#rather than just solving everyone's problems with a snap of a finger

[familyvideostevie]

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

__

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

__

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[hyperifictrashlazi]

" 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 " ˢʰᵘ ʸᵃᵐⁱⁿᵒ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

I have fallen into the Vtuber hole, and I love it here. I stan NijiEN for life now and reading all the Luxiem X Readers in Tumblr got me melting and squealing and punching the air. THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD!

I couldn't help writing this prompt in the end out of pure inspiration, I just - csildbvlainele the possibilities and imagination is ENDLESS.

Anyway, have a sweet School Romance AU with Shubert X Reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Slightly quiet. Incredibly smart. Thoughtfully considerate. Steadily calm. Those were some of the myriad of words that describes Shu Yamino.

And despite being openly friendly, everyone still kind of wonders what exactly is in his mind, finding his constant tranquility as intimidating as it is soothing.

Shu himself doesn't really think of it much, rather he can say that the things in his mind are pretty simple.

Funny Memes. His Family. Things he has to do. His packed lunch for the day. The shenanigans with his friends. Ligma balls.

Yes, they were all definitely pretty simple.

"Uhm, sorry to bother you Shu, but... do you know to solve this one? I think my head's malfunctioning..."

All but You.

Shu immediately smiles softly as he turns your way, feeling his heart slightly melt at the sight of you being shy. "Oh, you do this..." and as always, he reaches out to help you.

Having you in his mind was anything but simple. You were definitely pretty, but simple? Goodness, not at all.

You weren't the smartest, your grades being above average at most and at least average at the subjects you hate.

You weren't the prettiest, rather he thinks you're more on the cuter side of pretty rather than downright beautiful.

But nonetheless, you were the most precious person to him.

The way your voice would hum little catchy tunes or call out his name that he hopes you keep reaching out to him.

The way your hand feels so warm at the simplest touches to the point that he wishes you don't let him go.

The way your eyes always seemed to be brightly gleaming in the most endearing way possible that he couldn't look away.

The way your presence alone assures him with safety and heart sworn promises in a skip of a heartbeat.

You were a constant in his mind, swarming him with overflowing emotions that defies logic at every turn. Despite how easy it is to label his feeling for you as love, it brings so much more complicated thoughts plaguing his head.

As strange as it is, the most complicated thought in Shu Yamino's mind is the thought of his seatmate, (Name) (Last name).

"I see... that's where I got it wrong." You mumbled before smiling up to your seatmate. "Thanks a lot, Shu!" you then chirp.

"It's no problem." Shu replied nonchalantly, watching you refocus to your problem as you solve it correctly this time.

He tried suppressing a smile, why is it that even when you're busy seriously concentrating, he still finds you so adorable?

(Name) who is the Theatre club's best actor.

(Name) who is a talented singer and dancer.

(Name) who is friendly and outgoing in nature.

(Name) (Last name) who is so passionate that the fire within send Shu's heart ablaze on the few times he saw it shine so bright.

"Shu? Are you okay?" You ask, snapping the boy out of his daze. Look at how you were worrying about something so small, he swears that sometimes you might be an angel.

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted." Shu admitted, slightly flustered that he got caught spacing out. Still, he glances his averted gaze back at you.

And with a moment of courage, Shu's fingers gently tucks loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"There you go. It was a bit distracting for the both of us, right?" Shu said, smiling sincerely.

Slightly taken aback by the affectionate action, you touch the side of your head, right behind your ear where the locks of hair were securely tucked into.

"Yes, it was..." you answered before chuckling sweetly at how considerate he is, "Thanks Shu." you gratefully said.

Shu bites his inner cheek, trying to stop a grin but to no avail, a small smile slips into his lips. "Anytime." he ended up saying.

Because you were always in his mind, wistfully thinking of a forever by your side and wondering if you were thinking the same.

Because despite it all, Shu Yamino was a brilliant but simple person.

He was simply a Boy in Love hidden under the brilliance of his subtlety.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

I don't know if I should make a part 2 from the Reader's POV.

Anyway, thanks a lot for Reading!!

#nijisanji en #nijien #luxiem #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino x you #reader insert #x reader

[saltygirafe]

when woe speaks part 1

Wednesday has a new obsession, and its name is Enid Sinclair

I had expected my first real brush with death—one neither at my hand nor my brother’s—to be thrilling. It must be said that feeling all the warmth pool out of my body was a riveting experience I was ready to embrace.

But as I was going cold, before Goody came to my rescue, something felt wrong. I was afraid—who wouldn’t be, even one as much at peace with their own mortality as I am. More than anything, I was afraid to leave the school unprotected, the case forever unclosed. A new fear, among all of the world-changing ones, surprised me.

I could feel my heartbeat. Far from its usual slow pulse—slow enough to trick medical personnel into pronouncing me dead on a whim, it was instead pounding in my bones. What was I missing? There was nothing else I could do. I had failed already, what was the point in rehashing my failure?

Holding onto fears in our last moments is futile. They bring nothing but torment we can never resolve.

I was unable to chase the thoughts away. Not only had I failed myself and everyone, I had failed Enid. Despite our spats and disagreements, she had believed in me more than anyone. Supported me even though I had hurt her—even though I didn’t deserve it. Now I was leaving her behind with all my problems to solve.

I think—I think from that fear burgeoned the unthinkable: yearning. I, Wednesday Addams, found myself yearning for another chance. One more go to save Enid, to prove my worth; to gain my own place in the world.

It was hard to believe how eagerly I jumped at the occasion to evade death a little longer. It remains to be seen if Death will ever forgive me. I do hope this rejection hasn’t burned any bridges for the future. I would hate to find myself living longer than what I had decided, simply because I wanted to protect…friends.

***

Enid’s arms were fragile. They could be snapped with the right amount of tension, or ripped apart with a simple knot tied to a weight, thrown out a window.

Her body could be shredded with blades, trampled by horses, or cracked like an egg dropped on pavement. She might be small enough to survive the iron-maiden I received for my birthday last year, fitting snugly between the spikes—just like I fit in the crook of her neck.

