#pray to the Mini-Muffin

[melanieph321]

idea for ruben!!!

y/n and ruben are in the same friend group and have never gotten along/hate each other. the group does secret santa for christmas and ruben ends up getting y/n the most thoughtful gift ever and admits he has feelings for her

YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!!!🤭🤭

Ruben Dias x Reader - Secret Santa

Enjoy!

You groaned arriving at your friend's Christmas party.

"Come on, bet it won't be that bad." Your cousin, Sasha, said. She was your plus one for the evening.

"I told you that jerk Ruben is gonna be here."

"So?"

"So...it's gonna be that bad."

The Christmas party was in full motion when you and Sahsa arrived at the restaurant where it was held. Your friend, the host, was a well known chef in the industry. He was known for throwing luxurious parties for the rich and famous. This party however, was a more intimate gathering between close friends. There was a homily feel to the twinkling lights of the festively decorated salon.

"Y/N, you're here!" Your friend exclaimed. Li was his name. "And you brought treats." Li yanked the box of Christmas cookies that you brought, grabbing a cookie, not sparing any for his guests. "Mhmmm, delicious."

"Thanks, I baked them this morning."

"I love your Christmas cookies." He said, spitting crumbs. "Come, come! You and your cousin must have a drink at the bar. It's all on the house."

"I like the sound of that." Your cousin gladly followed Li to the bar. The two of you had become unexpected friends the day he had wandered into your bakery two years ago. Li had praised your talent for baking and your eye for gastronomic detail. After that you got swept into a lifestyle of luxurious parties thrown by Li, who loved to tend to the rich and famous, despite some of them being complete jerks. One know jerk was Ruben Dias, a famous footballer who basically fat-shamed you for making a living baking muffins. It happen at one of Li's dinner parties not too long ago. You wanted to tell Ruben off, call him a jerk to his face. The problem however is that Ruben was a close friend of Li's. His reason for attending this evening's Christmas party.

Scanning the room you spotted him, Ruben, standing by the bar, laughing loudly with a group of well dressed people. Your stomach turned at the sight of him. You quickly excused yourself, telling your cousin and Li to go ahead without you. Instead you made your way to the buffet table, grabbing a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Li could cook for any occasion and Christmas was no exception. But just as you were loading up on mini quiches and cheese and crackers, you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Ruben, holding out a brightly wrapped present.

"Hey, Y/N! I got you something for Secret Santa," he said, grinning smugly. "You know Li, he thought it'd be funny if we all played the game."

Your heart sank. What could he possibly have gotten you? Something sarcastic and mocking, no doubt. A can of diet coke? Or perhaps a gluten free muffin? God knows there was no sugar in those, a.k.a. Ruben once again indicating that you, compared to him and his rich friends, had a very unhealthy lifestyle.

"Well, aren't you gonna open it?"

He saw your hesitation with his present.

"No. Why would I?"

Ruben's expression faltered as you handed him back the neatly wrapped gift.

"But I'm your Secret Santa? We've never played this game in Portugal where I'm from, but I'm pretty sure this is how it goes, no?"

He sounded unsure, insecure even. You fought not to feel for him, convincing yourself that this was all an act. That behind those pouting lips of his lay a jerk,  ready to pray on his next victim.

"Y/N, please. Accept my gift."

Ruben was the epitome of everything you disliked in a person - arrogant, self-centered, and always trying to one-up everyone else. Your current relationship was strained, to say the least, and you had made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him after what he said to you about your work. However, seeing Ruben so upset by the fact that you refused to accept his gift did something, even to you.

"Fine." You groaned, unhanding him the present, unwrapping it with the least amount of caution. "Whatta....?" You were surprised to find a beautiful silver necklace inside, adorned with delicate snowflakes and glittering crystals. "Wow, thank you Ruben." You exclaimed. "This gift. It's...it's..." You had no words for it. You were genuinely touched by the thoughtful gift. Ruben looked pleased with himself, which only infuriated you more. How could someone so obnoxious have such good taste in jewelry?

"Here, let me help you put it on." He unhanded you the empty jewelry box, ordering you to turn around for him. Which you did, exposing your naked back to him. Ruben's fingers tips braced your skin as he clasped the necklace around your neck. The brief touching of skin left goosebumps on your forearms.

"Um...thank you." You said, once you and Ruben stood facing each other again. You didn't really know what else to say. You felt too awkward to strike up a meaningful conversation, not that you and Ruben had anything in common.

"You look beautiful." He said.

"I do?"

He chuckled. "You seem suprised. We're you not meant to look beautiful this evening, was it all done by accident?"

You snorted. "No...I guess it wasn't."

Ruben's eyes wandered freely, as if getting a good look at you for the first time.

"I met your cousin." He smiled.

"Sasha?"

"Yes. By the bar. She said that you couldn't wait to see me tonight."

"She did what?"

"Yeah, I was suprised as well."

"That mother fuc..."

"But I must admit that it brought me courage to hand over your Christmas gift myself. For some reason I got the feeling that you didn't like me very much."

"Pause." You said, holding up a hand between yourself and Ruben. To your surprise Ruben did just that, pause at your command. "I thought you were the one who disliked me?"

Ruben's brows furrowed. "Me, dislike you? What made you believe such a thing?"

"Um...maybe because you called me fat for making a living baking muffins?"

"I never..." Ruben paused to think, perhaps rembering the day he told you what he thought to be a funny joke. "Y/N I never said anything like that." He said, denying ever fat-shaming you.

"No, what was it you said then Ruben, that mad everyone at Li's last party glare at me like I was some fucking muffin baking psycho?"

"If I recall correctly Y/N, I told a joke that if I ever owned a bakery I'd be twenty kilos heavier than I am now. It had nothing to do with you, your job, or your eating habits. But I'm sorry if all this time you thought...."

Great, now you were the jerk, you thought. You most definitely felt like one.

"Y/N, I would never..." Ruben stepped up to you, his hand reaching out to touch your arm where goosebumps still lingered. It was all too much.

"I'm sorry Ruben, I have to..."

In the heat of the moment you escaped, leaving Ruben clueless to what he had done to make you despise him so much. The truth was that he had done nothing, it had all been in your head, along with other terrors.

For the rest of the night, you found yourself stealing glances at Ruben, wondering if there was more to him than met the eye. Maybe he wasn't just a selfish jerk after all.

"Y/N? Could we maybe talk...somewhere private?"

It was during the late hours of the party, after several rounds of alcohol, that Ruben approached you. You hadn't had that much to drink, not compared to your cousin. Ruben however, didn't seem drunk at all. His eyes look at you attentively, as if any words coming out of your mouth, would mean somthing to him.

"What is it?" You sighed as the two of you withdrew from the party, ending up near an alcove of some sort.

"I just wanted to say that I feel terrible...."

You wished to be swallowed by a black hole.

"...I would never comment on a girls weight or size of any kind."

Great, he thought of you as a girl now, not a woman.

"The fact that you've believed me capable of this all this time does explain a few things however."

"It does? What things?"

"Well, you've been avoiding me ever since that day, haven't you?"

Heat rose ro your face. Of this you were guilty.

"I still think of that day, of how Li introduced me to this gorgeous looking woman who never gave me a second glance. I figured I must have come off as a fool, I got so nervous around you that I let my mouth run free. I tell terrible jokes when I'm nervous. As you know now."

"Wait, Ruben, are you trying to say that you like me or somthing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He laughed. "I practically begged Li to choose me as your secret Santa. At least then I'd have an excuse to talk to you again. I knew this time I wouldn't be so nervous since I...." Ruben coughed. "I kind of prepared for it....mentally that is."

You were confused. The situation as a whole was very confusing to you.

"But I understand if you don't feel the same way." He said, lowering his head to his feet. "I just thought you should know the truth."

"The truth." You said. Ruben must have heard the hitch in your voice for he looked up to see your glossy eyes. "The truth is Ruben, that I'm very insecure about my weight." You were always a chubby child. Baking is what brought your family together. You were know to eat somthing with glaze on it at least twice a day when you were growing up. It wasn't until recent years that you started making healthier choices, loosing weight. Even so, you felt like the world was judging you in a way. Ruben's comment about your job had definitely triggered some of that fear you still carried. However, perhaps it was time to let it go?

"The funny thing is...." You had to pause to wipe your tears. "I thought you were gorgeous too, that day that Li introduced us."

Ruben perked up "You did?"

"Of course I did." Who wouldn't? Ruben was undoubtedly handsome, actually, as handsome as they come. "But I immediately thought that someone like you could never go for someone like me."

"Someone like what?" He frowned.

"Someone with....curves."

His eyes widened in realization. You instatnly felt vulnerable, having put your deepest insecurities out in the open. Ruben however, took a step forward, reaching for your hand, tugging you to come his way. You stumble forward, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"Are we done now?" He smiled.

"Done with what?"

He shrugged. "Lying to ourselves, about how much we want this."

"Want what?"

Ruben bent down and kissed you. You did not see it coming, holding your breath as he captured your lips. They parted,  inviting his tongue to dance around with yours. Ruben's hands lowered to your waist, approaching the shape of your curves, appreciating your hips by squeezing your ass. He wore a smile on his face once your lips parted.

"What?" You asked, his grin still annoying to you.

He chuckled. "Your lips taste like choclate muffins."

You slapped him in the arm.

"Ouch. I'm kidding."

"What do you know about chocolate muffins. Bet you haven't tasted one in years."

"I'd taste your muffins."

Again, you slapped Ruben in the arm.

"Ouch. Hahaha, but I would."

"Oh, I bet you would."

"Don't get me wrong Y/N, I'd take you out first, somewhere nice."

You frowned. "What, like on a date?"

He shrugged.

Although you just kissed, you felt a need to draw a line somewhere. "Just know, I don't hand out free muffins on first dates."

Ruben chuckled, grabbing your hand as it was time for the two of you to return to the party. He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently. "It's a date then, free of muffins."

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

[dark-frosted-heart]

3rd Anniversary Event - A Beast’s Dream Fulfilled by Beauty - Keith

Main route

Keith will be used for when alter!Keith pretends to be Keith.

Emma's reading in Keith's secret study when she comes across a worn and torn journal. The front page has a flower on it and looks like it was torn on purpose. As she studies the journal, alter!Keith enters the room. Emma puts the journal back and goes to greet him. The two had agreed to go into town together. Alter!Keith gives Emma a pat on the head for her hard work as an apprentice apothecary and Emma savors it. He then pulls her in for a deep kiss as an apology for keeping her waiting. After the kiss, Emma comments on how the kiss was a bit too...intense.

Alter!Keith: But you enjoyed it, didn't you? Or did you hate it. Emma: I-I didn't hate it...

Yeah, alter!Keith can tell just by the look on her face. Emma gives him a light slap on the arm for his teasing and he says she's gonna have to try harder. And then he kisses the palm of her hand. His sweet revenge sets her heart racing.

~~~

That night, after going to a couple of stores, alter!Keith takes Emma to a sweets shop that has Rhodolite pastries and galettes. Since the latter's Keith's favorite, they buy both. But what about sweets for alter!Keith? Emma suggests some mini muffins that she'd like to share with him. He agrees and they get a box. When shopping with alter!Keith, Emma needs to keep her guard up for moments when he suddenly acts cute and childish.

As they continue browsing, some sweets with a cherry blossom branded on them catches Emma's eyes. They're dorayaki from Kogyoku. She's had it a few times before thanks to Akatsuki. Keith adds them to the basket. Emma brings up how in Kogyoku, cherry blossoms bloom year-round, similar to Rhodolite with its roses. Akatsuki always had this troubled look on his face whenever Emma brought up how she'd like to see them one day. Alter!Keith tells her that it's not the safest country as its epithet suggests and a place with Yaksha.

Just as Emma's about to ask about yaksha, Yuel (court apothecary and Emma's mentor) appears, having stumbled upon their "secret" date. Keith's embarrassed at having been caught and asks Yuel if she's here to buy some sweets too. Yep, an after work treat. Sugar's a necessity. Meanwhile, Emma's still impressed by how smoothly alter!Keith can suddenly act as Keith. Yuel then remembers that she has something for them and hands them a flyer for the upcoming flower festival. Keith gives Emma more information; it's an annual festival where the city decorated with a variety of flowers and plants. Yuel adds that there's also a dance that people participate in to pray for good harvest and health. Keith asks Emma if she wants to go to the festival and after being told that he's been meaning to ask her, Emma says yes.

After Yuel leaves, the two go about enjoying themselves in town again. Emma can't stop smiling at the thought of the flower festival. Alter!Keith pokes her cheek and tells her that there's still a month before the festival. Emma can't help it since it'll be her first time. Satisfied with her answer, Alter!Keith continues to poke her cheek.

Emma asks him about the flower on the flyer and he replies that it's called a hamin (ハミン), a flower that represents the festival. It's said to be a "phantom flower" that grants wishes. As Emma expected, it's the same flower she saw in the journal earlier. Alter!Keith continues with saying that there's no known records of anyone actually finding said flower so it's likely something someone just came up with. The way he says it, it sounds like he doesn't believe it exists at all. But there' also a feeling of sadness from him. Alter!Keith notices that Emma's especially interested in the flower though. Emma admits that she saw a picture in one of his journals. Alter!Keith's aware of what she's talking about; it's something that's unforgettable. Wait, what's with the smile on his face.

Keith had desperately wanted the phantom flower. As Alter!Keith's about to elaborate, Keith cuts in to shut him up. He then apologizes for yelling. Sounds like the flower's not something he wants to talk about though, so Emma decides not to press further and changes the subject. Keith breathes out a sigh of relief, but his eyes continue to shift with worry on the way back to the castle.

~~~

The two are relaxing in Keith's room after a bath when Keith suddenly apologizes. He's willing to answer her question about the flower now, though he warns her that his reason for being interested in the flower's not that impressive. Really, he just wanted to see if it was real, study it, and...know if his wish would actually come true. He had first read about it as a child and it left a strong impression. Before he knew it, finding the flower became a dream. It's the kind of dream you can expect from someone like Keith, but Emma wonders if he's embarrassed because it sounds childish. It's heartwarming though and she tells him that it's a wonderful dream.

Keith once went out looking for the flower as a child and ended up worrying a lot of people. He realizes now that the flower doesn't exist, but still hopes to see it every year during the flower festival. Clearing his throat, he changes the topic and begins to dig in to the sweets they had bought today. The fragrance of the tea and sweets fills Emma's mind with thoughts on the flower and how she can make Keith happy. She wants to find it, but there's still a lot more she needs to learn about plants. She thinks back to what Alter!Keith had said about dancing at the festival. Emma tells Keith that she'd like to dance at the festival

~~~

A few days later...

Liam stumbles upon an odd sight. Yuel's apparently helping Emma stretch but the latter's ticklish. She asks the butler if he wants to join in and Liam tells her not to ask him so casually as if inviting him for a drink. He refuses.

Yuel was teaching Emma how to dance for the flower festival. Liam says she's just trying to curry favor with Keith so that she can get some new equipment. Well it doesn't matter now, Yuel replies. She's surprised that Emma wants to participate in the dance though. Emma wants to do her best and Yuel asks what her aim is. Emma tells her mentor that she wants to find the phantom flower so that she can fulfill Keith's childhood dream. Apparently Liam was one of those that suffered when Keith went missing for days to look for the flower without telling anyone. The whole castle was in an uproar and a search party was sent out.

Emma thinks back on the torn page and how wistful Keith sounded when talking about his dream. Emma gets an idea of why he went off alone, but then dismisses it.

~~~

Emma continues to practice dancing between work when one day, Keith comes by as she finishes up. She's about to run over to him but stops, and at Keith's dejected expression, hastily explains that she's all sweaty. Suddenly, Keith pulls her close, his face against her neck. She doesn't smell bad at all, he says. So he'd rather she doesn't stray to far from him. He then pulls out a small jar of candy that he's giving her as a reward for her hard work. Emma's touched by his kindness and now really wants to do her best during the dance.