The stench of wet earth mixed with the salt of fresh blood filled my lungs with every breath as I allowed her to hold me. It was the least I could offer, after she’d fought the Hyde to protect me. I allowed it—even going as far as to reciprocate.

Not out of affection, or friendship. No. But she did deserve it, after everything she had been through because of me. My being haunted by the scent of her wet hair, covered in muck and hemoglobin, was unrelated.

***

Ever since that night, I would wake with the scent of rain on my mind. Musky, petrichor scent clinging to my senses even as I was wrenched from my nightmares.

“I would rather start the day impaled,” I told Thing, as his fingers inquisitively tapped on my bedside table. Had he still been in possession of his body, he would have cocked his head to the side—instead the knob of wrist left on him twitched with intrigue.

I didn’t feel like elaborating on my most recent woes, so I simply uncrossed my arms and rose out of bed.

No doubt my parents would soon appear to remind me we were to depart for Nevermore promptly, and I had no interest in enduring their doting longer than necessary. I had been packed for days—not for any particular anticipation of my return to campus, or enthusiasm at the idea of seeing everyone again, it was simply a practicality. To accelerate the process of leaving the manor and spending as little time in a confined space with father and mother—watching them be at each other’s beck and call, filled with overt affection and never ending hormones — had been especially grating to my sanity as of late.

I could wait to return to school, but I would rather not. The faster I was out of the house, the better. Mother had insisted on holding regular sessions to refine my gift as best as possible, but the visions had never been a pleasant process for my psyche—in the torturous way that would render me vulnerable, and not the fun way that would inevitably drive me to psychosis.

Even Enid’s incessant nagging felt like better torture to subject myself to. 

Against all logic and rational thought, I got in the car with a beat to my step worthy of a funeral procession.

“My, Wednesday, you seem in a less sour mood than usual today,” Mother told me, no doubt referring to the way I had sat down without first adjusting my skirt to avoid creasing it.

“Banish the thought,” it was intended as a dismissive statement, but even I had no choice but to notice the lack of any bite in my tone. It only drew a wider, more twisted smile across my mother’s face. What a pain.

As I closed my eyes to ignore my parents overt displays of affection, my skin tightened at the memory of Enid’s spine-breaking hold. She had run to me with such relief I hadn’t the strength to move out of the way. The matted strands of her hair still tickled my nose.

I wiped at the phantom sensation as the car slowed in front of the gates. My chest shrunk over my lungs, giving me hope I was asphyxiating due to a severe allergic reaction to the fall colors, but I quickly realized my hopes were in vain. This was merely the result of my senseless daydreaming, now coming true.

I had missed these grounds, ironically. After all, never had I encountered such diverse dangers until I stepped foot on them. What could this semester have in store for me? I was dying to know.

Perhaps this time, I would witness death in a whole new fashion. I had already dated a psychopathic serial killer, so I could check that off the bucket list, but there were still so many entries left.

I still had to discover a new disease, outsmart a tortured evil genius, and be burned at the stake for sorcery before I turned 20. I could not afford—

“Wednesday!” Enid’s form appeared in my peripheral vision as I disembarked from the family vehicle. 

At once, I was back in her blood soaked arms, the night we defeated Crackstone, taking in the metallic smell coating her body. What a sight it had been—of course it would become a recurring vision. She was perfect, in that moment, and I—

“Wednesday?” She sounded worried, then. I realized I hadn’t acknowledged her presence, or flinched away when she approached with open arms.

She’d stopped on her own before touching me, now concerned by my lethargy. “Enid,” I droned, planting both my feet into the ground and letting go of the door. “It seems there are still shades of pink you hadn’t assaulted my eyes with yet.”

A righteous smile illuminated her features again, curving the pale lines across her left cheek along. “I see you’ve taken good care of your wounds. They’ve barely left a mark. How disappointing.”

Her hand rose to the scars, as if suddenly they’d started hurting again. “Oh these? Yeah…” The smile was gone already.

“Are you embarrassed by them?” She didn’t reply. An uneasiness settled in my stomach at the feeble twitch of her lips as she tried to recover. “Scars are tales carved into flesh,” I assured her, “you should be proud of them.”

“That’s what my mom said too—”

“Plus, you got them protecting” me. Fighting Tyler off me, putting herself in harm’s way to save me even though I hadn’t shown any similar inclination previously, instead putting her and the others in danger myself. “ —your friends. They are proof of your courage, and your loyalty.”

My hand twitched with an instinct to reach over and remove hers from her face. It was imperceptible to the untrained eye, but I had learned to always be aware of every movement of my body, in the case one of my appendages decided to rebel and I had to cut it off before the insubordinate member spread its sentience to others. I knew.

Enid beamed again, this time enveloping me in a tight embrace without leaving me a chance to recoil. I don’t know that I would have, either way.

Instead of her usual overbearing perfume, she smelled of autumn leaves and cemetery grass. Had she buried someone recently? 

I decided not to unearth that body, just yet. It would be a topic for another time. My parents were already unloading the car of my belongings, and I refused to let them imagine for even a second I was anything but neutral about returning to Nevermore.

My eyes found Enid’s prim face following me like a lighthouse every time I looked over. When it was time to walk to our room, she turned to my family before I could.

“I got it from here. They’re being very strict about who we let into the buildings after well—oh, I’m sure you’re not up to anything, but the school, uh”

“We can never be too cautious after what happened, yes.” Mother looked at father with playful eyes. What was she imagining? “Well then, Wednesday, we’ll see you on the crystal ball next weekend.”

“Goodbye, my Wilting Flower. Do your worst.” My father kissed my head, and they were off. Thing climbed up Enid’s shoulder to wave at them.

“Thing! Oh, I can’t wait to show you my new nail kit, I got it for my birthday and—”

Enid picked up one of my bags as she talked, unprompted, and made her way into Ophelia Hall, expecting me to follow.

She seemed to have grown over winter break. Her shoulders were broader, and her hair a little wilder. How many full moons had it been? How many new scars could she hide under makeup and clothing? I found myself more intrigued by her than I had been before, still thinking of the way blood dripped into her eyes as she saw me alive, tears mixing with dirt on her face.

I followed inside, grabbing the rest of my luggage stiffly. Perhaps the first mystery to solve was of my newfound obsession with Enid Sinclair. How quickly could her claws empty a human of its blood? How thrilling. My stalker could wait. If they tried anything I had a werewolf to protect me, after all.

#wednesday #wenclair #wenid #eniday #wednesday addams #netflix wednesday #wlw #fanfiction #fic #i had an idea and it turned into this #this was only supposed to be a short drabble #and now its going to end up being a multi part series #woe is me honestly lol #wednesday is hard to write but fun! #i put it in typewritter text because it felt right #if it's too hard to read lemme know

[weremustelidae]

this is odd but i like thinking about how certain magical powers would work alongside science. I mean, I'm always for going "fuck science" (WITH REGARDS TO FICTIONAL MAGICAL FANTASY) but it's also fun to think about

-since cold is an absense of heat, fire and ice powers are basically the same thing (controlling temperature) except one is adding heat while one is removing it. Same with light vs shadow powers (in fact, you could even take it a step further and say that fire/ice and light/shadow powers are both "controlling energy")

-magically cooling down the air while it's humid could be used to create fog

-healing magic could still require knowledge of how things work, like instead of just casting "un-break bone" you have to know what the bone is supposed to look like and where it's supposed to go (my original world, MagiCarnivora, has this)

#roo makes a post #i think about this mostly bc i'm a nerd and also because #the magic in magicarnivora is such that ways if using it can be developed and improved and refined over long periods of time #rather than just solving everyone's problems with a snap of a finger #and also so that using magic often requires a knowledge of science as well. or at least an ''if i do this then this happens''

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

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You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

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You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

#captain america #dark!steve rogers/reader #dark!steve rogers smut #model!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #this sweater wearing menace #shield throwing daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader

[starlessea]

Move-in Day (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Pt 3/3. Mini-Series Masterlist

Prompt: “If he so much as looks at you again, I’ll put him in the ground.” Requested by anonymous​, numbers #12 and #26 from this post.

Summary: Your ex boyfriend gives you trouble, and your current one sorts it.

Words: 3040

Warnings: Language, Violence, Past toxic relationships.

Usually, you were someone who preferred to solve their own problems. Whether it was stubbornly trying to carry all of your shopping to the car, back when the world was how it had been, or still trying to figure out where you'd misplaced that other sock - almost a week ago now. Even when the issue was a bit more serious, you would rather keep to yourself than ask for help. This time, however, you were left with no choice.

You felt the deputy's eyes on you, and nervously shifted your weight onto the balls of your feet. You were ashamed to ask him such a mundane request. The prison was a luxury in this new world; you had running water, your own room, plenty of food. Yet, you still pushed for that little bit more.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, Rick." You stuttered, and scratched the back of your neck shyly.

The man shook his head, but still wore a soft expression. He placed a hand to your shoulder, and you thought it was his own attempt to try and comfort you.

"Don't say that." He chided, but the look in his eyes remained warm. "We can sort something out for you, no problem."

The way he spoke reminded you of that night you'd eavesdropped on him consoling Daryl. He had that type of manner - one that could instantly make people open up, and trust him completely. You gave the man a smile to show your gratitude, and he squeezed your shoulder once more before removing his hand.

"Thank you." You said quietly. "It means a lot."

The officer hummed in response, but you noticed his gaze flicker above your head.

"I think someone's here to see you." He noted, his lips turning into a teasing grin.

You whipped your head around to see Daryl leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He appeared to be waiting for you, but you hadn't even heard him come in. You thanked Rick a final time before excusing yourself, following the other man out of the room.

It seemed like he'd just come back from the run. He went quite regularly, and it had almost become a tradition for him to find you as soon as he returned. He'd always make some excuse as to why he needed to talk to you, but it was nice just to have the reassurance that he was safe.

As the two of you rounded the corner, out of view, you felt him slip his hand into yours - and you interlocked your fingers together.

"What was tha' about?" He asked, stopping at the end of the hallway.

He leant against the corner where two of the walls connected, and pulled you closer to him so that your chests almost touched. This seemed to be part of your unofficial ritual, too. He always liked to hold you after you'd been apart, and you always let him.

"I asked Rick if I could move to another cell block." You answered, stroking over the back of his knuckles with your thumb.

The man had his other hand around your waist, and he was so close that you noticed the subtle change in his expression instantly.

"Why's tha?" He mumbled.

His eyes were locked onto you, running over your face like he was trying to map every detail there. You tried to reply, but felt unsure of the explanation you should give. Daryl must have noticed the way you bit your lip, or glanced to the side every now and then, and you felt him rub circles over your hip to try and coax an answer from you.

"He's harassing me again." You finally admitted, your voice small and quiet. "Whenever I come back."

It wasn't often that you spent a night in your own cell, but every time you did, you'd find your ex linering about outside of it - like a reminder of what you'd left behind. You even locked the cell door on those nights, shuddering before you fell asleep like you could almost feel his eyes through the walls. Most of the time, he just leered, but sometimes he made remarks that left you feeling itchy.

"Thought it would be better to just put some distance between us." You added, awaiting Daryl's response.

It was just as expected. The man's jaw clenched, and his eyes flickered over your shoulder as though he was looking for someone.

"That bastard." He growled out lowly.

"It's okay." You reassured him, pressing your chest further against his.

You gave him a sweet smile to try and conceal your own worry, but he didn't seem completely convinced.

"Out of sight, out of mind." You told him. "I'll be gone soon."

The two of you stood in that little corner for a few more minutes, secluded from the rest of the prison as you enjoyed each other's company. It was rare that you got to spend a lot of time together during the day - which is why you often crept over to his cell when the night rolled around.

"Why don't ya jus' move into mine?" The man mumbled after a while.

You weren't sure whether you'd heard him right, so you took a small step back in shock.

"What?" You asked dumbly, and the man shook his head.

He suddenly seemed a lot more nervous, possibly out of fear of you rejecting him.

"Well, yer there every other goddamn night." He grumbled.

"Sorry." You whispered back, offering him a sheepish smile.