Emma tells Keith that she hopes he will see her dance perfectly and keep his eyes on her that day. Keith promises not to miss a single second of it. Though now he wonders if the candy's enough. Emma reminds him that he made a delicious pot of tea the night before. It's not enough, he says. Keith'll have something even better for her tomorrow. Emma asks if she can request one more thing. She then gives him a tight hug as a way to ask him to give her strength to do better. Keith hugs her back in kind.

~~~

The day of the flower festival arrives...

Ending

#ikepri #ikemen prince #ikepri jp #ikepri summary #keith howell #ikepri keith

[eunoiaastralwings]

Ik I already requested for Maglor but how about hcs from the anon convo we had where i was definitely not the anon for HCs about the Reader somehow miss pronouncing his name as Caramel or teasing to him that he's just sweet like Caramel under his hard exterior, how about do both.

featuring caranthir x reader

fandom tolkien — the silmarillion

a/n yes — from the one where you were definitely not the anon! 🤭— I hope you like this!— this turned into a a hc and mini story because i cojdlnt control myself lmao!

You stared at him wide eyed — what the fuck did you just call him? — You knew from the beginning — when your best friends Ambarussa invited you to the ball their family was hosting — you were going to mess up.

But you never realized — you would mess up so badly, you would completely mispronounce one of their older brother's name!

Shit— fuck! — you wanted the ground to eat you up as the prince you called Caramel, instead of Caranthir was glaring at you— drilling holes into your skin.

You knew the Feanorians were a handsome bunch — your best friends Ambarussa were no expectation to that— but this Nolder prince took you breath away more than the rest of them — even more than the oldest, who was literally called handsome — and more than the 3rd prince, whose hair was as silver as the moon.

But Caranthir Caramel . . . — he was the type of handsome that made your inside melt in awe as you stared at his deep reddened skin — lots of colors your fingers were inching to trace. It didn't help — this was the first time you were meeting him!

What a wonderful first impression.

"My prince! —am so sorry! . . . — I didn't mean to— I meant it as a compliment! — it was an accident. . .— you have beautiful— I just meant you are as beautiful as caramel— your skin looks like-"

"Forget it!"

He harshly cut of you — the prince didn't say another word as he abruptly turned away from you. You facepalmed — having made the worst impression you possibly could.

The next few days — it was annoying you. Something about the 4th prince thinking badly about you — it didn't sit right with you.

You never told your best friends — too afraid they would use it to tease him

Then — the next few days you had decided to learn how to bake the best cookies, muffins — and what not in town.

You remembered — Ambarussa saying Caranthir adored baking — you slot in little apology notes and letters in there too — sometimes your own little versions of fortune cookies — you just hoped he didn't eat the papers.

But when all your treats were delivered back — it greatly upseted you — though you didn't give up! No— in fact you made twice more — before only one basket of treats were delivered to him, this time treat baskets of twos and threes were even delivered to him.

Until one day — you made a mistake! The caramel slices you had intended for a friend with the note: you're as sweet as caramel — was accidentally placed in one of Caranthir's baskets.

Realizing the dumb fuckery you did— you raced to the gates of the 4th Prince's quarters.

You dashed in — despite the guards trying to hold you back — you think at one point Ambarussa did come to help you out — thinking it was prank you trying to pull on them — or Caranthir.

When you crashed into his study — he already had one of the caramel slices in one hand and the other — had your little note — you had even decorated it with little stars and doodles.

You mentally died inside as he slowly looked up at you — again you really prayed the ground would just eat you up.

The red blush on his face — it made you bite your lip nervously.

Until suddenly he thanked you — from the strain in his voice you knew it was something he rarely did. Surprisingly — you bowed and turned to leave until he asked — "Did you make these?"

You explained it — how you intended it all to be an apology gift.

Caranthir didn't say anything as you did — and when awkwardly excused yourself to take your leave.

The next few days you felt so empty — not even going out when Ambarussa had invited you out.

You stayed inside with nothing to do — walking around aimlessly.

When a there was a knock on your door — you groaned and swung it open ready to shout at your best friends.

Only— it wasn't your best friends — but Caranthir.

He gave an awkward greeting — then asking you to meet him by the lake in the evening.

You didn't deny — but it did take a long time for you to answer — too mesmerized by his overflowing beauty.

When evening rolled around — you wore the best clothes you had and arrived on time.

The grass looked fresh cut — and there was a warm breeze — you settled on the grass as you waited.

Not even seconds later — the prince arrived — awkwardly holding a mini basket in his hand.

"I. . .— I made a few things . . .— for you — I thought you might like them . . ."

He cleared his throat — growing bright red and settled the basket beside.

Caranthir quickly laid out a blanket on the grass for you — helping you sit on it too — then emptied the contents in the baskets.

You blushed seeing the freshly baked treats — especially the caramel slices.

"Thank you— my prince. . ."

You blushed — when he offered you a plate.

"Call me, Caramel—NO! CARANTHIR!"

You almost choked — own your own breath— when he said that.

With little coughs — you nodded at him, trying to keep your composure.

Over the next few weeks — this was the routine, bringing each other treats and even learning from him.

It continued and grew comfortable — until one day he asked you to court him.

It shocked you to the core — the 4th prince wanted to court you? — Sure, you were friends with the 6th and 7th princes — but that didn't come close to this.

You agreed — of course — accepting his hand in courtship — because Eru knows of how much you had started to like him — enough the sound of his voice made your heart race.

When Ambarussa had found out they were shocked — happy but shocked! Now— usually it would be, siblings warning the outsider to be careful with their brother's or sister's heart— but in your case Ambarussa went out of their way to warn Caranthir to be careful with your heart.

It was hilarious — watching them trying to make a stand against their older brother.

Over the course of your courtship— you realized all rumors about Caranthir was untrue �� yes he would get angry and annoyed — but it was rather because of people purposely getting on his nerves and riling him up!

It bothered you so much — sometimes you wanted to punch the person who made Caranthir looked bad.

Ambarussa lowkey pointed out — Caranthir's anger was "rubbing off you" — you made no comment, only rolled your eyes.

Caramel slices — those became a little inside joke between Caranthir and you.

Sometimes you would peck his blushing cheeks — saying he was really as sweet as caramel — despite the tough, hard exterior he showed.

Because if he was, as they say— hot tempered, mad, quickiest to anger, vicious — why would he make time for you, make you the best treats and always made sure your comfort and safety came first.

You strongly believed — Caranthir Caramel was judged too quickly!

You always showed him he was worth loving — even on his bad days.

Bad days — you bring him caramel slices and tease him —then showering him with kisses.

Until one day — you grew particularly brave and said.

"You know Cara— I always said you're sweet as caramel— I wonder if. . . You taste as sweet as caramel too?"

You winked.

To your surprise — he suddenly pulled you to him and despite the redding blush on his race — he whispered into your ears in a deep— almost dangerously low voice.

"Would you like to find out, my dearest melda."

Tara's taglist: @mslizziesblog @aeonianarchives @spidergirla5

#caranthir #caranthir silmarillion #the silmarillion #carathir #caranthir x reader #caranthir imagine #the silmarillion x reader #the silm x reader #morifinwe #tarawrites #silmarillion #tolkien elves #tolkien #queued post

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Mini-muffin: Invitation - a Malevolent Fic

There is one person in the universe who might be able to solve Arthur's weird mark-resistance problem. Now, if only Hastur can find the invite…

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

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

Three Hundred Years Ago:

To the Unspeakable, Prince of the Great Old Ones, the illustrious King in Yellow, Hastur,

I, the Keeper, wish to formally announce the grand opening of my beloved Scriptorium, the foremost collection of texts both magical and mundane in the entirety of the known worlds, and growing by the day. It is with great pleasure I announce I am officially taking visitors, and I welcome you to my door with open arms and the promise of an evening of light refreshment and amusing diversions.

With warm regards,

The Keeper

------

Last Week (and six treasure rooms plundered, two hundred closets torn through, six hundred and fifty-eight trunks emptied, until Hastur found the invitation again):

To the great Keeper of Knowledge, the Soul of the Scriptorium, she who walks unseen in the thoughts of men and treasures all that is forgotten: Greetings.

I have heard such wonderful things about your magnificent library! During my latest travels through the Dreamlands, you have been praised, far and wide, recommended above all other sources of knowledge. I, too, praise you; you are known as fair, and truthful. A worthy god to seek for answers!

Thus it is, now that I find myself in a place of need for answers, that I at last (though late!) reach out to you. Great one, forgive my tardiness; as you no doubt know, my plate has overfilled with strangeness and miracles and secrets. You are known for your goodness and impartiality; so, in my hour of need, I dare to turn to you.

I say dare, for I know I have wronged you with silence in answer to your gracious invitation. I beg your forgiveness; as I come to trade, I swear to bring that which will, hopefully, make up for my egregious lack of decorum.

If you are willing to see me and hear my plea, I will come to you at your earliest convenience. I thank you for your time, great one, distinguished one, and pray for your mercy as well as your affirmative reply.

With humility and hope,

Hastur, the King in Yellow, Lord of Carcosa, Xastur, H'aaztre, Kaiwan, Poet of the Dreamlands proper.

------

The Next Day (left without ceremony at Hastur’s place setting at the breakfast table):

Warmest Greetings, Hastur, the King in Yellow,

Your missive has found me well, and I am pleased at your response; allow me to assure you that you find yourself still within my good favor. I am aware of the ever-mounting burdens being placed upon your shoulders, and I am humbled to offer an ear and, ideally, the knowledge you seek.

I have an appointment four days from now, when the blue star lies at its third zenith and the red trails behind it at sixty degrees. It is yours.

I look forward to our meeting, and the opportunity to assist you however I am able.

With delight,

The Keeper

-------

Written While Pacing, Muttering, and Rewritten a Dozen Times: 

Greatest Keeper of Knowledge in the Prime Universe,

We thank you, I and my people both. We will accept your gracious offer, and shall be at your door at the appointed hour,  prepared to do anything but waste your priceless time.

With utter gratitude and worship,

Hastur, the King in Yellow, Lord of Carcosa, Xastur, H'aaztre, Kaiwan, Poet of the Dreamlands proper.

------

And Hastur collapsed onto his enormous bed, face down, and stole five minutes from his precious schedule to desperately hope this went well.

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

NOTES:

Hastur’s font is called “Erotica.” I have no regrets.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #surrogate series #hastur malevolent #kiy malevolent #the keeper malevolent

[lilmuffin666]

My Intro:

Hai I am Lil Muffin. I am a theistic Satanist High Priestess. Though this wasnt always the case. . .

Like Many children I was raised in the religion my parent choose I did not have a choice. As a result I was raised christian then muslim then hebrew etc. Yes I know its a lot of different things but each of these paths I was introduced to included one common thing and that was "God". At the age of 8 or 9 I made Hajj at Mecca and let me tell you that is not easy to do especially as a kid. Moving forward through the years I would continue to blindly serve and pray to god. That is until one big traggic event happened in my life that was so horrible it realy made stop and think.

Over a year ago on a warm christmas night I was sad and lonely😥. My mental health was struggling from dealing with the woman who gave birth to me, losing my jobs and the increased stress of college. I got on a my bag, grabbed my keys, locked the door then made my way up the street to the mini park we had. I sat their on the bench keeping aware of my surroundings before being to talk aloud. I spoke aloud to Lucifer stating how my life has been going bad, about all the bad things ive been told about him, why I hated praying to god, what lead me here and finally that I needed help. I did not ask Lucifer for money or fame and I didnt sign anything. All I did was cry out to him for help and I told him "I never once asked you about all the bad things they say about you. I need help" After that I stoof up and walked back home in the surprisingly good weather.

Very shortly after my heart to heart with Lucifer things started to get better I was doing better with college, I found ways to deal with my mother, I got help with my mental health etc. Now in present time I have graduated with a 3.9GPA, I am far away from my mother who was a misery in my life, I'm with the man I love and most of all I serve the god Lucifer who was their for me. I am finally free and happy.

Lucifer is the one who answered me and all my wants/needs are important to him. He shows me and tells me that I dont need to suffer. He doesnt require me to change anything about myself. His only rules are to live your life but not at the harm or expense of others, do not commit crimes, do not harm animals for no reason etc. He holds me accountable for all my actions because he believes in free will.

All I can say is Ave Lucifer thank you for hearing me, believing in me and lifting me up🥹

(No this is not I serve Lucifer because god did me wrong story. I just got tired of praying to wall or to a god who didnt give a shit)

Ave Lucifer always & forever

#life story #theistic satanism #struggle #life #lucifer #journey #who i am #so sad

[vulgarpr1nce55]

praying over these mini muffins

[muffinlance]

Reading through the Salvage Chapter 13 outline. Came across this scene summary:

BATO NO

Sometimes, that's really all the detail you need.

#Bato YES #was not needed #because it is clearly implied #past!me done a good job on this outline #gonna be REAL fun writing this <3 #hoping to officially start tomorrow #pray to the Mini-Muffin #ALSO #found out an hour ago that AzuLance LIKES the sound of a clattering sewing machine #if I'd had more to do he might have fallen asleep listening #GAME CHANGER #*plots sewing projects just because she can* #maybe an isopuppy plushie...? #anyway back to reading this outline

[muffindaddystyles]

LOST IN ITALY.

Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

Flatulent gust of breezy wind kept wiggling through Harry’s coffee lovelocks, sunshine bounces against his soft skin and his pink heart-shaped mouth stays puckered as he takes in the beauty of his surroundings with his cheek smashed over his wrist – which’s resting atop the rooftop of yacht and his head perks up puppy like when tufty giggles maroons in his ears.

He gazes his cute assistant from under his ray bans and skims back a timid smile when her face beams with glee, her cotton puffy sleeved sundress blows away from the breeze giving glimpses of her plump thighs and Harry sucks in a breath snapping his eyes away.

“Harry look s’beautiful!” She squeals taking another picture of landscape with her grandpa's vintage Yoshika camera and Harry just rumbles his lips, shrugs and slumps back, a lazy mumble of “mehhh” elicits past his lips.

She’s just so endearing, and cute and fucking adorable it’s hard for Harry to keep from not babying her.

When he first went to sets of My Policemen he considered her rather unprofessional, as everyone kept on finding her but it seemed like she vanished into thin air, turned out when Harry took a break in his cubby she was lighting up saffron and black scented candles, “Oh! Thought you’d like comin' back to nice smelling room —-- holy fudge .... by the way, me Y/N your new assistant for the meantime.” His all grumpiness defused into bunch of reverence for her.

She'd always beat him to bringing in brekkie and smoothies for him and her fellows, sometimes giving him the velvet muffins before he goes back home --- Harry became such a drooly lovey puppy for her that he decided to keep it stern from then.

He’s trying. He’s prolly gonna fail.

Y/N isn’t very immune to water trips and she was well aware that a sickness is coming – but so soon? She didn’t know that!

So, when she chokes onto nothing and then gags driving Harry into fritz. Harry tries to keep his balls in place and not panic because that’d just spill his secret and expose him.

He quickly facades himself under stoniness, “Christ! Y/N if you die on me —-,” Though, grabs her elbow lightly and walks her to the edge of the deck.

Y/n smacks his hand away. Glares him and grunts pushing her hair away aggressively, “Don’t tell me what to do I’ll die wherever the hell I want!” His pupils resembling to that of clashing waves of sea blows away comically as she huffs and pushes past him.

“Better die and ghost you for life.” She gags into her elbow again and he rushes to grab her hand, when she pulls away with a tut he rolls his eyes brings his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at her from under the brown sunnies, “Jeez just holdin' a hand, not gonna slip a ring, ‘s that what yer afraid of.”

“Just admit you’re desperate to hold my hand.” She smirks up at him and he cackles, then dims into nervous chuckles because oh fuck he’s getting caught red handed.

“No.” He mutters.

How much she resists not to pout and turn all fussy over his denial she ends up doing so and it’s his turn to smirk cheekily at her.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” He wiggles his finger at her and she grumbles folding her arms infront of her bosom and cranes her head to side, “I’m not mad.”

“Yer pretty face’s all screwed up, like you’re mad.” He nibbles at her and she glowers him --- sighing at last, the wisp of her hair falling in her eyes, her lips plush and glossy from sick.

“I’m perturbed, not mad.”

Then there’s an overrated pause of silence and heartbeats before Harry pokes her knee.

“You still look mad.” His face splits into a wide cheeky grin – showing his bunny teeth and she stands up hastily wobbling a little.

“’M’not mad! But I’ll be soon Harry Styles!!!!” She goes for smacking him at chest but he jerks back and sneaks his way out squealing annoyingly, “Mommy come save me from this feisty sea-creature.”

“You mean a mermaid?” She giggles.

“No. Frogfish.” He deadpans.

“I’m not talking to you ever again!” She cries out and turns away from him but he barks out a laugh --- riling her up is the most entertaining thing and seeing her make cute fussy faces another.

“’Kay, sorry! Wouldn’t do it again.” He toddles behind her and glides his forearm against her clavicles bringing her to his front, “Says this everytime!” She squirms pushing him away but he’s ten times stronger than her and even if she’s ... she’d want to spend some more time like this.

“Wouldn’t call ye' frogfish —-.. from now on.” She nods. Humming in agreement and he turns her, holding her from shoulders and looks down at her with glinting eyes and wide toothy mouth.

“How ‘bout blobfish? They look more funny.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Harry Styles!”

..

They were given a loft infront of the shore 10 minutes drive away from the shooting place and after fighting over who'll occupy the bed, bickering and pillow fighting over it and almost making it creaky loose bench Y/N went back to living room telling him that he snores so much, “Sorry but ‘m too sensitive to piggy snorey noises – better sleep outside.” He was fuming and gritty mess, flailing his limbs like a baby because he was “the hair on his directors head” away from sharing the bed with her.

“Whateva! your loss. Don’t come t'me beggin’ to pop your backbones.” He told her in high pitched mimickness and flumped under cool sheets.

His one hour nap turned into two then three. In the meantime, Y/N made a sandwich from the fresh veggies piled in the fridge, sipped onto her matcha drink sitting beside the window and enjoyed he view, even went through her socials.

Realized that she’s missing him around her terribly even if it’s just jokes and giggles and shit, whatever, so she took her camera and went outside to take pictures of shore and the purple sky battling with hue of clouds.

She got so charmed with Italy's beauty that she kept on walking and taking pictures, only to realize when the bustle of crowd dropped into tranquil quietness and she found herself into some unknown street.

She’s fucked.

She’s lost.

She has got nothing,

Not even her phone.

She contemplates to knock on the house doors and ask for locations but she’s petrified of the idea and tries to find some shop, so she could call someone and ask them to pick her up.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumbest decision, she has ever taken in her life.

When she sees no passer by, none tourists no-one in sight and the daylight defusing and darkness laughing and taunting her tears springs in her eyes --- bubbling at the corners and weeping down furiously.

Her heartbeats drops dead when she sees a group of men approaching towards her. She runs away hiding into the dark tunnel and clamps her mouth shut from crying out loud when they walk away -- they weren’t about to do anything to her – it was just her feared instincts.

“Harry ......” She whisper-cries into her wrist, her legs weak and trembly making her tumble down into dusty stoned pavement, her back getting scratched from the bricked wall of tunnel.

..

Harry woke up to pin-drop silence. Void of the sun that was once glimmering through the window, “Y/N.” He grogs out, knuckling the sleepiness away and trudged out finding the room empty.

It startles him. Waking him up properly now. A sweat flushes down his spine when he couldn’t even find her in the washroom and at the door-steps.

He dials her number and finds it at the coffee table, gruff cruses breathes out from his mouth at that.

FuckFuckFuckFuck.

His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it mercilessly in their grip when he goes outside, but couldn’t spot her and he finds it difficult to breathe, chest heaving as he snaps his head in every direction to look for the face he’s oh so in love with.

Where are you, Y/N?

Maybe, she’s angry with me? Did I hurt her in any way? Oh, fuck. I’m such a bitch.

Now, she’s angry with me and hiding in some corner cursing me out.

I have to bring her back.

So, he calls anyone in connection with Y/N in hopes that she’s with anyone of them and when there were, “no mate --- maybe check in the washroom...” and “last time she texted, said she’s going out to take pictures.”

Harry’s face pales at that. Sick to his stomach. His fists tighten by his sides to keep his calm the world around him spins for a moment and he stables himself with the nearby railing.

Bad thoughts spirals in his mind, how much he avoids them it frightens him like his worst enemy.

What if she’s hurt? It hurts him in heart even to think that.

Got into an accident and they took her?

Fuck.

What if some mafia has kidnapped her.

Obviously, Italy is famous for mafias ..... No!No!No! Harry shut up, shut up, shut uppppp!!

He screams internally to pause everything and think rationally.

He searches for her everywhere. In every street. His feet hurting until now and he chokes onto a sob, not even wanting to think of getting police involved and still not able to have her back.

He shouts for her name. Halting past anyone looking like her, that mini dress she flaunted infront of him with a gorgeous smile –-- asked him how it looked on her and he wasn’t very interested to give a response.

If he could take all of it back and praised her like his life depended on it, only if he’d told her how much he loves her, her making sure he’s comfortable in his cubby, her bringing cold milk drinks for him, dividing her oreos with him.

His hands shakes by his side, his lip twitching constantly and his legs trembles pathetically with each step he takes.

He stops. Narrows his eyes to squint through the darkness and he feels like someone blew oxygen back in his lungs, his knees weakening at the sight of some girl sitting on the bench, her shoulders slump and her head downwards as she clutches the edge of bench, rocking on it with quite sniffles.

He prays that it’s her.

Upon, hearing the footsteps Y/N looks up and those sweet eyes are enough for him to recognize her in between many people.

“Harry?” Her voice feeble and scared.

“Oh baby .....” He mumbles. Rushing towards her, stumbling back a bit when she flies in his arms and latches to him like the missing piece of her body.

His palms curves into her ribs, her face smashed into the crook of her neck – her tears wetting his skin instantly and his cheek squished atop her sweaty hair, he hugs her for dear life making her legs dangle in the air, she sobs nuzzling deeper into his throat and he caresses her shoulders to soothe her cries down. Kisses the side of her temple with tender affection and sighs in relief.

“Shhh. Shh baby, ‘s okay. I’ve found y’now ..... ‘m here sweetheart ‘s alright.” He doesn’t stop splodging soft pecks to her forehead – scared that if he’ll she’ll get lost from his arms again.

Her hiccups painful not letting her take a breather and Harry puts her down on her feet gently, taking her face in his clammy hands and hooks his thumb into her hair gazing into her glassy eyes intensely, “Hey look at me lovie’ just .. focus on me alright?” She nods at his plea grabbing his wrists and follows his breathing pattern.

He glances back at the bench and goes to grab her camera but she cries out fisting the hem of his corduroy shirt in her tiny hands, “No!” could barely choke out from her dry throat and he turns his attention back down onto her, strokes the rosy apple of her cheeks and pets her head.

“Not leavin’ yer side baby .. was bout to get your camera fo’ you. Could come with me if you don’t like stayin' away.” He assures her softly and trots towards the bench with his arms still around her as she keeps on hiding her face into his bicep.

They walk down the street like that, she has calmed down letting a sniffle slip here and there --- this kind of scenario has never happened to her before – she has never been outside of her home city before too.

He feels her tummy screech for food so asks her, chin butted atop her head, “You’re hungry, petal. Let’s get pizza.” She doesn’t feel like eating though. When she shakes her head – squeezing him more. He takes her from shoulders looking down at her with gentleness and brushes a strand of hair behind.

“Just a tad, darlin'. I know a delicious take away round the corner ... could eat it sittin' by shore.” He offers her with a smile and punches the air happily, whistling when she agrees.

When she giggles softly, defrosting back from numbness Harry spins them a little overly gleeful.

“Got me sweet girl back.” He exclaims ducking down to kiss her cheek and now when she’s less wobblish, her lungs fills with bunches of butterflies.

Blush splatters on her features. As Harry aligns his tanned arm with her delicate one and locks their fingers together lulling it backs and forth between them lovingly.

He keeps her tucked under his chin and snuggled in his arms all the time, even while waiting in the line for the take away.

“Ow!” Squeaks, “Ow. Ow.” Jumps on his tippy toes upon balancing the hot pizza on his palm.

Grins like a mad man when succeeds in making her laugh, takes her hand and helps her climb down slippery stones.

Goosebumps arises on her skin from shyness when he coils his strong arm around her to pick her up, with pizza in his other hand and giggles breathily in her ear upon hearing her squeals.

She sits in between his knees. Leans against his chest and inhales his woodsy vanilla scent, nibbles onto the crust while hearing his heartbeat.

“You scared the living hell out of me, lovie’ ... thought —-... thought I’d never be able to have you back again ... proper vanished.” He croaks out. Runs his nose up and down the sweet curve of her neck.

“Made me realise ... that I don’t want to be away from you, ever.” Y/n's breath hitches at that and she turns in his embrace. Looks at him with surprised doe eyes and coos when his eyes gloss over with wetness, that he’s forcing to keep at waterline.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“You do?” She gasps.

He bobs his head giddily, “Can you picture it? You and I together?” He murmurs mellow street light dancing between them.

“’Us'? I like the sound of that....” She smiles searching for his hand and he grasps it eagerly like he was yearning for it.

“Kay then, when could I take you on a date?” He grins. Dimples mauving deep and pretty.

“This isn’t a date?”

“We’re in Italy. The sky's so romantic and I’ve got you, seems like a date to me....” She peppers kisses to each rosy gap of his knuckles and his inside bursts like they never did before.

“Kay then. It’s memorable too, you got lost on our first day –--”

“Harryyyy....” She whines nudging him in belly with her elbow. “’Kay we could change that.” He laughs. Showering her in kisses and her laughs whirls loudly into quite air, trying to squirm away from his tickles.

#when harrys looking this pretty could i resist from not writing about lovey dovey italrry? #nope my fellas #harrys styles imagines #cute harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry #harry and y/n #harry x reader #italy harry #italy harry x reader #italy harry x y/n #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles grammy nominations #harry styles fanfictions #naughty harry

[m3hgumi]

— baking with their s/o

a/n: i apologize for being rly inactive on here my exams start today and I’ve been trying to study for them these past few days

pairings: itadori yuuji x f!reader, fushiguro megumi x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 390

itadori yuuji

he's probably had to bake with his grandfather before so he definitely has experience

he's actually quite careful with following the instructions and making sure everything is done right

just don't do this at night or he will summon nobara as a reincarnation of the devil

you mostly read off the instructions while he puts the ingredients in the bowl

he really enjoys baking cookies and mini cupcakes !!

you can see the light tint of pink appearing on his cheeks when you lick the batter or frosting off his face

he tries to impress you with his "expert" baking skills but his clumsiness was his downfall

fushiguro megumi

he's not as experienced as itadori, but he does know the basics from watching and helping tsumiki

complains about the whole process being useless and a waste of food but deep down he's very grateful you asked to do this, hoping to spend some quality time

he's more of a pastry/brownie person

he likes making muffins too !!

his face becomes a tomato when you wipe the excess frosting off his face

does everything exactly how it is written in the instructions

he’s quite the blushing mess when you have to physically demonstrate

gojo satoru

unlike the other two, he is the COMPLETE opposite

mans said "fuck the packaging"

heck yall aren't even using premade dessert mixtures

gojo + kitchen = disaster

make sure to keep the fire extinguisher at all times

his students are secretly praying the dorms don't blow up because of this

your whole purpose in this is to keep him in check

he added double the amount of sugar than what the recipe had prescribed and even added colored sugar on top of the dessert at the end

purposely gets frosting on his face so you could lick it off (will point it out if you don't notice)

eats raw cookie dough (even if the flour isn't heat treated) and cake batter

is the "official" taste tester (even though all he did was put a shit ton of sugar in the mixture)

takes so many pictures of the finished product and brags about it to nanami whenever he sees him after

© m3hgumi 2021. all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or repost my works anywhere

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #jjk headcanons #gojo #megumi #itadori #fushiguro #jjkmag #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter One

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate. 

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 1 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Trope: ‘Enemies to Lovers’; mainly angst, mutual pining, fluff, and eventual smut

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction. 

Word Count: 4000+

A/N: Ooo, let’s hope this does numbers! I love myself some ‘enemies to lovers’ tropes. It’s been a while since I’ve written Steve fanfics. :)

~

Wakanda, 2018, 4:04 pm.

     The flash of bright white light temporarily blinded you, sending you back to the ground and cupping your face in self-defense. But as quickly as the initial crack, it was over. Eerily silent and loud at the same time. The birds whistled their same tune, some higher-pitched than others. The wind seemed to blow louder, rustling the leaves from the trees and landing all around you and your teammates. 

“Thor?”

You lifted your head at the sound of Steve’s voice and checked if the coast was clear. All that remained of the evil was a new blood-stained hammer - a hammer that Thor was watching intensely, as if the answer lay hidden there. It was the only remnant left and your mind was already wondering how to use it to bring that evil back to finish a fair fight. 

“Where’d he go?”

The birds stopped singing. 

“Steve?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of Bucky’s confused voice, watching as one of your best friends dropped his gun and looked up at Steve as his hands began to disappear. In a matter of seconds, Bucky - or what became of him - fell to the dirt below. No one spoke, and you watched as Steve tried to control his breathing as he took a knee to place his shaking hand over his best friend’s ashes. A life and mind brought out of the darkness to finally amend those knots he had twisted, now ceasing to exist. In the distance you could hear Okoye shout in turmoil and Rocket begin begging. 

“What’s happening?” you finally choked out, turning just in time to see Wanda lift her head to the sky, defeated and out of will, and succumb to the same fate. “No!”

You ran and fell beside Vision’s now gray and decaying body, reaching over and palming through Wanda’s ashes. You rubbed them between your fingers, inspecting them, and brought your hand to your chest. The pit of your stomach churned as you sat there, immobile and numb. 

“Sam!”

So many names were being called but soon everyone who remained fell silent. The trees were still guiding the wind, leaves falling into the ashes of your friends, a sign of a new and unwanted chapter. You felt Steve drop beside you, turning Vision around to see the damage to his body. You winced when you saw the gaping hole in his forehead. 

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Natasha ran to where you were seated, hand over her stomach as if she was ready to vomit. And once she took one look at Vision, that’s exactly what she did. 

You removed your hands from your chest to look at them, the ashes still there and practically mocking you into finally believing this as reality. “Did we just lose?”

Steve was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. He simply looked up at the trees, watching the way the sunlight still burst through with no disruption. “Oh god.”

You caught Steve as he tipped his upper body toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding onto something real. He had to believe you were real. Anyone. And you were the closest person to him. You shut your eyes and held him, running your hands through his hair, wincing when you realized Wanda’s ashes were now on him.

You held him tight, praying to any God you chose to believe in at that moment, that Steve wouldn’t disappear too. 

Unknown Location, 2025, 1:07 pm.

     The air was incredibly musty, as if each person who struggled for breath in this room at one point or another left a piece of their soul floating in search of last minute penance for their sins. And the man in front of you was no different, choking on the purple blood that dripped down his neck and onto his now unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing becoming less labored with each blink of the eye. His hands were tied behind his back and to the chair he sat on, a flickering light in the corner of the dark, concrete room somehow mocking this man’s last remaining seconds of life. 

“I’m not an evil person,” you started, kicking one of the legs of the chair to startle the poor man. But your guilt was minimal - it’s not like you wanted to do this - but knowing this man did exactly what everyone said he did, hands red and dripping with young blood, you selfishly took pleasure knowing this man would look at you when he died. “It’s just my job as third in command.”

You gave the man a small smile as you bent down to his level, head hanging in shame, slow breaths now pausing in between each intake. You looked to the other party in the room, handing them the gun in your holster, and walked out the room as the sound of two gunshots rang out. 

Left twist. Sting. Breathe. 

You washed away any smell from that godforsaken room, giving extra attention to the roots of your hair and under your fingertips. 

Scrub. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

The crack of your neck frightened even you, and you stood under the burning shower for a few more minutes before deciding the sting was enough. You changed into the most comfortable sweats you owned, surprisingly calm for such a gruesome morning you had, and took your time with your skin care routine. 

Circle. Wash. Dry.

Soft music played in the overhead speakers, the classical sounds vibrating from one wall to another and surrounding you with something tranquil - something still. There was nothing to expect from such a sound, only the next repeated chorus, no words or drops - just tranquility. You could barely hear yourself breathe but you were at peace - or mostly - and ready to sooth your growing headache behind the eyeballs with more than just music. You slipped on a pair of comfy, forest green socks and bent them at the ankle to achieve an even fluffier look. You applied your favorite perfume, lotioned up your hands, and donned your tacky friendship bracelet. 

One for you. One for Bucky. One for Peter. And one for Wanda. 

You hummed the whole way to the common room, waving at the morning staff as they fixed lightbulbs, covered holes in the walls, and swept the floors. One muffin and a cup of coffee later, you were resting with your head in Wanda’s lap as she filled your thoughts with your chosen sceneries.

      “I can make you see anything you have already seen, so yes.”

“A miniature golf course, Peter’s high school graduation, a field of all kinds of flowers, and Natasha.”

Wanda stilled her floating hand, smile faltering for a moment before she nodded. “Okay… okay, I can do that.”

     They were images well-drawn out, slow and steady to make the atmosphere similar to when you were actually there. They seemed to float across your vision, comfortable in their positions and radiating the same warmth you had felt the first time around. A moving picture. Wanda really had excellent control of this. 

     “I won!” Sam leapt into the air, pointing at a disgruntled Bucky, who stepped off to the side to not throw Sam over his own head. “I won!”

“How is it possible for you to get a hole-in-one each fucking turn?” Bucky groaned, moping in Wanda’s shoulder as she held him and struggled to keep herself standing from her own intense laughs. 

“I think we got a cheater on the loose,” Steve grinned, pointing at the ring Sam was trying to discreetly tuck back into his pocket. A friendly gift from T’Challa, no doubt. 

“Nuh-uh, give me the fucking proof, Wilson!” Bucky roared, wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck and tugging him forward. “I will not admit defeat if there was foul play involved!”

Sam escaped the hold, climbing onto the rock located to the side of the flag and a sign that read ‘do not climb on rocks’. 