It was true. Oftentimes, the part of your day you looked forward to the most was slipping into his cell after everyone else had fallen asleep. You’d wait to be able to lie together in an entanglement of limbs, and feel his warm breath over your cheek as he drifted off.

You looked up at the man, but he glanced off to the side shyly.

"Didn't say I minded, did I?" He corrected himself.

Daryl seemed almost as flustered as the night you’d confessed your feelings back to him. His fingers had stopped tracing patterns over your waist, and he could barely meet your eyes when you looked at him.

"Are-" you whispered, before clearing your throat. "Are you sure?"

He certainly looked sure, but you wanted to check. Daryl Dixon was too caring for his own good sometimes, so you wanted to give him the option before he was stuck with you for good.

"Wouldn't ask if I weren't." He replied, more confidently this time.

You couldn't help the grin that spread over your face, and hooked your arms around the man's neck so that you could pull him down to you. Your foreheads were almost touching, and so you pressed your nose against his and smiled against him.

"Okay, then." You said, finally giving him that kiss he seemed to be waiting for. "Guess this is officially moving day."

You felt giddy as you packed your belongings into boxes. There wasn't that much, but Daryl was like a magpie when he went on scavenging runs - collecting any small trinket he thought you might like. After he'd asked you to move in with him, he'd left to go and inform Rick that you wouldn’t be needing another cell. He still had a few things to do, but he'd promised to come and help you carry your things once he was done.

You picked up a small, metal keyring and placed it into the box. It was shaped like a dog, and the tail wagged backwards and forwards if you flicked it. Daryl may have thought it was tacky, but after you'd told him that you liked animals, he'd come back from his trip with it. You laughed at the memory, before turning around to retrieve a pile of clothes.

"Where'd you think you're going?" A voice slurred, but you didn't need to look to know who it was.

He sounded like he'd been drinking. You wondered where he had even gotten the alcohol from - since he was too cowardly to ever tag along on runs himself.

"It's really none of your concern." You snapped back, not even glancing over your shoulder to look at your ex.

You folded a t-shirt in your hands and placed it into the box, but he caught your wrist before you could pick up the next one. You could smell some sort of spirits on his breath even from where he stood, and cursed yourself for not remembering to lock the cell door when you came in.

Finally, you looked in his direction - staring at him in disgust. You hadn't come face to face with the man in almost a week, but the sight of him still made you shudder. It was like whatever you had seen in him at one point, back when you were young and naive and just didn't know any better, had all faded away.

"Don't be like that." He chided, wearing that familiar smirk that never failed to get under your skin.

With his other hand, he tilted your chin up forcefully - so that you looked directly into his narrowed eyes.

"You always were much too pretty for your own good." He muttered to himself, holding your jaw firmly between his fingers.

The words made you feel sick, and you wasted no time in slapping away his hand. The sound rang out and echoed against the walls of the cell, and you saw that ugly scowl plague his face like thunder as soon as you had done it. You knew what followed thunder, so you took a nervous step back in anticipation. You hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of cowering in fear, but you'd done so on instinct - like it was an action well out of your control.

Except, nothing came. No harsh words were spat at you, nor did harsher hands grab you. You let your eyes flicker open carefully, and slowly dropped your arms from in front of your face. Your ex was no longer looking at you. Instead, his eyes were staring straight over your head - resting on the entryway where Daryl was now standing.

You barely had time to react before he stalked into the room, immediately positioning himself between you and your ex. He shot him a glare, before turning around to face you.

"Did he touch you?" Daryl asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

Each of his words came out harsh and gravelly as he said them. You suddenly felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his voice, and the stare that matched - so you looked away.

"Did he fuckin' touch you?" He barked again, even less patient than the last.

His chest heaved, and you decided that it would be best to spare your ex from Daryl's wrath - no matter how much you thought he deserved it.

"No." You choked out, glancing at the other man in the corner of your eye. "He was just leaving."

Your ex scoffed at your warning, but you had more confidence now that Daryl was there to back it up.

"You best quit botherin' her if ya know wha's good for ya." Daryl added lowly, and turned to face the other man as he said it.

Daryl stood slightly taller than your ex, but was more intimidating in a number of ways. Yet, the other man didn't seem to realise it in the slightest - and bit back before Daryl had even finished speaking.

"Listen, man. This isn't anything to do with you." He quipped snarkily, and eyed you where you stood behind Daryl.

You shook your head at him, hoping he'd take the hint.

"Nah." Daryl shot back. "She ain't nothin' to do with you no more."

Your ex left out a laugh, probably due to the liquid courage whichever beer bottle had given him. Sober, he definitely wouldn't have the audacity to meet Daryl's gaze - let alone answer back to him. This time, however, he addressed you as he spoke.

"Oh, I get it." He said with a smirk. "So this is the new guy you're fucking?"

Daryl didn't like that in the slightest, and you heard him growl at the tone your ex used with you. Despite how familiar you were with it, he wasn't.

"Going to move in with him after, what?" He continued, taunting you some more. "Two minutes?"

This time, you were the one to snap.

"Just stop. Get out and let me pack my stuff." You spat, narrowing your eyes at the man who you were once convinced loved you.

He seemed surprised for a moment, and took a step away - like he was physically taken aback that you’d spoken up for yourself.

"No." He countered, once he regained his composure.

Daryl hadn't put a stop to the confrontation yet, but you could practically feel the anger radiate off him where he stood - and knew it wouldn't be long before he did.

"Remind me how long we were dating, again?" Your ex remarked sarcastically. "Only for you to leave me so easily for some scruffy redneck who acts like he owns you?"

You saw red. You pushed past Daryl's shoulder so that you could get into the other man's face. No more would you bite your tongue where he was concerned; especially if he ran his mouth about the person who treated you so much better.

"You fucking hypocrite." You accused, through gritted teeth.

He took a step forward in return, and raised his voice at you in a way you'd almost forgotten.

"Who the hell d'you think you are speaking to me like that?" He yelled, and you could almost taste the alcohol on his breath from how close he was.

"Do you need to be reminded of your place?"

Then, Daryl punched him.