“It just helped me calculate all things geometry, Barnes. We’re good.”

Bucky looked as if he was going to leap on him again, but before he could even finish that thought, Sam slipped on the wet surface and plummeted into the rushing little river. 

Laughter erupted and did not cease until you were escorted out of the fairgrounds by four security guards. 

     A flick of Wanda’s wrist and a new memory began forming, colors blending like an oil painting, dried and covered with a glossy varnish, ready to hang. 

     “Don’t trip on your way up, kid.”

Peter swatted Steve in the side as the super soldier left the room, leaving Peter alone in front of the full-length mirror. He adjusted his tie and tried to lay that pesky dangling strand of hair over the top of his head.

You got up from the couch and made your way over, wrapping your arms around Peter and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great. We’re all so proud.”

“It’s just high school…”

You frowned and turned him to face you. “No, you should already be in your second year of college. This is seven years in the making. We are all so proud.”

Peter could feel the slight burn at the corner of his eyes but he swallowed it down, giving you a small smile and a hug. 

“And can you trip? Don’t you stick to all surfaces?”

Peter scoffed and pushed you away, his tiny smile never faltering.

     You could feel Wanda shift her legs underneath you, searching for the most comfortable position as she continued her work. You sighed, already feeling the therapeutic effects. 

     “They’re all so pretty!” you yelled cheerfully, running through the field with your arms extended to the sky. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, leaning down every so often to pluck the flower of their choosing and adding to the bouquet in their hand. 

“Which did Tony prefer?” Steve asked, snapping you from your pollen-filled, ecstatic state. 

“Aesthetic beauty, Rogers! Natasha was a sucker for anything pink and sunflowers.”

Bucky nodded, seeming to take that information into consideration as he plucked the yellow and pink flowers only. Steve chose the most healthy looking flowers, his hand struggling to hold them together as he reached the two dozen mark. 

“I think we’re good. These are good.”

You smiled at both super soldiers and admired their bouquets, leaning over to sniff their masterpieces. “Awesome.”

     Wanda sighed as she neared your last vision, debating on showing you your chosen moment instead of another one. This moment always hurt Wanda as she wasn’t there to witness it, but it was special to you. There were so many others to choose from, but you insisted this was the one you always wanted to see. And Wanda was always hesitant at first - but when she lifted her hand slowly and dropped the memory back into the front of your brain, she couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Are we ready?”

Everyone was practically bouncing on their heels, both excited and terrified. Time travel was new to humanity and you were to be one of the first to experience such a thrill. You were going to get everyone back. 

You squeezed Natasha’s hand once more before you walked back over to Thor and Rocket. You all nodded to each other, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ with your childlike expressions. 

“See you in a minute,” Natasha grinned, her cheeks reddening with a friendly blush as she looked over at Steve. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a braid you had helped her make, and she was carrying an extra pair of socks in case of a long hike. 

Then a blast of color surrounded your body and the smell of peaches as you landed on Asgard filled your overstimulated senses. 

     You opened your eyes and smiled up at Wanda. You didn’t want to see old memories with your friend, but the most recent. It was like you were grasping onto that last memory of her, not wanting to change anything about her last smile, her last laugh, her last shred of existence. It was oddly calming, and so you hoped Wanda would understand. 

You thanked her again and proceeded to the kitchen. It was bigger than the one before, the soft forest green color of the walls a nice contrast from the blue ones before. You laughed to yourself and your conscience as you silently thanked the explosion that obliterated the horrid blue walls, quickly backtracking at your dumb thoughts. Still, you chose to joke about everything that happened before to avoid falling deeper into yourself. The kettle started howling, smoke circling around the tip. You poured your tea, dropped two cubes of sugar in, and added a little milk. 

It was quite bizarre how quickly you could bounce back from the morning you had. A very bloody, order-filled morning. When one order was given, you had to come up with a plan on how to not disregard the other. You had to listen to Fury and your father, gaining a few feet on each side without toppling the other. Still, it took a physical toll on you. But with Wanda’s help in easing your mind and the very sweet tea you nursed, your emotional baggage was pretty minimal. It sometimes scared you how easy it all was. 

Your morning carried on quietly as you sat on the concrete curb, happily sipping your tea in your sweatpants. You could hear Sam and Scott arguing about something a few feet away from you and Bucky taking his afternoon jog around the track. Quite distracted, the sudden ‘thwip’ and superhero landing of a certain teenager scared you enough to spill a little of your tea. 

“Goddamn, dude!” you whined, looking up at Peter as he tried to control his laughter. 

 “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me!”

“Excuse me for being distracted by the hot super soldier just over there,” you joked, pointing over at Bucky. 

Peter rolled his eyes and sat next to you, immediately reaching over to take the tea from you and take a sip himself. You let him, as you had no other choice, rolling your eyes anyway. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had classes today?”

Peter handed back your cup, “Nah, I’ve only got classes every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ugh, that sounds great. I remember I scheduled my classes for every day of the week just to have more units,” you sighed, taking another sip of tea. 

 “Stupid.”

You pushed Peter’s shoulder playfully, both your laughter catching the attention of Sam and Scott. But as quickly as you had distracted them, they ignored you and went back to bickering. 

“I’m just here to see my friends, sue me!”

“Nope, you’re always welcome,” you smiled, holding out your wrist and bumping your bracelet with his. “How was your week otherwise?”

“Eh, nothing major. Just trying to navigate the world now that they know who's behind the mask.”

You gave Peter a look of sympathy, still mad at the sudden manipulation of the kid after such traumatic events. You had promised him you would protect him by any means possible, as did the rest of the team, but he seemed to be navigating the situation just fine. Staying away from reporters, scheduling his classes during the most isolated gaps of the day, and signing dozens of forms that promised to protect him, give him royalties, etc. After you had brought everyone back, it seemed the least the new management/orders could provide for you all. 

“We all have our days,” you muttered, handing your tea back to Peter. You two sat there for a while longer, enjoying the slight breeze and taste of sugar. 

An agent rounded the corner and spotted you, jogging up and handing you a yellow folder that was sealed in plastic. “For you, from Fury, from whoever before that.”

“Um, thank you?” you said as the agent walked away. You inspected the folder, turning it over in your hands and playing with the thin plastic. 

You lifted it up to Peter’s face, “Here, smell it and tell me if there’s poison.”

Peter scoffed, “I can’t do that!”

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Peter muttered to himself as he took the folder from you, sniffing it awkwardly. “Smells like paper, dude.”

“Cool, thanks.” 

You ripped the plastic off and unhooked the folder, dropping the single item onto your lap. Peter just sipped your tea and watched you open it. 

It was another envelope, but this one was white with custom-printed indents that swirled across the front and a big, red blob of wax smushed- with your initials- sealing it. You ripped it open and pulled the invitation from inside. You must have read it a thousand times, eyes rapidly scanning the small page with secret meanings. 

“You got invited to a wedding?” Peter asked, taking it from you and reading it himself. 

“Yeah, but this is so much more than that,” you said, snatching it back and standing up from the curb. You quickly went back into the compound, searching for the one person who needed to read it also.

You seemed to find everyone before you found the super soldier who wasn’t out for a jog, a line of somewhat concerned superheroes following behind you from room to room. Eager minds and yet, inflexible rib cages full of anxiety and worry, all ready (and quite not) to tackle the new evils of this new world. And whether they followed you blindly or with functioning minds, they were prepared. 

With the rest of the team behind you, you burst through the second floor with the invitation held over your head. Steve stopped mid-bite, milk dripping from his bottom lip as he stared at everyone in confusion. “Um…”

“It’s time-” you started, pulling the stool from next to him and sitting down. 

“Time for what?” Steve interrupted, his mouth still full of cereal.

“Time for this,” you motioned to the envelope you were handing him. “-to finally end.”

Steve read the invitation word for word, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming deeper as his mind worked. You couldn’t quite discern the feeling in the pit of your stomach, twisting and spinning into a tight coil, seeming to spread to the others as it grew in pressure within you. 

“All three?”

“All three,” you confirmed. 

Peter pushed through Bruce and Rhodey, “What’s happening? What’s gonna end?”

You looked over at Steve, his bowl of cereal now forgotten and soggy. 

His eyes were distant and rather cold, hands extended on his knees as if he was drying the accumulating sweat, shoulders building tension. 

“Steve, we can finally end this. We have to tell everyone. It won’t be enough if it’s just you and me.”

He wanted to explode, in both anger and anguish, to stumble over his intact persona and leave it behind - someone he hasn’t known for a long time. It ate away at him each day since Fury notified him of your selfish choice, burrowing into his now tarnished soul in the most sadistic way. But the prospect of finishing this chapter - a chapter that was unexpectedly halted when half the world disappeared - was considerably euphoric. A chance to move on. 

“Okay.”

Rhodey already had knowledge of your background, recruitment, and family but Steve’s initial involvement - the start of it - was still a mystery. You sat everyone down in the living room, making room for the others who arrived later, and clapped your hands together. “Story time!”

Steve groaned, face already pressed against a throw pillow. “Just tell them.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“You know whose spawn I’m from,” you began, snickers from your amused friends encouraging you. “To better transport their product, they sent me over to the states to attend college like the good little girl they think I am.”

Sam cracked open a beer and lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting back with a massive smile on his face as he got comfortable for your story. He handed another beer to Scott. 

“Wait, product?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his drink. 

You smirked at him and tapped your nose twice, amused by his ‘O’ reaction. “Anyway, by then I already knew that I wanted out of the game. I didn’t like that life, I didn’t like the violence, I didn’t like my family.”

Steve knew that was an understatement, a cruel and restrained statement from your part, and he wanted to tell everyone just how justified you were in your words, how real you were being, and how much help you would certainly need for this. But like always, he remained silent. 

“But Fury got to me before I could leave. So, we made a deal. I would train as a field agent and he would promote me every other year to lessen suspicion on this whole ordeal. The deal being I would play both teams.”

By now, your whole team was intrigued. 

“I would do what I could for my father and still have my family’s trust, while feeding the information to SHIELD and our lovely star-spangled man over here,” you pointed over at Steve. He gave you a tiny but forced smile. 

“But after the collapse of SHIELD, my father only became more violent, more hard-headed, more suspicious. He- uh-” you stuttered, flashbacks suddenly filling your head. Wanda watched your eyes dart rapidly, sensing the rush of blood to your legs and tips of your fingers.

“He was power hungry,” Wanda said, immediately feeling your heart rate lower. Although you never actually said it, she could tell you were grateful for her intrusion. 

“Yeah, exactly,” you cleared your throat. “But Steve’s involvement all started when Fury asked me who would be the best front - the most reliable front.”

“So, with only Fury and the bad guys knowing - Y/N named me as her partner in crime,” Steve explained, head hanging low as if it was such a disgrace to do what you openly did. You knew his troubles with coming to terms with such an offensive role were multiplying daily, but you were now this close to stopping  every bad force involved. 

 “So, Captain America is the ultimate drug smuggler,” Scott spoke, somehow trying to comprehend the information all at once. You and Steve both nodded in confirmation and avoided the wide and questioning eyes looking back at you. 

“Yeah, he’s essentially the top boss.”

“Y/N-,” Steve interjected, but you beat him to  it. 

“And here we are! Him and I both invited to the wedding.”

Wanda stretched out her words, “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding - where three of the most famous and powerful drug lords south of the border will be attending and ready for our taking - including my father.”

Steve stood from his seat, posture straightening as he spoke to the group. “The invitation reads like a threat. No cameras, no plus-ones besides those listed specifically on the card, no speaking to reporters before or after. The trust Y/N has gained would unknowingly make us the contraband of the party.”

After going through more specifics about the whole situation, Bucky finally raised the question eating away at his mind this whole time. “Whose wedding is it, anyway?”

You grinned that stupid little grin Steve always prepared himself for. It was the grin you would display whenever you were going to make a serious matter a joke, or brush something serious off your shoulder as if it didn’t bother you. The sarcastic grin he always wanted to wipe off your face as you defied orders. 

“My lovely little sister’s.”

Rhodey stepped forward to take the invitation for personal inspection, “When is it?”

“A week from tomorrow,” you beamed. “Which means I got to get shopping for a wonderful little, red number!”

“Please, be more excited about this,” Steve groaned, sarcasm dripping off each syllable. 

You flicked your right hand up and in position to flash your charming little middle finger at him, a river of fluffed ego and delight flowing to your cheeks as he huffed and left the room in a stumbled march.

“So…” Scott’s voice ripped through the awkward silence. “We’ve been secret drug smugglers this whole time?”

~

Please let me know what you think! I listened “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and I was like... yes, I see this, lmao. Tell me if you would like to be tagged in later updates! xxMoni

#captain america #captain america x reader #captainsimagines #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #Bucky Barnes #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #endgame #infinity war #marvel fanfiction #angst fanfic #fluff #enemies to lovers #to topple #a giant #chapter one #part one #by moni #mutual pining #you x steve rogers #you x avengers #reader insert #Smut #avengers x you

[simplive]

you will become a memory.

manhunt au! dream team, badboyhalo. general hunter mini headcanons

caution. death, insane sapnap per usual, maybe hints of yandere

DREAM.

─ “to hunt or be hunted.”

to be the hunter when he is usually the hunted is uncommon, but it is welcomed all the same ─ dream will revel in your fear from start, to finish as long as he possibly can. confident enough in his abilities to let you roam about in the world for a lengthy period of time because the direction of this compass will always point to where you resided. he’s not even worried when you reach the nether. whatever pace you decide to go about, will he respectively follow a suit, choosing to be calm and calculating. you don’t hear him ever speak from the ear piece, only the sounds of his shoes crushing the leaves below him as he gains closer, and closer towards your way. letting the impending dread crawl in.

he’ll let you have that sense of security, before tearing it all away.

to strike fear in others... it is what he does best.

sometimes you can get him to have conversation, just not for long. no larger than five minutes because he always returns to the same withdrawn, quiet self everyone knows him by. maybe smart, funny comments here and there to fill in the initial silence, but they are all disregarded by the fact that dream is coming to kill you regardless. there’s nothing he wants to change about that, you both signed yourself for this situation... he’s simply going to honor what it takes to be a professional, merciless hunter. an unofficial title he silently wears like an emblem. so you were doomed from the very start the moment it’s been heard who’d be tracking you down exactly.

out of everyone, they send out him, making you wonder as if the whole world wanted you to perish.

death is to be expected. you can still be good friends and still die at his hands. you’ll let him, won’t you? it’s destiny, your destiny, and everyone knows nobody can escape it once their future has been set, written in stone. what is there to have hope for? a painless death, maybe, depends on how dream feels that exact moment ─ their pain is what makes up a part of the amusement in the chase. although, it’s not like he’s going to drag it out unlike a close friend of his. do not fret, you’ll go down in history as the first prey he’s bothered to open up to... isn’t that good enough?

so why does his heart still pang at the thought?

no no, these are just mindless feelings, barely skin-deep. they’ll go away within seconds if he pays them no attention, just getting his objectives over with and moving onto the next victim. he’s doing this all for survival, and who knows... you’d do the exact same if you too wanted to live. this is a dog-eat-dog world, you either kill someone, or get killed. in fact, because you’re inflicting these unknown emotions on him gives dream more motivation to follow through with these objectives.

he’ll have you until your last breath.

GEORGE.

─ “love me until you die.”

george wants you to be comfortable and scared at the same time, he doesn’t want you to think of him as only a monster like the others. see? there’s still a bit of mercy in him to let you slide at times, shaking it off as a ‘silly little mistake’ of his, but it’s all planned. always has been. he doesn’t like to say this much, but, he pities your situation. the game cannot end until one completes the objectives... and by the looks of it, you’re nowhere as close to the finish line. be free to ask for tips or pointers whenever, he’s generous to share what he thinks will benefit you. it’s up to you whether you trust him or not, there is no offense to be taken, he’d have a hard time believing in your situation.

you can try to talk him out of this for a chance, but a job is a job, someone has to get this done.

and who knows what’ll happen to him if he doesn’t follow through.

your moments together were only meant to be full on bittersweet. you hate that he still tries to be nice against all, as if your life wasn’t placed in his hands to begin with. it would’ve been so much easier to despise george if he’d been vile, heartless, cruel even... but he isn’t. he’s kind, too kind, and you’re starting to think that maybe this was just your unescapable fate. something that transpired during your blurred life was apparently unacceptable for you to live on, it’s starting to finally make sense. no one can elude destiny as much as they pray. of course, when given a chance to slip from death, you’d take it without hesitation... but if all doesn’t go well, then that’s alright too.