You should have seen it coming, really. Though, in that moment, you'd almost forgotten that the man was even there - so wrapped up in your own anger.

Daryl had stuck him square in the jaw, and your ex stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet. He hit one of the boxes with his elbow, and it spilled to the floor - scattering your neatly folded clothes. Daryl pushed him against the stone wall of your cell, and you heard your ex's back hit it with a thud.

"Daryl-" you called out, but he was too far gone to hear you.

He got up into the other man's face, so close that he barely had to whisper for him to hear what he said.

"Listen 'ere, ya prick." He growled, dangerously low. "You're the one who needs to be reminded of yer place."

He had his forearm pressed up against the man's throat, and you could hear him gasp. Daryl had his back to you, probably trying to shield you from the sight - but you could still hear it perfectly clear.

"She ain't yours." Daryl said. "Hell, she ain't even mine."

Your breath caught at that, but he quickly continued.

"She's no fuckin' object for either of us to own."

Those words stung you deep. Not because you disagreed with them, or because they hurt you in any kind of way - but because they made you realise just how wrongly you'd been viewed by all the men that came before Daryl. And perhaps, how wrongly you'd even been viewing yourself.

"But she did tell ya to leave." He went on, before his voice got quiet. "An' ya ain't gonna like me if you don't."

Daryl finally took his arm away from the other man's throat, and let him drop back to the floor. You watched as your ex pressed his fingers tentatively to the skin there, before looking at you in disbelief. You snorted, wondering whether he actually expected you to back him up like he'd always made you.

"You heard him." You said, ignoring his expression and looking towards the door. "Get out."

For once, the man listened to you. He stumbled out of the cell without even a second glance back. In the seconds to follow, you and Daryl stood in utter silence. He seemed a lot more calm than he had been, but his eyes were still fixed on the doorway in case someone was to appear at it again.

You slipped your hand into his, and only then did he look away. The man had a guilty expression, like he'd expected you to be disappointed at his actions. He was a little skittish, and quickly glanced away like he couldn't quite meet your stare. You lifted your interlocked hands, noticing his knuckles that were already starting to bruise.

Slowly, you brought his hand to your lips, and placed a gentle kiss there. It was tender - enough so to coax Daryl to meet your eyes and notice the warmth behind them.

"Thank you." You whispered, and you truly meant it.

Never before had you had someone fight in your corner. It had always been you trying to defend yourself the best you could - even if that meant appeasing those people who caused you problems. But, now Daryl had given you the confidence to truly stand up for yourself.

"If he so much as looks at you again, I'll put him in the ground." He said back, letting his eyes trail over his hand, which you held against your cheek.

After a few seconds, he pulled away. The man got on his knees and started to collect the strewn clothes from the floor, and you crouched down to help him. It was the simplest gesture, but it reminded you what it was like to be treated as an equal. Despite everything that had gone down, you thought that this moving day was one of the best days you'd ever experienced.

Daryl lifted the box once it was full, and held it under one arm as he walked towards the door.

"C'mon. Let's get ya outta here." He said, and you nodded in return.

A/N Reader wasn't dating Bob lmao, just wanted to use this gif. Also, I’m sorry I didn’t post this last night like I said - I wasn’t in a good place (but I am now!)

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#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfic #twd imagines #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x reader #daryl x oc #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl imagine

[watchmegetobsessed]

Crash Course - Bucky Barnes

a/n: this one? im in LOVE with this fic and im not even ashamed of it. there is just something about the MC helping him get used to living in the new century and im a sucker for it. so please enjoy this fluffy piece!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

masterlist

The time between the morning rush and lunch time is always quiet, the café is almost completely empty, that’s why Bucky prefers to go out during that time, tuck himself away in the corner of the small but cozy place, a black coffee steaming on the wooden table in front of him, his laptop or a book or his phone reserving his attention, whatever he decides to put his energy into that day.

Today has been a rainy day, therefore the morning was a lot quieter than usually, not many likes to make an extra trip for a coffee in the pouring rain, so you’ve been enjoying the calmness, the soft jazz music playing through the speakers as you are putting away the freshly washed cups behind the counter. As if he has an appointment, Bucky walks into the café with a laptop under his arm, his cap hiding part of his face, but you can still see the shy smile on his lips as he closes the door behind him, the little bell chiming for a second time at his arrival.

“Welcome back, the usual?” you ask as he heads to his spot.

“Yes please,” he nods, shooting you a thankful smile.

You try to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the man, it’s almost ridiculous how you still get nervous when you see him, even though he has been showing up every day at the same time for the past about two months. You just can’t help it, there’s just something in those ocean eyes and perfect manner he always treats you with, something you don’t often get these days. Not many take the time to ask about your day or wish you a good one after you hand them their coffee, but Bucky is different. The same question falls from his lips every time you appear at his table with his order.

“How has your day been going?” he asks when you place the cup next to his laptop that’s loading.

“Pretty quiet, the rain keeps people away,” you chuckle, hoping your blush is not as apparent as it feels. “What about yours?”

“Just the same as usual,” he smiles softly and you nod, though you have no idea what’s usual for him. He might be friendly and quite welcoming when he is sitting at the café, he often chats with you about anything and everything, yet still, you know near nothing about him and his life outside of this place. It’s clear he is the kind of person that prefers to keep things to himself, but sometimes you are so desperate for just the smallest crumb of information about him. With the lack of details, you often find yourself making up things about him, like what his favorite dish is, where he likes to shop, what shows he watches on the TV. You might be entirely wrong about all of these, but it’s all you have.

Moving back behind the counter you busy yourself with cleaning it off as Bucky’s attention shifts to the screen in front of him. There are only two more customers in there and they are quite locked away in their own world as well, a college student working on some kind of assignment on her second espresso and an old lady solving Sudoku at the table near the window, sipping on a nice latte.

You can’t help but glance in his direction every now and then as you move the muffins around on the counter. He seems deeply focused, eyebrows knitted together as he is clicking away on the computer. From the looks of it, he is solving some kind of enigma, but when you walk past his table you see that he has an email open on the screen, his cursor moving around kind of aimlessly.

“Not finding the right words?” you ask, stopping to clean the table next to his that was previously occupied by a young couple. His eyes snap up to you before he huffs shaking his head.

“No, I’m just… terribly bad at IT stuff and I’m supposed to “CC” someone on this email,” he explains, using his fingers to air-quote as he glances back at the screen. “But if I’m being honest I don’t even know what it means,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

You find it amusing, even cute that he is like an old man with these stuff. You’ve seen him struggling to type in a text message before on his flip phone that’s from the last century for sure and now this.

Placing the tray of cups down on the table you move over to him, taking the free chair next to him as you reach for the laptop, but you stop before touching it.

“May I…?”

“Go ahead,” he gestures with a nod.

You turn the device towards yourself as you click a few times, bringing up the option to send a copy of the email to another receiver.

“CC means that more people get the same email. You can put their addresses here. But you can also BCC people, in that case, the original receiver won’t see if the email was sent to others as well,” you explain patiently. Bucky tries his best to focus on the screen and what you’re saying, rather than the way your lips are moving and how badly he wants to taste them.

You haven’t been the only one feeling flustered and like a giddy teenager and Bucky didn’t choose this café as his usual spot for nothing. He spotted you the first time he stumbled in and the way you smiled brightly at everyone and the sweet chiming of your laughter made him want to come back the moment he stepped out that day. So he returned the next day and then the next day again… and now he couldn’t even imagine a day without seeing your eyes light up when he walks in while he can only hope you are just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

You help him send his email and you cheer in victory once it’s done and sent.

“See? It’s not as hard as it seems,” you smile at him gently, patting his arm that’s covered by a hoodie and your eyes fall onto his gloved hands on the tabletop.

“Yeah, I just have a lot of catching up to do from the past seven decades,” he mumbles under his breath, though he immediately regrets not keeping his mouth shut.

Your eyes flicker to his hand once again, then up to meet his gaze and he knows he just outed himself. He is expecting the usual: disgust, disappointment, even fear. That’s how most people react when they find out who he really is. But as he stares back at you, scared like a little kitten, you just smile back at him softly.

It’s not that you haven’t heard of the Avengers, because it’s impossible not to know who they are. You were just not expecting one of them to become a regular at your working place. The few times you saw him on TV he had long hair and his face was covered with a mask, so you’re not surprised you didn’t put the picture together. But knowing now who he is, you don’t see him in a worse lighting. If anything, you feel a little sad that he had to go through so much in his extremely long life.

“Well, feel free to ask any more questions. I’m not an IT guy, but I can help you with everyday stuff,” you tell him and he is in awe at your very normal, very sweet reaction. All he can do is nod as you stand from the table and grab the tray you abandoned not long ago, moving back behind the counter.

When you glance up your gaze meets his as he is still staring at you, nervous, a little anxious, but definitely relieved by your smooth reaction to finding out his identity. You shoot him a bright smile before moving to the table of the old lady who asks for another latte and as Bucky follows your frame move across the room he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips.

Your offer doesn’t stay unused. In fact, Bucky shows up at the café the next few days with a handful of questions for you, genuine ones, and a few he already knows the answer to, but wants to hear you explain them anyway. And you help him with anything, sitting at his table whenever you have a few free minutes between customers. He asks you about the internet, social media, online data bases and sources, going through a list from the little notebook he always keeps with himself.

The times spent with him are your favorite part of the day. You always look forward to whatever issue Bucky is going to bring up, fearing that one day he might run out of questions, but that just never comes. And you don’t know it, but your little sessions are the highlights of his days as well, listening to your smooth voice as you explain even the smallest things to him with so much patience, he is convinced you should become a teacher.

He thinks about asking you out every day, the question is always on the tip of his tongue.

What are you doing tonight? Would you want to go out with me? Do you want to grab a bite with me after your shift?

However he just never gets to actually say the words out loud. He is growing impatient with himself, he used to have no problem with asking girls out, but seven decades and another life as a brain-washed assassin later, this task feels way too impossible.

You’ve been telling him to get a smartphone for the past couple of days and though he seemed adamant, one day he shows up with a brand new one, still in the box.

“Oh my God, is that what I think it is?” you tease him with a dramatic gasp. Chuckling to himself he nods as he places the box to the counter while you are making the order of one of the customers. Today has been a little busier than usually, probably because of the special offer of 10% off from the new Cuban coffee beans your boss ordered in.

“I need a teacher to show me the ropes though.”

“Oh, Bucky, I would love to, but today is a bit crowded,” you pout as you put the lid onto the paper cup and hand it over to the customer, another one already walking in, eyeing the offer written on the black board behind you.

He didn’t even think you wouldn’t say yes, it never occurred to him that the timing might not be the best. You see as his smile slowly disappears from his scruffy face and your heart breaks seeing him like this.

“Yeah, sorry. Don’t want to keep you up,” he mumbles feeling defeated, but before he could grab the box from the counter, you put your hand on it, your fingers brushing against his gloved one, the tiny touch making both of you flustered.

“But how about after work?” you suggest and his eyes immediately light up. Spending time with you without any customers interrupting? That sounds like heaven to him.

“Y-you sure? If you have something to do, I—“

“Nothing to do,” you smile at him. You grab a napkin from the counter and a pan from near the cash register, quickly scribbling down your address before handing it over to him. “I’ll be home by seven,” you inform him as he glances down at your handwriting, noting how well it fits your personality. He then looks back at you nodding, as if he was just handed the best Christmas present ever.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles gratefully before stepping away from the counter and letting you work.

 Five minutes after seven, Bucky is standing at your front door with a bag of Chinese food in his hands as he is trying to build up the courage to ring your doorbell. He found out that you live just a few corners away from the café, so he found your address easily.

“Come on, dude. Don’t be such a loser,” he mumbles to himself as he circles his shoulders before finally pushing the button. A short, buzzing sound is heard from the other side of the door and he stares at the 6B sign in front of you as he hears footsteps from inside. A few moments later the door swings open and there you are, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, a bright smile adorning your face as you beam at your guest.