everything should be okay if george is here, with you.

will you tell him these sentimental views, especially when you’re lying carelessly on the verge of death? absolutely not. he’d start to feel bad, and that’s the last thing you’d want from him. he’s only doing his job like anyone else, this is somewhat normal despite a few circumstances. you’ll keep reminding yourself anytime despair tries to reach out to you, pulling away from its tantalizing vicinity. don’t go back on this choice, don’t let the sadness take you.

don’t let him regret.

with your head perched comfortably onto his lap, blood spilling at your lips as you try to confess multiple things all at once, then failing miserably. they come out as a garbled mess of sounds unsurprisingly, rather faint to the ears, but there’s enough affection to get through him. you’ll squeeze his hand weakly in hopes of delivering a message, certainly woozy and content nonetheless. he smiles, smiles sadly at the result of his success, but this is what george had desired the whole time.

a chance to spill out his true feelings for you.

SAPNAP.

─ “look at me in the eyes.”

perhaps the most happiest one of the bunch to end someone’s life for the fun of it, quickly that is. he doesn’t want to waste time chasing after you endlessly all over the world, takes too much energy and patience... sapnap prefers to have you right in front of him so he can get right into action. there’s no point in running, everyone knows this. you do too, but such fact could never stop you from trying anyways ─ why not take advantage of that ten percent chance survival rate than do nothing at all? even he somewhat agrees with this new knowledge. there’s no fun in having a compliant little mouse. despite the obvious frustration of tracking you down, he knows it’ll be worth it in the finale when seeing you beg.

always, always looking forward to new targets. everyone is unique: their reactions, their struggles, every part of them. it’s good to have a taste of something refreshing and new. for being the type of person he was, having the same type of people to play with is completely boring, hunting would’ve became a tedious chore at that point. sapnap is ecstatic to hear about you. not much information was disclosed about you, there must be something intriguing then for the lack of story.

he hopes you won’t disappoint him.

sometimes he’ll let his ‘guard down’, sometimes. it’s only to get you motivated again because hopelessness will begin to bore him exceedingly. “don’t give up completely, little [name],” sapnap coos sickeningly, “maybe you’ll have a chance if you actually try for once. should i be nice like george, and give you another head start?” his encouragement, if you could even call it that are down right patronizing, doesn’t try to hide any malicious undertones because he’s confident his words will affect you just the way he wanted.

the fun can’t go on forever. he wants you to suffer for everything you’d put him through. sapnap did not waste three full days trying to corner you, shedding sweat, effort, and time in doing so for you to try and come up with some other excuse for him not to kill you. no, you’re misunderstanding, that’s not what he’s here for. money? no. fame? absolutely not. if it wasn’t any obvious,

he’s here to feed on your fear.

BAD.

─ “forgive me.”

like george, does manhunts because he has to, and it is quite absurd. bad has a huge problem with others having a foul mouth, but happens to not have any qualms raising a blade at someone’s throat. what kind of morals were those? he too questions these actions like any sane person would, however, does not do anything to change his ways because... it’s not in his power. what good would it do to suddenly just switch mindsets all of a sudden, superiors will start to question him and everyone he’d grown to love would suspect. to quit then would be breaking the code, and that’ll be like breaking someone’s trust. bad shouldn’t do it, he’s always reminding himself.

he shouldn’t...

and still, he’s probably the only one who has the hearts to let you go.

for first impressions, bad certainly doesn’t strike you as a hunter. he takes the time to introduce him properly, salutations and a heartfelt apology. you ask, why apologize so suddenly, we just met. he can’t do anything other than sigh, letting the silence answer your question. well, you’re currently the first one on his list, the first to die at that. he’s just here for warnings, letting you gain a huge head start...

calls you muffin as another form of affection. strikes to be strange at first, but you slowly get used to the nickname as you do him, able to enjoy the situation because it’s starting to feel like a nice game of a fusion of hide and seek, and good ol’ tag. he hasn’t been able to physically hurt you once, or at least is trying to make it seem like a mistake ─ missing opportunities, or forgetting to. whatever the case may be, you’re not complaining one bit. in fact, you too haven’t tried to raise a blade at him either.

why would you even?

your kindness is limitless, and it proves when bad cannot fathom hurting you under any circumstances. most of his victims were very aggressive, always cussing at him no matter the context, maybe that’s why guilt hasn’t officially hit him until now. the you who still manages to laugh despite everything, thank you for letting him see the horrors of his actions. “will... i’ll be able to see you again?” you murmur, unsure if you should turn your back on him and leave.

“... maybe some day! for now, you should go. be careful though, some might recognize your face as well.”

he never tells you that his life would be of no more, and he lets you go, the oblivious one, with a bittersweet smile.

#dream team #dream team x reader #dteam #dteam x reader #dream #dream x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #badboyhalo #badboyhalo x reader #manhunt au #[ everyone is chillin n #then theres bad ]

[90slevi]

First Date {Denki Kaminari x Reader}

Finally some wholesome fluff because why not? And who better to write fluff about that our Denki Kaminari? :)

Kaminari was shaking.

Not with fear or anything, but because he was excited. And nervous, of course, but mainly excited.

Ever since he'd left U.A to become a pro-hero, he'd had no time to go out looking for relationships or start dating, but now he had more time on his hands, he'd finally met someone online. Someone who wouldn't use him for a free meal or someone who'd use him for money and fame. Finally, he'd met someone who seemed to genuinely like him for who he was, and he couldn't be more excited as he sat in the half-full cafe, his phone in his hand as he messaged his best friend about the new girl he was just about to meet for the ninth time that day.

Nibbling on his thumb, he looked out of the large window beside him as people walked past, looking for the kind face he'd seen in many pictures and in one call. Yes, he'd only called you once, and it'd lasted over four hours as the two of you bonded over music, heroes, comic books and more interests of yours. As Kaminari thought about you more, the more excited he became; the butterflies in his stomach became heavier and heavier, and he was waiting for the cafe door to open so the weight on his shoulders could disappear.

You felt just as excited.

Focusing on your studies at a regular, non-hero school had been tough, and you'd spent so many nights revising that you hadn't had chance to jump into the dating scheme, and now you'd met the perfect person.

Denki Kaminari, the current 19th Pro-Hero with lightning-blonde hair and a contagious smile that made your heart race, was the man you'd started talking to. He was a man not only with an attractive face, but he had the sweetest personality too, something you focused on so much more. He was incredibly funny, most of the time unintentionally, and had a heart of gold, even sending you a cute little letter in the mail with a box of pocky as a gift only two weeks after messaging you. When he asked you on a date, there was no way in hell you were denying him. You even called up sick to your job just so you could go meet him, which wasn't something he needed to know.

As you walked down the street towards the cafe you were supposed to meet him in, you checked your watch and panicked. Five minutes late. Again. Picking up the pace, you held your bag close to your chest and adjusted your skirt so it wasn't rising, and finally met the entrance, praying to whoever that you'd come to the right place. Pushing open the door, you walked inside, the sweet, warm smells of blueberry muffins and strawberry jam hit your nostrils, and you couldn't help but become rather giddy.

Quickly, you scanned the cafe. It had a really pretty interior, with modern, brown and beige walls and large mirrors and windows. Vintage picture frames hung as decoration and a few realistic plants were sitting on a shelf on the far right. Tables were set neatly in rows, with couples and families sitting on almost all of them. Nibbling your thumb, you stood on your toes, looking for the familiar tuft of blonde hair that belonged to Kaminari, and when you saw him, your heart almost stopped.

He wasn't looking up; instead, he had his nose in one of the menus, presumably ordering a drink for himself before you arrived, and you rushed enthusiastically over, catching his attention instantly.

His hazel eyes lit up, and he waved happily as you arrived at the table. Standing up, he was unsure of what to do. He really wanted to hug you, but he had no idea what your boundaries were and he didn't want to overstep them already. Handshake? No, that's stupid. High-five? Completely out of the question.

Thankfully, you caught on to his mini-dilemma and pulled him into a hug, his arms wrapping around your shoulders for a few seconds before pulling away. You gave him a quick squeeze before sitting down, dropping your bag beside you and beaming.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" Kaminari said, a hint of pink appearing on his cheeks as he admired you. "You look so pretty!"

"Thank you!" you grinned, clapping your hands together at the compliment. "You look lovely too. And yeah, I got a little nervous that I'd come to the wrong place, but I'm here now! Say, how long have you been here for?"

"Only ten minutes, don't worry," he answered, and you quickly apologised for being late. "Hey! Don't worry about it! I usually get here a little early, anyway."

"Ah, so someone's eager," you joked, giggling as he became flustered. "Don't worry, you're not the only one."

His eyes lit up, and his smile seemed to be uncontrollable at this point. As mentioned before, you found his grin extremely contagious, and you couldn't help but return it as you glanced towards the menu put in front of you.

"What made you choose this place?" you asked, cocking your head at him as you glanced towards the drinks, becoming interested in the unique cocktails and milkshakes the cafe made. One that really attracted your eye was a vanilla milkshake that had a dollop of strawberry ice-cream on top with a swirl of whipped cream and marshmallows, and it seemed to peak Kaminari's curiosity too.

"Well, two of my friends bought their dates here, and they ended up getting together in the end, so why not give it a shot?" he said, and you chuckled at his explanation. You were so glad he was just as eager as you were about him, and you prayed this all went well because he was probably the sweetest guy you'd ever met. "Ah, sorry, was that a bit too up-front?"

"No, I feel the same," you grinned, trying your best to comfort the poor guy. He seemed to be trying his best but couldn't help himself from rushing, and you couldn't blame him. He was a single pro-hero, while all his other friends were in relationships and one or two even married. "It's nice to be honest!"

"Heh, I'm glad you think that, because from what I've heard, other girls think it's weird," Kaminari chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, you've clearly not met many girls who like you for who you are," you beamed, and his eyes, once again, lit up in excitement. "But I do, so hello!"

Kaminari was completely and utterly in love.

However, before their conversations could continue, a waitress wandered over, wearing the cute uniform you used to wear before beginning a different job. A cute, light brown blouse and black trousers with a beige apron over the top was the perfect uniform, at least in your eyes.

"Good evening, guys!" the woman said enthusiastically, a wide smile on her face as she held a clipboard in her hands. "May I take your drink orders?"

"Sure!" Kaminari replied, glancing over to you to make sure you were ready. However, to give you a tiny bit more time, he decided to speak first. "I'll take the iced coffee with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice-cream, please!"

"And you?" the waitress asked politely to you as she wrote down Kaminari's drink. You pouted as you read one of the options you were particularly drawn to, and the blonde couldn't help but watch at the cute things you did without realising it.

When he'd called you for the first time, he'd picked up on so many of your adorable mannerisms that even you yourself hadn't noticed, and he couldn't help but poke fun of you every time you did them. Now, he had found another to tease you about, and he couldn't wait to see your pretty reaction to it.

"I'll have this!" you said, pointing to the name you struggled to pronounce. The waitress glanced over and nodded, noting it down. It was the vanilla milkshake you'd spotted earlier, and you thanked her as she walked away. "Yo, how the hell do you say that?!"

Kaminari looked over, his eyebrows furrowed, and he almost snorted at the funny spelling. "You're asking the one who had dyslexia, Y/n. I have absolutely no idea what that says."

Grimacing, you wondered why the hell you'd chosen the drink you couldn't say, but thankfully you'd saved yourself from embarrassment by NOT saying it. However, Kaminari had a smug grin on his face, and you cocked your head at him in confusion.

"Y'know how I was making fun of you for sticking your tongue out when you write the other day?" he asked, and you nodded slowly, hoping to dear God you didn't just do that. "Well, you pouted when you read the menu, and it was probably the cutest thing ever."

"Oh no!" you complained, a laugh escaping your lips as you buried your face into your hands. Kaminari joined in with your laughter, watching as the tips of your ears went pink. "You're joking! I haven't done that since I was a damn kid!"

"Well, you've done it again," Kaminari grinned, glad he'd bought it up just to see your reaction. "And I love it!"

About an hour and a half passed, the two of you joking around and laughing as you ordered meals and deserts. You completely adored the guy, his optimism, positivity, and enthusiasm rubbing off on you so much that you now had a better outlook on life. He constantly threw cheesy pick-up lines at you that you'd expect to hear in middle-school, but at the same time, it was refreshing and fun instead of completely cringy, and at one point, you played footsie under the table to the point where you hit your ankle on the table leg so badly you audibly said ouch. He didn't even judge you when you dropped food on your shirt and cursed a little loudly by accident, instead laughing with you and grabbing a tissue as quickly as possible so it hopefully didn't stain your shirt.

And, because you were having so much fun, you didn't notice it get dark outside.

"Oh sugar," you muttered suddenly, glancing outside the window as the sun passed the horizon and the sky went from a light blue and orange to navy blue and purple. You gulped, becoming rather nervous, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Kaminari noticed your sudden change in attitude, and he took your hand in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely caring.

"It's getting dark," you answered, nibbling on your finger. "And I walked here... I don't fancy getting attacked by a villain."

"I can always walk you home if you need it," Kaminari offered, and you looked at him guiltily, not wanting him to go all the way to your house as it'd take him longer to get home. "Y/n, if it means spending more time with you, then I really don't mind. In fact, I'd love that!"

Pink spread across your cheeks at the flirtatious compliment, and you nodded gently. Although you still felt pretty guilty, you wanted to spend more time with the guy, and that gave you a giddiness you hadn't felt since you were a teenager. That same giddiness you'd felt after falling in love for the first time. Hopefully, this time, you wouldn't be completely crushed.

"Split the bill?" you asked Kaminari, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I was gonna pay the whole thing!"

"Absolutely not!" you exclaimed, pulling your purse out of your bag and rummaging around for your card. "I'll pay exactly half. It's only fair, right?"

"If you insist," the blonde chuckled, taking out his own card and paying at the bar, where the same waitress was standing. You wandered over and did the same, pulling your jacket over your shoulders and eventually putting your card back in your bag. The two of you bid your farewells to the cafe owners, before wandering down the dark street.

It was obvious you were nervous, and with good reason, too. Only a year ago, you'd been walking alone from a friend's house and been attacked by a villain, who'd not only assaulted you but stole your bag too. It'd left you both traumatised and terrified of being alone in the dark, so it was suitable for Kaminari to offer to walk you home. He'd known this since the call you'd had, which you'd accidentally blurted out your deepest secret of having a fear of the dark. Of course, it was only natural for him to ask why, and you explained the whole story.

If anyone tried to hurt you, he'd absolutely tear them to shreds.

As the two of you walked, your hands eventually interlocked, your fingers linking with his as a cool autumn breeze danced around your body, leaving small goosebumps on your skin. A happy smile appeared on Kaminari's face as he gave your hand a squeeze, and you returned the little gesture.

"So, how far away is your house?" he asked, and you pointed down the street you were on.

"You go down there, turn left, and take another right," you explained, and he nodded. "It's not too far, about a ten-minute walk, but it's still a little scary."

"Yeah, I wasn't the biggest fan of the dark when I was younger," Kaminari chuckled, glancing down an alleyway as the two of you passed it. Since he became a professional hero within the top twenty ranks, he'd clearly become much more aware of his surroundings and even a little paranoid, praying he wasn't going to be ambushed. He had of course warned you of the dangers of dating a pro-hero, but you really didn't care. Whether he was a pro-hero or not, you loved him a lot. "And my house was right next to U.A, so it was pretty ridiculous!"

You giggled, imagining what Kaminari was like when he was younger. You'd been told by one of his friends that he'd been a total flirt and a bit of an idiot, and you saw that he hadn't exactly changed much. Which was good, because he was definitely your type.

Eventually, you reached your house with no problem at all. At one point, he'd let a small spark of electricity emit from his hand to light the way when you became particularly nervous passing the same alleyway you'd been assaulted in, but you sighed with relief when you entered your warm home.

"Thank you so much for the amazing evening," you beamed, and Kaminari grinned.

"It's honestly been such a great day, so thank YOU," he replied, and you smiled at his comments. "I really hope you're free tomorrow because I've got some free time that afternoon and I'd love to call you again."

"I can make time if you'd like," you chuckled, and his smile grew. "I should finish work at about 4pm."

"That's great! I think I finish at about 5, so we can call if you want!" Kaminari exclaimed enthusiastically, and at that moment, something just took over.

You kissed him.

Your lips met his so suddenly that the blonde was in so much shock to even move, but once he realised what was going on, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed into the kiss, his slightly chapped yet perfectly-shaped lips merging with yours. And, once you pulled away, he gave you a quick peck on the forehead for good measure. Your face was pink, surprised with what you'd done, and so was Kaminari.

"Well, I'll be seeing you tomorrow," he said, making you laugh. "Have a great night, Y/n."

"You too, Denki!" you beamed, waving as he left the premises. “Get home safely, and sleep well!”

#denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #anime #fanfiction #kaminari is dyslexic

[quakeriders]

Feysand and number 39 please!

college prompt list + 39. during a drinking game at a house party, we’re dared to kiss even though we barely know each other and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

note: I’m still on mini-hiatus. this was sitting half-finished in my drafts for ages, I just finished writing the latter half bc i needed to cheer myself up. hope it makes you feel all warm and tingly, too. you can always send in more prompts! (masterlist - prompt tag)

“Oh, no!” Feyre gasped, dropping her muffin.

It landed on her lap, crumbs flying everywhere but Feyre couldn’t be bothered with it. Not now.

She ducked her head, trying to make herself small, blend in with the wallpaper behind her or hide herself behind Lucien’s bigger body.

“What are you doing?” Her friend asked, raising a brow.

She shushed him, picking up the muffin and placing it onto her plate before angling her body away from the front of the shop.

Lucien, ever the observant and asshole friend, deliberately turned around and followed her gaze. He let out a snicker at what he found.

Feyre shushed him again. More aggressively this time. “Luce, I swear to god-”

“Hey! Hey, Rhys!” He shouted above the noise in the shop.

The tall figure clad in all black turned, eyes flying over the sea of people before finding Feyre and Lucien in the back corner. Even from all the way back, Feyre could see his lips pulling into a wide grin.

And while the barista was busy preparing his coffee, Rhys smoothly walked towards them.

Feyre gritted her teeth, trying not to look at his face, or his chest or any other part of his body. And even as she forced her eyes onto Lucien, who had turned back to smirk at her, she felt herself blush.

“Aw.” He cooed, grinning wickedly.

“Shut up,” Feyre hissed, acutely aware how close Rhys was getting. “I hate you. I swear, you’re going to regret-”

She stopped when the Rhys stopped right by their table.

“Fancy seeing you two here.” He purred, sliding his hands into his pockets and fixing Feyre with those brilliantly violet eyes.

Judging by how much her cheeks were burning, her face must have turned completely red. Mercifully, Rhys didn’t comment.

No, instead, for a brief flicker of a moment, his gaze dipped to her lips and slid back up her face.

She almost groaned as their eyes met again.

God, her whole body felt like it had been set on fire. Her insides were clenching and even as she tried not to think about it, she remembered the feeling of his lips on hers.

How his breath had tickled her cheek right before their kiss. How his lips had tasted like cheap beer and desire. How his hands had been gentle on her waist and how his eyes had sparkled in the low light. How he had just looked at her, catching his breath afterwards.

“Really?” Lucien asked, his voice teasing as he broke the silence. “I think it’s quite common knowledge that Feyre and I meet here at least four times a week.”

Rhys merely chuckled, unbothered by being called out.

Feyre really should say something. She just couldn’t make her jaw work. Or her brain.

“Pray tell, Rhysand,” Lucien went on, that teasing tone shifting into something more cunning and letting Feyre know that her best friend was up to no good. “What are you doing here?”

Rhys didn’t look away from her. Even as his smile widened, even as he recognised the challenge in Lucien’s words and something sparked in his eyes.

“I was hoping that today would be one of the days, you and Feyre meet here.” He spoke the words in a soft tone, his eyes holding hers and she was sure that even if she had wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to look away.

“And why is that?”

Feyre really wanted Lucien to shut up. Didn’t she?

“Americano for Rhysand.” The barista called just then and Feyre’s heart sank.

Rhys finally looked away from her. To Lucien. “Would you be a dear, foxboy, and get that for me?”

And finally Feyre’s jaw unclenched. Because Lucien– Lucien had gotten up from his seat and with a wink in her direction, sauntered towards the counter to do as Rhys had asked.

“May I sit?” He asked, a few heartbeats later.

Feyre’s eyes snapped back to his face and she nodded. As he pulled over a chair from the nearby empty table, Feyre noticed that she still had a few crumbles on her lap and tried to brush them off without him noticing.

Their table was small, barely large enough to seat two people opposite each other. Rhys positioned the chair in a way that he could sit at the narrower side of the table and when he slid into his seat, his leg brushed against hers.

She swallowed hard, eyes flickering from him to Lucien who had picked up the cup and was coming back to their table.

“I was hoping we’d get more time alone.” Rhys said, a strange quality to his voice. She wasn’t quite sure if it was disappointment or nervousness.

Either way, she felt her pulse only speed up, flashes of their kiss coming back to her, the feel of his body pressed against hers, how soft his lips had been, how his stubble had felt scratchy under her fingertips.

“And why’s that?” She asked, her voice breathy. Feyre would have felt embarrassed about that if Rhys hadn’t immediately bit his lip in response to her words. She really wanted to kiss him again. And she was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

If she hadn’t been too caught up in staring at him, Feyre would have noticed sooner that Lucien had stopped coming towards them. He had stopped in a way that Rhys couldn’t see him and he was waving towards her. Once their eyes locked, Lucien wiggled his eye brows and gestured towards the door of the shop.

Feyre almost burst out laughing.

It must have shown on her face, because Rhys said, “Let me guess, foxboy is trying to be slick and give us some privacy?”

She couldn’t help it, she started giggling. “Yeah.”

Rhys was grinning, too. Lucien, still holding onto Rhys’ cup of coffee, threw up one arm in the air, dramatically rolling his eyes. She could see his lips moving but had no idea what exactly he was saying.

“Actually, Rhys,” Feyre said, looking back at him and finding his smile slowly disappearing. “Luce and I were in the middle of a very serious conversation. How about you and I meet up at another time?”

“Oh, sure.” Rhys said, his face had gone from smiling to carefully neutral to brilliantly delighted. “Yeah, of course.”

Feyre couldn’t help but smile in return. But when he still didn’t say anything else, Feyre sighed. “How about I give you my number and you text me. Does that sound good to you?”

Now she could make out a faint blush on his cheeks. His brown skin glowed and his usually sure and graceful movements were more flustered than anything. Suddenly, Feyre didn’t feel as weird about dropping her whole muffin.

She grinned as she typed her number into his phone. And then, just because he had called her best friend foxboy twice, a nickname Lucien despised, Feyre asked, “Have you ever asked a girl out before, Rhys? Because you kind of suck at this.”

He let out a flustered laugh, running a hand through his thick hair and ruining the careful styling. “Actually, usually I’m quite good at it. But with you-” He looked away, swallowing once before fixing her with an intense look. “It’s different with you.”

“Should I be offended?” Feyre asked, biting back a smirk. Just then she noticed Lucien approaching the table.

“You know that’s not what I mean. I mean- um, with you it’s different, I-” Rhys stumbled over his words. It was kind of endearing seeing him struggling to find words. Feyre knew she must be smiling like an idiot because Lucien scoffed as he slid back into his seat and placed Rhys’ cup of coffee on the table.

“How are you the best in Professor Suriel’s class, you can barely string two sentences together.” Lucien remarked, winking at Feyre.

Rhys let out a strangled laugh, licking his lips and looking away from her. “I honestly don’t know. Also,” He looked back at Feyre, his smile turning soft, “I should go. Thanks for picking up my coffee, foxboy. Feyre, I’ll text you.”

He got to his feet and Feyre watched as he turned and walked out of the shop. On his way through the door, he turned and their eyes met once more. He winked at her and she couldn’t help but smile stupidly as the door fell shut.

Lucien let out a long, dramatic groan and dropped his face into his hands. “Don’t tell me you gave him your number.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” Feyre replied, picking her muffing back up and biting into it.

Lucien laughed into his hands and Feyre’s phone lit up with a new message from an unknown number.

hey darling, just in case i can’t find my words here’s my number -rhys

She picked up her phone and saved the number before putting it away and asking, “So, back to your love life. Tell me about the date.”

– taglist –

there’s a problem with my new taglist post so if you want to be added do both of these steps:

like or reblog or reply to this post (old taglist, currently in use)

reblog this post (new taglist, once issue is fixed will be used exclusively)

–

part one of the taglist, part two will be added via @feysandfic:

@rhysands-highlady @a-court-of-cressworth @artemis1802 @thenameisjaida-blog @technicallysizzlingcloud @misslonglegs @happy-smiling-things @blueeyes425 @occhitempestosi @darling-archeron @bat-wing-rhys @murphyslawthings @certain-mermaid @anachr0 @inez-lannister-stark-martell @liquifyme @virawolf @eversincebeirut @awkwardlittleintrovert @books-and-dreamers @heroesofterrasen @mynewdreamwasyou @velarian-trash @cweeblr @itsafeziwearafeznowfezzesarecool @ichoosesakichu @lorynkay @myfeyrelady @akina-astute @bookloverkat @flowerspringsea @charincharge @th-th-th-thats-all-folks @bambamdallas @wifeofchrishemsworth @tswaney17 @highqueenofelfhame @empress-of-big-delusions @inrealliampain @daylightningg @joyceortiz13 @imheretooa @fangirltrash74 @notyourclassicshadowhunter @thesurielships @lilholmes @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @lorcansalvaterree @bluefeathers17 @acer6437 @viridien-vixen @soup-that-is-too-hawt @tangledraysofsunshine @runawayrowan @yikesitsmaddie @philostuff @tonvstarktrash @l0sts0uls1128 @acobtr @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @emeraldbluexxxx @carlyrollsroyce @laina-sama @jellenett @thorkypig @tothemaas @bookishfairylights @nitrot150 @samibookishfan @anabelkay @a97girl @rapunzelswiftie @theogvodkaaunt @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer @missbrightsky @lauraisfae @nephelearts @vi0let-femmes @illyrianbats @optimisticbooklover @cinemaaddict @elide-lochan-salvaterre @kylizzles @annejulianneh111 @myqueenjudeduarte-main @marvisbacon @notyourmomsnephilim @breezyfreezey @tonypetersteve @fourshizzle149 @ame233 @inconsolable-archfiend1025 @randomtogacotar22 @fi-fi-firefly @nish247 @ttakeitbacknoww @juliette-reads @lostandfallenstar @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @hellas-himself @blackthorns-herondales @thecarrioncrow @tavarillasgalen @avenrebekah @photofeesh @thestarwhowishes @standbislytherin @kronskoda @rairrai @spidey-nonsense @ashleycrost @th3-br0k3n-ang3l @highlady-of-dusk @somebodysqueen @kingdomofbrokenhearts @feysand-dot-acotar @missmathdork @rosegoldannie @hellhoundsinbelgravia @utterlyamelie @daisyjdaisy @embracetheweirdness7 @biandannoyed @othersideoftheportal @abillionlittlepieces @queenofdorkville @summernightskyy @highladyofherondale @iliveforfandoms226 @run-as-fast-as-you-caan @feyrearcherons @raghad-50725 @kindofawalkingpoem @light-in-the-shadows72

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic #my fic #anon #asks #no edits we die like (wo)men #seriously i didnt even read through the latter half bc i needed to write something fluffy and not think about it i hope its not trash

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.5

Summary: Bucky & Steve’s date has some unintended consequences forcing Bucky to make some hard decisions. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: Attempted child abduction. Emphasis on ATTEMPTED. Becca will be fine ya’ll. 

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Remember last chapter where I was like “oh hey enjoy this unusually large chapter”? Well, I went to write a normally sized chapter and my hand slipped. Whoops! Enjoy another giant beast chapter lovelies! And don’t hate me for the angst!! I promise this fic has a happy ending, it’s just a long road to get there. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Five

Bucky wakes to bright light streaming in his bedroom window and Becca sitting on top of him. “Wake up sleepy head!” she chirps, shoving his shoulder as hard as she can. 

“Whoa, calm it down little miss.” Bucky grumbles. 

“I’m gonna be late!” 

Bucky looks over at the alarm clock and realizes she’s right. “Shit.” 

“Bad word!!” 

“Becca!” Bucky snaps and instantly regrets it. “Quieter, bug. Please. Come on, let’s get moving.” 

Bucky hurries Becca through her morning routine, grabbing her tiny backpack and breakfast on their way out the door. Bucky knows he’s a mess, hair sloppily thrown up in a bun, sweatpants and a hoodie because he just can’t take the time to find real clothes. He doesn’t even bother to throw on his prosthetic. Becca nibbles at her string cheese and mini muffins as they hustle down the busy city sidewalks to her school, just finishing as they round the last corner. He gives her a quick hug and kiss before she runs into the building screeching hello to the teacher at the door. The teacher gives Bucky an odd look that he chalks up to him looking like a hot mess and he gives her a small wave and terse smile in return. 

It’s early yet and Bucky doesn’t have to worry about work for a few more hours so he decides to splurge and stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich on his walk home. One treat won’t hurt and he’s still holding on to the warm feeling in his chest from last night’s date with Steve. Waiting in line a few other people give Bucky strange looks and he wonders how rough of shape he’s in. He prays there isn’t a giant rip on his clothes or something but after a discrete check he doesn’t think that’s the case. Just a weird morning then. 

The hoodie actually comes in handy once Bucky realizes he can’t carry both a sandwich and his coffee when he’s down an arm. Tucking the sandwich in his hoodie pouch, he sips the pumpkin spice latte slowly enjoying the sweet fall flavors on his way home. His phone starts chirping at him but with no free hand Bucky is forced to ignore it until he gets back to the apartment. It was going off earlier too and he figures who ever needs him so damn bad can just wait five more minutes. 

Bucky stretches out on the sofa to enjoy his breakfast, throwing on a random movie from his queue, when he finally looks at his phone. He wonders if the world is ending and he missed it somehow. Eight missed calls from Steve, two voicemails, and four texts. Two calls from Natasha, one voicemail, and two texts. Three texts from Clint. 

Natasha wants to know if he’s seen the news, if he’s okay, and what she can do to help. 

Clint also asks if he’s okay and tells him he’s an ass for not sharing the deets. 

Steve asks him repeatedly to call him, frantically apologizing in between. 

Still confused and becoming increasingly worried, Bucky brings up the news on his phone and finds his own face on the front page. The picture is from the night before, he and Steve walking back to his place with Becca on Steve’s shoulders. They look so happy that it tugs at Bucky’s heartstrings before the realization of what this means sinks in. He shoots a quick text to Natasha assuring her that he’s fine and he’ll catch up with her tonight. Clint gets two emojis in response: a thumbs up and the middle finger. Steve, he actually calls back. The blonde had sounded so worried in his voicemails. 

“Bucky, thank god.” Steve blurts out in lieu of hello. 

“Well good morning to you too.” Bucky jokes. 

“Are you okay? Is Becca okay?” 

“Yeah, Steve, we’re good. I just dropped Becca off a preschool. I don’t know what you’re worried about, it was a normal morning outside of a few funny looks. But honestly that was probably me going out looking like a hobo because I overslept.” 

“Buck…” Steve falters, “It won’t be long ‘til they figure out who you are. We can keep the press at bay here in the tower but you’re going to have some serious issues as soon as a reporter gets your name. You and Becca could come stay here for a bit or I can have a security team allocated to you both until the news dies down.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down a minute. We don’t need security and I’m not dragging Becca to Manhattan just because some dudes with cameras may or may not come pester us. We’ll be okay.” 

“I’m just worried about you guys. You didn’t sign on for the shit storm that’s blowing up right now. I’m so sorry, Buck.” 

“Actually, I did.” Bucky points out, “I’m not stupid, Steve. I knew what I was signing on for the minute we started talking. It’s gonna be okay, nothing lasts forever and Becca is a resilient kid.” 

Steve is quiet for a long moment, trying to compose himself to say what he knows he needs to say. “If you need to take some time apart until this all dies down…” he chokes up and lets the sentence lie. 

“No.” Bucky’s voice is firm. “I’m not running on you again. We’re gonna deal with this together.” 

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily in relief, “I’m going to be tied up today doing interviews. Apparently there’s no hiding the fact that I’m bisexual now. It’s funny that I’ve never tried to hide it but the news is claiming I’ve been ‘publicly outed’ by the tabloids. I’m not going to say a whole lot about you, about us. I don’t want to speak for you or anything. But if you’re okay with it, I would like to confirm that I’m in a relationship and that I care about you very much.” 

“Aww, you big sap. Yeah, of course that’s fine.” 

“Can I call you later when I have time?” 

“I’m working tonight but I’ll have a chance for a quick break around 10pm.” 

“I’ll talk to you then. If you need anything, I mean it Buck, anything, just call me. I’ll pick up on national TV if I have to.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and hopes Steve can feel his exasperation through the phone lines. “Get going, ya punk. You have a country full of conservatives to horrify with your secret homosexual agenda.” 

Steve laughs, the first bit of happiness he’s had since waking up to the news. “Will do.” he says quickly and hangs up before his overly dramatic heart can blurt out something terribly stupid like I love you. He pushes down the tender, fledgling emotion, knowing it’s too fast but feeling the gentle flutters nonetheless. 

Natasha arrives at Bucky’s apartment a full hour early that night so he can get her caught up while making dinner for her and Becca, while Becca watches an episode of Wonder Pets in the living room. Natasha apparently watched a few interview clips of Steve’s and teases Bucky over how completely smitten they both are. It’s nice and normal, the teasing and banter over a new relationship with his best friend. It makes him think Steve really was just being overly concerned with his fears.

It’s a blessedly slow night at the ER and no one seems to recognize Bucky as he hops from one patient to the next, getting people stabilized and ready to be seen by one of the doctors on shift. When Steve calls at ten he sounds better than he had that morning. He’s exhausted from the media circus but pleased that he was able to get the story out in his own words. He asked for privacy for all their sakes but knows it won’t last long. Bucky continues to assure him that they’ll handle things as they come and to not worry. Steve can’t help but feel like it’s the calm before the storm. 

The calm only lasts until 2am. Dr. Strange pulls Bucky out of a patient room, pushing Darcy in to take his place and dragging him down the hall to the staff break room. “What the hell?” Bucky demands once the door is shut. 

Strange’s face is grim, “There are currently fifteen reporters in the lobby all asking if you’re working and if anyone has a statement they’d like to make.” 

Bucky’s stomach drops, “Fuck.” 

“Yes, fuck indeed. I’ve already made some calls and the police are on their way to clear house. We don’t expect that to last however. HR is willing to give you the rest of this week off, paid, while we sort out protocol for this sort of thing. Amanda will call you tomorrow to talk details once the board meets and decides what we can do to protect both you and our patients. We obviously can’t have reporters milling around every time you work.” 