“Come on in!” you gesture for him as he steps into the small apartment. “Tried to clean up a bit, but if I’m being honest I’m starting to grow out this place,” you chuckle as you push a box out of the way. It’s a small studio apartment with everything cramped into one space except the bathroom. You have a double bed pushed up against the wall in the corner, a small sofa with your wardrobe next to it, a TV, a tiny coffee table, a bookshelf and a dresser, a little dining table near the kitchen with three chairs and a pantry right next to the fridge that stands where the hardwood floor changes into checkered tiles. It really is a tiny space that holds a lot of stuff, but all the gadgets and clutter makes it cozy, lived-in, a place that’s so much like you that he feels like he is peeking inside your head as he walks farther inside.

“I brought dinner,” he shyly holds the bag up as you lock the door.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” you smile at him gratefully, because you didn’t really have time to buy anything on your way home since you had to make a quick trip to the post office after your shift, leaving you no spare time before his arrival.

“It’s the least I can do for all the help,” he smiles as you take the bag from him and bring it to the designated living room area of the place. Bucky joins you on the sofa and he thanks all higher powers your place is so small that you only have a loveseat, giving him the chance to sit close to you. Your thigh brushes against his as you hand him a box and make yourself comfortable as well, starting your feast while he asks you about your day, listening to your every word intently.

When the food is gone and you’ve grabbed two beers for the two of you, he pulls out the phone that’s the reason behind his visit. He bought a simple one, not at all one of the latest versions and it’s going to be the perfect model for him to learn the ropes on.

You help him put his SIM card into the new phone and then you set his account up before finally gaining access to the phone. You start with the basic features, showing him how to make a call or send a text before moving onto the different apps and possibilities while he listens to you as if you were talking about rocket science, but in a way, it feels like that for him.

“And here you can switch to the front camera,” you explain as you push the button and suddenly, the two of you come into picture on the screen. “Perfect for taking selfies,” you add with a chuckle.

“Oh, selfies. I’m not too good with those,” he huffs shaking his head.

“Because you probably haven’t found your angle!” you smirk. “Everyone has a good angle.”

“You think so?” you knits his eyebrows together.

“Mhm, look!”

Opening the contacts you go to yours, choosing the option to add a picture that will show up on the screen when you call him, and open the camera to take one instead of choosing from the empty gallery. Holding up the phone you position it so your good angle is in the picture before snapping the photo and saving it as your caller ID.

“See?” you smile at him before handing the device back to him. He just nods, even though he can only think about how all your angles are perfect to him and that now he has a picture of you in his phone. “Let’s take one together!” you beam and moving closer to him you take the phone once again, holding it up in front of you, trying to fit both of you into the frame.

Bucky tries his best to focus on the picture, but he can’t ignore how close you are to him, he can smell your shampoo and your cheek is almost pressed against his as you smile into the camera. The corners of his mouth curl up as his eyes fix at your reflection on the screen before you snap the photo. Opening up the camera roll you take a better look at it and it’s probably your favorite photo that has ever been taken of you. Mostly because he is in it as well, smiling so sweetly.

“It’s a good one,” you say and as you turn your head to the side you realize how close you really are to him.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, definitely aware of just the few inches separating the two of you.

“I-if you had an Instagram I would tell you to post it…” you stutter as your eyes flicker down to his lips, the urge to lean in and kiss him growing with each passing second.

Feeling a little dizzy, one of your hands fall to his lower arm, the one that’s made out of metal and your gaze drops to where you are touching him, a panic filled look flashing through his eyes.

He thinks that this is where the moment is ruined, where you realize the monster he really is and decide you don’t want anything to do with him. He almost starts to apologize for God knows what reason when you reach out and your fingers start to work on the straps of his gloves. It takes a few moments for him to realize what you are doing, and he tries to pull his hand back, but you grab it stopping him from doing it.

“It’s alright,” you smile at him softly, your eyes meeting his as you finish what you started and pull the glove off his hand revealing the metal underneath the leather. Then you move onto his other hand and do the same, dropping the pair of gloves to the floor as you take both his hands in yours, thumbs running across his knuckles, feeling the difference between his own hand and the artificial one.

You see his jaw flexing at the touch and reaching up you cup his cheek in your palm, making him to look you in the eyes. The strong and confident man you see sometimes is gone now, fear and hesitation taking over his expression as your other hand keeps holding his vibranium one.

“I’m sorry,” it falls from his lips as he closes his eyes for a second.

“For what exactly?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t have to hide yourself around me.”

“You don’t find it… scary?”

“Not at all,” you assure him. “You can’t be held accountable for what happened to you. Anyone who thinks differently is just an ignorant asshole,” you add grinning and it finally breaks his fearful expression, planting a smile on his handsome face.

Keeping your hand on his cheek you lean closer, your nose touching his but you stop before your lips could meet, giving him the chance to pull back. But he never does. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours, finally making the fantasy you both have been daydreaming about reality. He starts off slowly, savoring each other gently, getting accustomed to the feeling, but it doesn’t take long before the kiss grows hungrier and your tongues meet in the middle.

Your hands rest at the base of his neck while his find your waist, pulling you closer until you swing a leg over him, sitting on his lap as you smile against his lips. His kisses feel delicate and soft yet very passionate at the same time, you love the dynamic you create, tugging and biting each other playfully, it feels like kissing him is the sole purpose of your life.

When it gets hard for you to breathe you pull back, eyes opening and finding his flushed face as he stares back at you with bright, joyous eyes, his lips slightly swollen, already making you want to go back to where you were just a moment ago.

“Who knew selfies could be so much fun,” he jokes making you laugh, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sound that’s so dear to him.

“I’m glad you liked my crash course on smart phones,” you grin down at him, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Do you have any more questions?”

Smirking his hand, his flesh one, moves up your back as he presses you closer, your lips almost touching his.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” he chuckles before kissing you again eagerly.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky fluff #bucky blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

omg omg i love your writing sm- when you get the chance, could you write something where the reader is insecure about their body and he sort of shows how much he appreciates them and stuff- (in his own pomeranian way of course-) anyways, i hope you have a great day 💕

omg yes this idea is so cute !!! so here’s a lil fic just for u @grumpyghosttt !! was v fun to write so maybe i should write from bakugou’s pov more

tysm for the ask :))

—/—

Bakugou notices.