Bucky doesn’t even know what to say. 

“If you want to go gather your things, Paul in security will escort you out the back away from the reporters.” 

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, because really what else can he do?

Darcy catches up with him as he’s packing up his locker, “They’re sending you home?” she cries, pulling him into a hug.��

Bucky nods numbly, “Rest of the week, yeah. They have to, there’s too much going on right now. It’s paid at least.”  

“Well that’s something.” Darcy concedes. “How are you getting home? It’s a madhouse out there.” 

“Paul’s gonna have me go out the back. I’ll be okay.” 

“Call me if you need me.” she insists, giving him another tight hug. 

Bucky promises he will and then follows the kindly old security guard through the maze of hospital halls and outside. 

The air is bitter cold and Bucky’s thankful for his heavy jacket as he hurries down the mostly empty streets home. Natasha is tapping away on her laptop when he arrives. She does cyber security work and swears she gets most of her work done after midnight anyway. It works out well when he needs help on his overnight shift rotations. 

“What happened?” she demands and slams the lid of her laptop down. 

Bucky shucks off his jacket and joins Natasha on the sofa. “Reporters showed up at the hospital, like a lot of them. Strange was on tonight, thank god, he’s a tough son of a bitch and he wasn’t putting up with crap from anyone. They snuck me out the back while the cops got rid of the reporters.” 

“But what about tomorrow? Is this gonna affect your job?” 

Bucky shrugs, trying to ignore the low level fear humming in his veins over that exact concern. “I honestly don’t know. HR is gonna call me tomorrow once they figure out ‘protocol’ for this. Somehow Strange got them to give me the rest of the week off with pay. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with myself for the next six days.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, surprised and happy for him. “I vote catching up on your Netflix queue and being a lazy ass. You never take a break, Bucky. And you of all people deserve one. Maybe go spend some more time with that gorgeous boyfriend of yours. Some kid-free time, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows until Bucky throws a pillow at her. She ducks easily, laughing. “I’m just saying! It’s been a long time since he-who-shall-not-be-named.” 

Bucky bristles at the mention of his ex. He should have seen Brock for the piece of shit he was, but he’d missed it at first, too wrapped up in the bliss of a new relationship. In the end, Brock’s true colors had come out and Bucky had ended things before it could become even more toxic than they already become. He sighs, pushing the ugly memories away. “It hasn’t been that long. And you’re forgetting Micah from the hospital cafe.” 

“It’s been four years since him. And Micah doesn’t count. That was a year ago and it didn’t go past a lunch date where he, and I quote, kissed you like a St. Bernard.” 

Bucky shudders at the memory. “Okay, so it’s been a while. Maybe I will go see Steve one day while Becca’s at school.” 

“That’s more like it!” Natasha cheers quietly, cautious to not disturb Becca. “So, do you want company or should I scoot and let you get some rest?” 

“I love you for offering but I just wanna crash. If I can get a few hours now I’ll be able to get back on daytime hours easier.” 

“Love you too.” Natasha leans over to hug him before packing up her stuff and heading out. 

It was a crazy day but as Bucky climbs into bed, he’s still resolved that it’s going to be okay again soon. 

Bucky is groggy when his alarm goes off at 7am but it’s better than he would have been if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Becca is thrilled that he’s home and even more so when he tells her that he’ll be home the rest of the week. They make plans over breakfast for things they can do after she gets out of school since they have all the time in the world now. Bucky compromises with one quick park trip, which he cringes thinking about but he’ll just have to pack her inhaler and make sure she takes breaks, two trips to the library, and one night they’ll grab dinner at the neighborhood diner for their kids eat free night. 

The week flies by and Bucky gets the all clear on Thursday to return the following Sunday once the hospital is able to put additional security in place. He’s thankful they’re not just letting him go to avoid all the hassle but several nurses and doctors apparently made their opinions loud and clear that he was worth the additional security measures. Bucky is eternally grateful for his coworkers and makes plans to take in a tray of thank you brownies on his first shift back. 

A second round of good news comes in a few hours later; Steve is back early from his latest mission. They make plans for the following day, unwilling to wait any longer to see one another again. Steve will be, in theory, just hanging around the tower wrapping up some post-mission paperwork from earlier in the week so he’ll be able to take most of the day to show Bucky around the tower and spend time with him. He also offered to take them all to The Met after Becca gets out of school and Bucky said he’ll consider it. It’s a little extravagant, but something about picking her up together and going on an outing tugs at his heartstrings. It’s so perfectly domestic, like a real family would do. Bucky tries to ignore the longing he feels for something he’s never let himself consider before. 

There’s a lone reporter lingering outside his apartment when Bucky heads out to pick up Becca from school. There were a lot the first two days but their numbers dropped off drastically when they realized he really wasn’t all that interesting. “Hey man.” Bucky gives the reporter a little wave. He has to give the guy credit for determination. “Still not going to do anything interesting, sorry.” 

The reporter huffs a laugh, “Ya never know!” 

Bucky laughs in return and heads off, trying to ignore the fact that the man is following him a few steps back. He gives the guy a few more days before he gives up too. Bucky is a single parent with a full time job, he doesn’t have the time to do anything interesting. 

Rounding the corner to Becca’s school he spies the little girl talking to a man in a long beige wool coat. The man is tall and thin with greying hair and wire framed glasses. His appearance screams of wealth in a way that would make him fit right in as a parent of someone at the school, but something is off and Bucky steps up his pace. Becca hasn’t spotted him yet but he hears the man ask “Your daddy is friends with Captain America isn’t he?” 

Becca, all proud smiles, informs him, “He’s my brother, not my daddy. And Captain America is his boyfriend.” 

“Isn’t that nice. Hey, I have something you can give your brother for me, okay? Can you be a big helper? It’s right over here.” Becca looks unsure so the man smiles brightly and takes her hand, leading her down the sidewalk away from the school. A black van pulls up at the end of the block, a door swinging open and the man hurries her along. 

Bucky screams Becca’s name and breaks out into a full run. Icy fear consumes him, driving him to move faster than he ever has before. Please God no, please, don’t let them take my baby girl. 

The reporter realizes what’s going on and sprints right along with Bucky. They collide with the man and Becca at the same time. The reporter tackles the man, pinning him to the ground, leaving Bucky to grab Becca and roll to the ground shielding her in his arms. A teacher runs over with her phone out yelling “The police are on their way!” to them. 

The man writhes underneath the reporter, trying to free himself while looking panickedly at the van. The van door slides shut and then the vehicle flies off with screeching tires. Once it’s out of sight the man lays his head back on the pavement in defeat.

“Just stay put buddy.” the reporter grumbles. 

Now that Becca is safe Bucky is filled with a depth of rage he didn’t even realize he was capable of. Somebody tried to snatch his baby girl right in broad daylight. Bucky checks her over one more time before passing her off to the teacher who’s still holding on the line for 911. 

Bucky stalks over to where the reporter still has the man pinned. His movements are predatory, his voice low, practically a grow, when he demands, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The reporter just stares at the man, also waiting for an answer. 

“I am one of many.”

Bucky shakes his head. God, he just wants to punch this guy in his smug face. “Fine. Who do you work for?” 

“Cut off one head and two more take its place.” 

“I’m getting real sick of riddles and I still got at least two minutes before the cops show. Last time, asshole. Who the fuck do you work for and why do you want my kid?”

“The child, or you, it matters not. Either will get us the captain. We are everywhere. We will come again, and we will succeed. Hail Hydra.” The man crunches down on something and within seconds he’s foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling lifeless back in his head.

Bucky looks to Becca, thankful the teacher is shielding her away from what took place. Ice cold fear runs in his veins. He knew there could potentially be a risk dating Steve, but it was an abstract sort of knowledge. Up until minutes ago he’d thought the only real concern was pesky reporters. Most of which, he has to admit, are actually good people just trying to make a living. A real threat, a fucking terrorist threat, is something he’d never really put much thought into. That name too: Hydra. Everyone knows of the Nazi group who Captain America has been trying to destroy since the 40s. A threat from them is very, very real. 

The cops arrive and start dispersing the crowd that’s formed. It seems like forever until they’ve taken statements from everyone and the body is removed. Becca holds up as well as a four year old can trying to answer the police man’s questions, and Bucky fills in gaps as he can. They take his statement too and let him know they can provide a security detail if he wants. The officer looks sheepish but also recommends he call Steve because Shield and the Avengers can likely provide better security than the NYPD can. Bucky thanks the officer and agrees to call Steve as soon as possible. 

Becca is shaking so hard by the time they head home that Bucky scoops the little girl up to carry her the whole way. Two uniformed officers follow them back and do a full sweep of the apartment just to err on the side of caution. Buck appreciates the security but as he stands in his too quiet apartment he realizes he can’t do this every day. He adopted Becca to give her a better life and now he’s put her in more danger than she ever would have been in being raised by their parents. All because some small part of him still held on to the hope that there was someone out there that he could love and would love him back wholeheartedly and forever. That despite his upbringing, he could have a perfect family of his own one day. Bucky feels painfully childish that his pathetic longing for a partner had almost cost him his sister. 

Ever the responsible parent, Bucky stifles the emotions whirling in his chest and puts on a good front for Becca’s sake. She falls asleep halfway through Frozen II and Bucky doesn’t even bother trying to wake her. He knows there’s no fighting the adrenaline crash she’s feeling. His own crash will be equally brutal when it comes, but for now it’s still nowhere in sight. Bucky is too keyed up, restless and desperately trying to find a solution that keeps all of them safe and happy. He drags a cup of coffee and a blanket out onto the fire escape where he sits to watch the sun drop lower and lower among the roof tops. He’s almost finished his drink when a knock sounds on the door. 

The security detail is supposed to be vetting anyone going near his apartment so the odds are good it’s someone he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from slipping a kitchen knife into his hand on the way to the door. Peering through the peephole Bucky sees red hair, black leather, and a very pissed off Natasha. “Let me in.” she says, it sounds like a warning. 

Bucky opens the door and stands out of the way. It’s not worth arguing with Natasha when she gets like this. 

“You turned off your phone.” She comments without emotion. 

Bucky nods. “I don’t want to deal with it right now.” 

Natasha follows him as he heads to the kitchen to return the knife, seemingly pleased by his caution. “By it, you mean Steve.” 

“Amongst other things.” 

“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need, just name it.” 

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I keep coming to the same answer and I hate it, Nat. I just… I can’t do this to Becs.” Bucky’s voice cracks on the little girl’s name and Natasha wraps her best friend into a tight hug. 

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“I don’t even know how to do what I want to do. I’m sure it’s not nearly as easy as movies make it out to be.”

“Let me help. You and Becca mean the world to me. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out together.” 

Bucky sighs heavily, still leaning on Natasha. “We need to disappear.” 

Natasha goes still, “Are you sure?” 

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. Even if I break up with Steve, Hydra can still use us as leverage. Feelings don’t just disappear... But people can.” 

“Okay. Give me four hours.” Natasha pulls back and starts texting rapidly on a small cell phone Bucky has never seen before. 

“What the fuck, Nat.” 

“Working in cyber security has some perks.” She shrugs. 

“I don’t think it’s normally supposed to have those kinds of perks.” 

“Well, it depends on who you’re keeping secure.” Nastaha’s smile is cheshire. 

“Damn. Okay, then. What do you need me to do?” 

“Stay put. I’d say try to get some sleep but I know you won’t. Pack a duffel bag for each of you. No more than that, I mean it. Think in terms of what you absolutely can’t leave behind, this is not packing for vacation. You can buy basic stupid shit when you get where you’re going. Two outfits and whatever else you can’t leave that fits in two duffels. Got it?” 

“Okay, got it.” 

“Oh, and your phone. You won’t be needing that anymore.” 

Bucky holds the phone out but doesn’t let go. “I have all of Becs’ baby pictures on there.” 

Natasha gives him an understanding smile. “I’ll move them all to an online cloud storage site. You won’t lose a single one.” 

Bucky releases the phone. “Thanks, Nat.” 

Natasha hugs him tightly again. “Four hours. Be ready.” 

And with that Bucky is left alone in his living room in shock. He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Natasha has always been a badass. He used to joke she was really a Russian spy and their friendship was just a cover for her real identity. Bucky now wonders now how close to the truth he might have been. 

Four hours later, down to the minute, Natasha is striding through his door once again, a large envelope tucked under her arm. There’s no warm welcome or pleasantries, Natasha has her game face on and Bucky is still too rattled to try for levity. Spreading the papers out on the coffee table Natasha organizes everything quickly. “Birth certificates, immigration paperwork, social security cards, school records, medical records, a resume with work history and references, and a quick life history fact sheet for both of you.” She places a wallet from her pocket onto the table as well, flipping it open quickly to show him it’s fully filled with cards, cash, and an ID card.

Bucky scans over the documents, unable to believe she had pulled this off so quickly and how real everything looked. “Sebastian Stan?” he asks, nose wrinkling. 

Natasha nods, “Yep, you’re Romanian. You moved here with your daughter Elena when she was two months old. Your wife died in childbirth and so you brought her here to start over.” 

He spies the address on the drivers license. “Rochester? Is that where we’re actually going?” 

“No, of course not. You and your daughter have recently moved to Cape Elizabeth, Maine. That’s where you’re headed. You’ll be happy to know their local urgent care center is looking for a new triage nurse. The pay is pretty good and it’ll be enough to cover rent for the cute little apartment that you just put a down payment on.” Natasha pulls something from her pocket, it’s flesh colored and rolled up tightly. She hands it over with a simple, “Here, you’ll need this too. Don’t want that guy drawing too much attention to you.” 

Bucky stares at the silicone sleeve, realizing it’s a perfect fit for his prosthetic. The details are down to an art, from light arm hairs and tiny freckles. It’s soft enough too that as long as you don’t grasp it very hard, it’ll feel shockingly similar to his right arm. “Damn. You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Of course not. Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Natasha glares at him affectionately.

Bucky chuckles, of course she’s the best at this. She’s been the best at everything since the day they met. “What happens to Bucky and Becca Barnes then?” he’s afraid to ask but he needs to know.

“They got on a flight to Moscow two hours ago. There’s a few nice security officers and cab drivers who will all verify they were sighted leaving the airport about eight hours from now.” 

“That works for the rest of the world, but what happens if Steve goes looking? He has an awful lot of friends in high places.” 

“Steve isn’t going to go looking right now. And even if he did, the alibi will hold up. Trust me.” 

A tiny piece of Bucky’s heart shatters that Steve would just let him go so easily. 

Natasha recognizes the look on his face and quickly adds, “He called you non stop after the news broke. Sent you dozens of texts too. You very nearly had the full force of SHIELD and the Avengers on your doorstep if it wasn’t for Tony Stark.” 

“What happened?” 

“Tony convinced Steve that if you weren’t calling or responding that he was as good as dumped. The rumor mill always hinted their relationship was strained but Tony really is good at kicking Steve when he’s down and Tony played his cards right on this one. Steve has been holed up in his apartment all night, he’s not doing too great.” 

It kills Bucky to know he’s putting Steve through this pain, but he’s firm in his decision. He’d be more disappointed in himself but he’s too tired. Things got tough and he’s doing exactly what he’s been doing since he was a kid to protect himself: he’s running. “How do you even know all this?” Bucky asks, realizing Natasha shouldn’t have this level of detail on the goings on at the tower. 

“I hacked into the security feed at Avengers Tower. Jarivs was a handful but not more than I could handle. Tony Stark is brilliant but he’s also arrogant, and that’s his downfall.” 

“You are, without a doubt, the scariest person I’ve ever met. I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky can’t hold back the tears at the thought of leaving Natasha behind. 

“What do you mean, miss me? You went to college with Natalie Rushman, you’re even Instagram friends. You haven’t seen me in a few years but we still keep in touch regularly.” Natasha brings out yet another little black phone he’s never seen and shows him Natalie’s Instagram account. 

“How many of those little phones do you have tucked up your sleeve?” he teases.

“The world will never know.” she quips in return. “I do need to go though.” she adds in a more serious tone.

Bucky nods, he knew this was coming. He can’t get words past the lump in his throat.

“You have a train to catch in about forty minutes. That one will take you as far as Boston and there’s more tickets from there. Try and get some rest, you’ll be getting into town in Maine around eight in the morning.” 

“I’ve gone longer without sleep pulling doubles at the hospital, this won’t be nearly as bad.” 

Natasha gives him a half hearted smile, “You’re all set then.” 

Bucky pulls her in for one last hug. “I’ll message Natalie when we arrive.” 

“Mmm, yes. Sebastian would definitely snap a pic of his new hometown when he arrives. I’ve heard it’s very Insta-worthy.” Tears shine in Natasha’s eyes but they don’t fall. She swallows thickly. “Be safe.” 

“You too.” Bucky manages to croak out through the overwhelming tide of emotions. He holds her for one last heartbeat before she slips out the door like a ghost. 

Bucky goes through all the documents Natasha left behind and finds a thin red iPhone in the stack. There’s a post-it note stuck on top warning “do not activate until after you are on the second train”. So much for keeping himself occupied while he waits. In the end he spends most of the time pacing around the apartment and double checking his bags. He checks the time again, making sure he’s down to the final few minutes when he finally goes to get a sleeping Becca from her bed. She barely stirs as he carefully slides her into her warm purple jacket and slips socks and shoes on her feet. He slings her over his shoulder and collects the two duffels with his free hand. It’s a little jarring to see tan skin where he’s used to seeing shiny steel but he appreciates that Natasha thought of everything. 

He worries momentarily about the security detail outside his apartment but quickly realizes they’re distracted helping an elderly woman catch her escaped pomeranian who’s barking up a storm. It’s a good diversion, one clearly planned out. Bucky holds on tightly to Becca and all but runs down the hall to the stairwell. He doesn’t slow down until he’s two blocks away and he realizes he really did escape without being sighted. Slowing his pace to a normal New York hustle, he heads towards the train station and to their new lives.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #non winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #parent!bucky #nurse!bucky #becca barnes #kid!becca barnes

[17piesinseptember]

“Is This A Dare?” | Part V + VI

A Zimbits College AU | part I | part II | part III  | part IV

Part V

It's not a long bus ride but without his phone or music it feels that way. Bitty taps his fingers against his lips, remembering leaving his phone number for Jack—a number that goes to a phone he doesn't have anymore and might not get back soon, if ever.

He should have left his email address instead. His personal one, not the uni provided one Jack probably has access to anyway.

Bitty groans aloud and crosses his arms. An email isn’t better. He shouldn’t have left anything. He rests his head against the window, not caring about the countless others who must have done the same before him, adding his own oily marks on the pane.

Stupid, he thinks to himself. What point is leaving contact information anyway. He and Jack aren’t friends and there’s no reason after last night for Jack to stay in contact with Bitty. He did his good deed. Bitty shouldn’t want to ask more from Jack after all that, especially after Jack’s speech about classroom hierarchy and relationships.

Bitty sighs and readjusts his forehead on the glass. It’s incredibly uncomfortable but he holds it for a moment so he can't confess to himself the real reason he gave Jack his number. (There’d been one moment picturing a hopeful vision of him and Jack in some fantastical future and it was so strong he’d turned and written his number of a bit of paper.)

Bitty groans and buries his face in his hands trying to force away his embarrassment. He spends so long with his head in his hands he misses his dorm by two stops and has to retrace his steps. He takes his time because he knows when he makes it to the dorm he'll have to face the reality of his situation. He'll need to replace his key, cancel his cards, hope and pray all his photos have been uploading to the cloud.

Thankfully, they keep the main dorm doors open during the day, so Bitty is able to get into the building and up to his room. His roommate lets him in when he knocks and Bitty feels a sliver of relief that he was in to do so. Bitty grabs fresh clothes from his dresser and his shower kit. He loses track of time as he washes, the hot water soothing some of the tension he's been carrying since last night.

Back in his room, feeling refreshed if not better, Bitty takes inventory. It turns into an incredibly long afternoon, equally as tiring as the other night. Bitty does every bit of tedious organising he can bear, thankful he'd left his laptop behind the other night and can do it all from the privacy of his room, where no one is around to see him swear and cry and punch his pillow in equal parts.

His new student card takes a day to make so he has 24 hours without access to the mess hall. (He says a quick thank you to Jack for his pancakes when he learns that.) He has a few tubs of yoghurt in his mini fridge and half a dozen eggs which he views as literal lifesavers because he hasn't figured out yet how he's going to pay for things without getting a new card or phone.

As Bitty sits on his bed eating a yoghurt, debating whether or not to message his parents, he finds himself looking forward to Monday. He hopes his classes can distract him, starting with his women and food class first thing in the morning. With Jack.

Part VI

Bitty wakes hungry to the tapping of his roommate on his door.

"Thanks," he grumbles, grateful his roommate agreed to be his alarm today until he figures out a better way to do it.

He can't get into the mess hall without his new card, so he grabs yet another yoghurt from the fridge and eats it in his bedroom while he packs a new bag for today, apologising to his mother’s voice in his head reminding him that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

For the first time ever, Bitty is the first one in the lecture theatre. Not even the teacher is there. He opens his laptop and refreshes his email, hoping to see one from student services saying his ID card is ready for collection. There's nothing there.

Bitty opens his notes for the class and surprises himself by becoming bored enough to read over them. Twitter felt wrong on his laptop.

Eventually, students start coming in. Bitty tries to tune out their conversations but it's more interesting than revision. He spends a few minutes scrolling sporadically to keep up appearances while eavesdropping on a conversation about a weekend trip one of the sport teams took. He's so engrossed he misses someone clearing their throat beside him, and it's not until that person leans over and puts their arm along the back of Bitty's chair that he shifts his attention.

Bitty lifts his head to see Jack looking at him. From very close up. This is probably the closest Bitty's ever seen him, closer than sitting beside each other in Jack’s car, and he can't help but notice Jack's eyes are incredibly blue.

"Can I see you after class?" Jack asks, keeping his voice low.

"Uh," Bitty flushes, having to try very consciously not to drop his eyes to Jack's lips. Or his jaw line. Or his shoulders. "Yes. Okay."

Jack's probably not intending his question and posturing to cause Bitty's abdomen to contract but it does anyway.

"Meet me down front after," Jack instructs, then continues down the stairs to his seat in the front row of the lecture theatre.

Jack doesn't look at him again during the lecture at all. Bitty tries not to look at Jack so frequently but can't help it because he keeps thinking about what Jack wants to see him about. He couldn't read enough in Jack's tone to know and doesn't know enough of him to guess. The closest he can manage is that Jack wants to talk to Bitty about him leaving his number. He’s not sure he’s up for sitting through Jack's "I don't date students" speech again.

By the end of the lecture, Bitty's notes are appalling and only fill half a page. Bitty tries to take his time packing up but without his normal bag with its extraneous content, he's done very quickly. He gets up and makes his way against the current of people down to the front where Jack's stacking sheets of paper together into a folder.

"Hi," Bitty announces his presence, sitting in the seat two along from Jack.

"Hey, Eric," Jack greets, closing the folder. "You got home alright yesterday then?"

Bitty nods. "Thanks for the bus money."

Jack smiles, gathering his bag and papers. "There's a class coming in here. Do you mind coming with me to the TA offices?"

"Oh. Ah, sure," Bitty says, standing up again and following Jack out of the lecture hall.

They pass a coffee cart on the way and Jack breaks the silence between them to offer to buy Bitty something.

"Do you want a coffee? Muffin?"

Bitty scoffs reflexivity at the offer of a baked good.

"I take that as a no?" Jack asks.

Bitty clears his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—It's just the muffins aren't—But yes. That's a no. Thanks, though."

Bitty has never been to the TA offices. He assumed Jack would share a room with Professor Atley, but if turns out he’s in a larger communal office area with several desks spread around the walls.

"There's eight of us in here," Jack tells Bitty as he leads him around a large table in the middle of the room toward a desk in the back left corner. Jack sits down at his desk and puts his bag under the table beside a filing cabinet.

"That seat's free." Jack gestures behind Bitty to the neighbouring desk. Bitty wheels the chair over and sits, keeping his bag on his lap so he has something to do with his hands.

There's a meticulously organised bookshelf behind Jack's desk that gives them a small bit of privacy from the other two TAs currently in the room. Jack keeps his voice soft as well when he speaks, though Bitty is beginning to understand that's just how he is.

"Sorry for dragging you here," Jack starts. "I thought it would be better not to do it in front of the class."

Bitty does not like that as an opening sentence. He didn't really think Jack was going to reprimand him again for the contents of his note, but maybe Bitty's life is just that way now. One bad, uncomfortable thing after the other.

Bitty swallows and twists the strap of his bag around his hands. He tries to keep his breathing as even as possible but when he concentrates on doing so, he only seems to achieve the exact opposite.

Jack reaches to the bookshelf and pulls out a tin container covered with Van Gogh prints. Bitty's forehead furrows as he watches Jack pull a small ring of keys out and turn to the filing cabinet beneath his desk. He unlocks the largest draw. Bitty bites his lip.

"I hope you don't mind that I've kept them in here," Jack tells Bitty. "I don't think it's the conventional way this is done but I, er, didn't think about it when they called me."

Jack's back is to him, blocking Bitty's view of what's in the filing cabinet. When he finally spins around, Bitty's eyes drop to his lap and his lips part. "That's…"

"Yours," Jack finishes for him, hands around a brown leather satchel bag. "I checked when I went to collect it."

Bitty presses his lips together and goes back to focusing on his breathing.

"Sorry," Jack apologises. "I should have contacted you first. I actually… Well. I did, but then I realised." Jack pushes a hand through his hair. "You'll have a text from me. I didn't realise until after I sent it how stupid that was."

Bitty shakes his head. "Not stupid."

"I knew I was going to see you this morning, so at that stage I didn't bother emailing."

Bitty's eyes are still on Jack's lap. He reaches out—his hand unsteady—and Jack passes the bag across to him. His bag. The one he lost two nights ago.

"Is it-" Bitty clears his throat. He looks up at Jack, not sure which emotion his face is choosing to display; his weariness, relief, worry, gratitude.

Bitty takes a deep breath. "Is it just the bag?"

"Wallet and phone in there too."

Bitty exhales roughly. All that time wasted on the weekend sorting everything out and he doesn't even care. He's holding his bag.

He flips it open and looks through. Notebooks, pencil case, earphones, lip balm, even the plastic wrapped cookies he'd packed as a snack. He pulls his wallet out and opens it. By some miracle, all his cards are in there, from his credit card to his old library card. There's no cash but he didn't think he'd had any in there anyway.

"I'll go, er, make some tea," Jack says quietly, standing up and edging past Bitty.

"You don't have to," Bitty tells him but he takes too long to voice it, still pulling cards in and out of his wallet, and Jack's long gone.

Bitty's phone is dead but it's definitely his. Beyonce lyrics on the case and the crack on the screen across the bottom right corner. There's a phone charger plugged into the wall at Jack's desk. The connection is wrong for Bitty's phone but he keeps one in his bag which is also still in its usual pocket. He gets it out and switches the cords, hoping Jack won't mind.

Jack's still in the kitchenette so Bitty looks around his desk, waiting for his phone to have enough charge to turn on. The desk itself is mostly empty, with a whiteboard against the side wall filled with notes and print outs of timetables, and a tray filled with essays on the other side. The bookshelf shows more personality, with a few succulents on display among the alphabetically ordered books.

There's two framed photographs on the second top shelf which Bitty stands to get a better look at. He recognises where the first is taken because he was in Jack's house just the other night. Jack isn't in the picture himself, but the TV set up and couches are an exact match. Three men and a woman sit crammed on the couch that faces the TV, all craning their necks to look at the camera. There’s a video game paused on the TV but Bitty can’t tell which. The second photo is Jack and another man—one from the first photo, with the moustache—in graduation robes on the Samwell green, holding diplomas.

"That was my graduation for my undergraduate degree."

Bitty turns. Jack's holding two mugs of tea. Bitty maneuvers around him in the small space between Jack's desk and the bookshelf, sitting back on the spare seat.

"Milk?" Jack guesses, putting one down closer to Bitty and keeping the black tea for himself.

"Thanks, Jack." Bitty pulls the mug closer to him. "You really didn't have to."

"It wasn't a problem." Jack smiles at Bitty. "So was everything there?" Jack asks, nodding to the bag.

"Yes, yes it was." Bitty throws an arm over the bag in his lap and pulls it tighter against his body.

"I'm glad." The way Jack smiles at Bitty makes his heart flip over.

"Me too. I feel like I owe you a million thank yous for getting it,” Bitty tells Jack earnestly. “I mean, it's crazy. Like a miracle. I really didn't think I was going to see it again."

"I didn't do anything," Jack flushes, looking down at his mug and taking a sip.

"You have to have done something. Otherwise this wouldn't be here."

Jack’s fingers shift around his mug. "All I did was leave my number with the police station when I picked you up,” he rushes like it’s no big deal, spinning his chair slightly so he’s not facing Bitty front on. “I knew you didn't have your things. I said if they turned up they should call me."

Bitty watches Jack put his tea on the desk and run his thumb up and down it’s side.

“Well, it was something to me,” Bitty says softly.

Jack lifts his head briefly to look at Bitty. Bitty’s heart does its little flip up and over again.

"Okay then,” Bitty says cheerily, trying to move on from the overly sentimental moment. He doesn’t want to make Jack uncomfortable by pushing any hint of feelings toward him.

“Not a million thank yous,” Bitty continues, sitting up in his chair. “What about one pie?"

Jack blinks. "Oh."

"That's means you're thinking about it, right?” Bitty smiles. He’s missed Jack’s ‘oh’. “Thinking about saying yes?"

Jack shakes his head, spinning his chair back to face Bitty. “I was thinking that I remember the pie you brought in when you bribed your way into the course.”

Bitty flushes at the accusation and the way Jack’s mouth lifts up in one corner like he’s teasing him.

Bitty raises his mug in front of his face, trying to hide his heated cheeks. “I wouldn’t call it bribing,” he says sheepishly.

Jack laughs. “Oh, it didn’t bother me.”

Bitty raises his eyebrows at Jack.

“No, I mean—Obviously bribery isn’t something I’m condoning.” Bitty bites his lip as Jack flusters trying to explain. “I just meant it was a really good pie.”

Bitty nods, trying not to laugh at Jack’s expression.

“That came out wrong,” Jack says, shaking his head.

“So, that’s a yes to a thank you pie?” Bitty asks instead of teasing Jack more about it.

Bitty doesn’t wait for Jack’s ‘yes’, already set on making him one from back when Jack first collected him from the station. “What’s your favourite pie?”

“Oh.”

Bitty can’t help but smile at the sound.

“I’ve never thought about it,” Jack frowns. “I’m sure anything you make will be good.”

Bitty didn’t think his cheeks could get any warmer, but at Jack’s quiet compliment his body proves him wrong. “Okay. A surprise pie then. I promise it’ll be good.”

“I never said yes to the thank you pie,” Jack points out.

Bitty shrugs. “I never said yes to the tea.”

“But tea is much easier to make than a pie.”

Bitty laughs. “Not to me.” His heart flips over again. It seems to have decided he and Jack are teasing each other. Like friends.

[on to Part VII]

#omgcp #zimbits #omgcheckplease #zimbits fic #check please #is this a dare #mine #jack #bittty #i'm almost doubling the word count with this update #enjoy!

[gainerstories]

Muffin Tops: Chapter 1 (Community Story)

Written by: Gainer Stories

Diego felt like a million bucks when his junior year of college came to a close. He passed all his classes with flying colors and only had two more semesters until he was graduated. On top of that, he’d broken up with his clingy boyfriend of six months and had spent all spring working out and focusing on self care. The result was a lean and muscled physique, covered in the body hair he was praying for since high school. Diego felt confident and ready to take on the world.

He began his yearly summer job as a lifeguard at Thick Sands Beach, a local spot with a touristy pier. He enjoyed the long days lounging in the sun and showing off his enviable beach bod. On the way home one evening he decided to stop at the pier to grab a loaf of bread to make sandwiches with. When entered Thick Treats Bakery a thousand delicious smells surrounded him and he immediately decided to ease up on the diet for just one day. As he was browsing a charming face appeared and offered a caramel sample. The man behind the counter had piercing blue eyes and cropped brown hair, with a smile that sent a jolt of electricity through Diego. He gladly accepted the treat, noting the man’s name tag: Hayden.

“This is delicious,” Diego said, “did you make it?”

“All me, most of this is mine actually,” Hayden replied in a flirtatious tone.

“Well I came for a loaf of french bread, but why don’t you recommend me something, Hayden? Your proudest confection.”

“I would go with these peppermint peanut brittle. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

Diego took his advice as well as the loaf of bread and left the shop with a new goal in life: seduce the baker.

Diego worked the beach four days out of the week and he made an effort to stop by the bakery at least one of those days. After a month, the men were on a first name basis and knew a good deal about each other. Diego discovered Hayden was 30, six years his senior, and baking, especially sharing his creations with others, was a life-long passion. Hayden learnt that Diego was studying business and hoped to run his own company someday. Conversation was easy between the two and they both were developing a bit of a crush. The side effect of this was that Diego was developing a bit of a paunch from all the sweet treats Hayden kept giving him.

His six pack disappeared, and his thighs and posterior were filling out his swim trunks more than before, but Diego was still a total hunk. All the girls on the beach would leer and flirt, giggle when he made eye contact, but Diego always had something else on his mind. He fantasized on the beach of evenings spent with Hayden, the aroma of baked goods enveloping them on romantic nights in, Hayden’s soft pink skin and a slight paunch pressed against his own much darker skin. Diego felt himself getting hard as this thought permeated the pleasure centers of his brain. He nervously forced himself to think of something nasty, blood and guts, so as not to be fired and labeled a sex pervert. That was it, he decided, it was time to ask Hayden out.

Once his shift was over, he walked to the corner store and bought two mini bottles of tequila, downed them, and charged into the bakery.

“Welcome back!” Hayden grinned from ear to ear. “I have some bear claws I think will induce sugarcide, but you gotta try ‘em. On the house.”

“I’d love that, and some chocolate truffles too. And hell, let’s do a caramel apple too,” Diego nervously over ordered and let out a chuckle. “You’re ruining my diet you know.”

“I tend to do that,” Hayden grinned. “Hey while you’re here I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanna get a beer or something sometime? We always have great chats is all… would be nice to see ya from the other side of the counter.”

Diego exhaled with relief, “You know, I would love that.”  

#gainer stories #muffin tops #community story #muffintops