The way you’ll make yourself small. The way you’ll wrap your hands around your elbows, press your arms down hard against your stomach. Your face always pinches up then. Goes dark like there’s just too much you encased beneath shrinking skin, and that fact alone warrants punishment.

Its the sort of problem he hates the most because its not one he can solve with his fists. Instead he has to spend all his extra minutes brainstorming ideas. Ideas that don’t involve blood or knuckles or teeth. Ideas that are softer, more gentle, gilded in golden words he’ll never be able to say out loud. But still he tries, tries and tries and tries and never gets the feelings out. Just stutters and flusters and can’t console you in the way he wants to.

But one day he’s had enough. He watches you look in the mirror, cross your arms over your stomach and sneer at his most precious thing.

He snaps. All hope for sweet words is thrown out the window entirely, blood thrumming through his veins like electricity.

“Stop this.” He whispers, frustrated, and takes your wrists in his. Pulls and pulls until he unwraps your arms from around your body. Then he’ll place your hands in his hair, over his shoulders, set low on his hips- everywhere and anywhere he can think of provided they’re still on him. “Fuck are ya hidin’ from me for? Hah?”

You’re still not meeting his eyes, and it just warms him more. Has him seeing red and flaring his nostrils as some snarling, barbaric animal in his chest demands that you come to see yourself the way he does.

Your shoulders shift, face dropping just the same, and then you’re slipping out of his hold. Shrugging him off with that same wobbly look on your face and something in him just ignites.

He’s no good with softness, he knows this better than anyone. All he’s ever been is burning up, like a desert caught in it’s worst heatwave, and he hopes you won’t hold it against him. He hopes you won’t clam up again because he’s already reaching for your shoulders once more, pulling until your back meets his chest.

“Stop fuckin’ runnin’ away from me.” His arms are a blatant claim over your body, hands splayed wide to hold all that he can reach. “I know what’s best. Don’t fuckin’ insult somethin’ of mine like that again.”

He spins you to face him. Runs his fingers down your spine and maps the space between each vertebrae as you look up at him. The sun is hitting your face just right, making you squint up at him and suddenly all his touching just feels like blasphemy. Like you’ll always be this golden, holy thing that he has no business touching with his stained fingers. He’d take his hands off you if he could, he swears he would- but he can’t.

All he can ever seem to do is ask for more, and more, and more.

Katsuki is a greedy, greedy man- devil, actually, and he doesn’t even think to apologize when he surges forward to kiss at the bottom of your jaw. Doesn’t even try to help himself as he drags his lips down the column of your throat. Suddenly he’s reaching the dip of your collarbone and he can’t possibly stop there either- not when you’re trembling beneath his fingers like you are.

“God,” He breathes against your skin, and if it sounds like worship that is no mistake. “Can’t ever fuckin’ think about anything else.”

And he hopes you believe it because that’s the only truth he’s comfortable admitting to out loud. The only phrase that feels less like an admission and more like a fact- because you’ve never left his mind since the second he saw you, and Bakugou can’t fathom how everyone else isn’t caught in that same honey trap.

It’s felt like that since the second he first laid his hands on your skin, and no matter how many times he tells himself that you’re too perfect, that you’re too divine and that he should stay away, Bakugou never does. He can’t and he won’t and he’d rather die than allow anyone else to take his place.

So he’ll make you understand. Won’t let you out from under his fingertips until you do.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fic #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #mha fic #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine

[saturnsummer]

oh, how we’ve grown.

prompted by an anon from my ask here! 

notes: this was probably the fic that stumped me on so many occasions, since it was really bittersweet. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! it took me longer than expected and i’m not sure if everyone would be able to catch on how i interpreted the group’s futures and personalities! if anyone would like to know more, do dm me! as always, enjoy and thank you for the support and love!

original prompt: I think Joon Hwi and Sol A was already dating during their 3L (since Sol A looked so comfortable acting flirty and cute aroud Joon Hwi on their way to the old man's trial). Now I wonder what happen with them during time skip and by the ending, what stage of relationship they are in. Can you write a fic or headcanon ab that? Thank you! 🥰

words: 4373 words

it was finally the day of graduation.

joon hwi was beyond excited. he was nostalgic, sad and emotional, for sure. but after crying so many tears yesterday and the past week, he found it useless to cry any further. he lets the adrenaline set in for his new chapter lying ahead.

joon hwi was finally going to be a prosecutor.

his letter came in a few weeks after the bar exam. he counts himself lucky, being one of the students that helped to capture assemblyman ko, solve his uncle's murder, prove his professor's and his own innocence. all in his first year. it was no surprise that when he applied, they immediately wanted him. his grades were just the cherry on top to his stack of achievements. he was certainly overqualified for a guy who just passed the bar.

(well, he did pass the second round judicial exam.)

further than that, he was crowned valedictorian and was tasked to give a speech to his fellow batch mates. he had practiced his speech countless times, and he could recite it in his sleep by now. but he can’t quite place the feeling that he feels. his thoughts are all over and he can’t seem to keep his heart rate constant.

a knock on the door of his now empty dorm room distracts him from his thoughts. there, dressed in similar graduation robes, with long wavy brown hair is kang sol a, or to him, his kang sol. she walks in with a small smile on her face, but her smile fades away to a face of concern after studying his face. her eyes dart to the door, and she strides back to shut the door, giving him and her the privacy that he needs.

"what's troubling you?" she asks gently, taking his hand into hers. a quiet, simple gesture done by sol could soothe him so much. joon hwi is silent, not knowing why he’s so nervous. he’s done speeches and talked to crowds bigger than this. heck, he has testified for court. yet, the knot in his stomach refuses to cease.

“i don’t know… it’s nothing new, yet…” he trails off, avoiding his eyes with his girlfriend. his thoughts race through his head, but it leads back to his uncle, his samchoon, the man that brought him up: seo byungju.

“joon. joon, look at me.” sol brings a hand up to his cheek, gently raising it so it meets her eyes rather than the floor. joon hwi promised he wouldn’t be emotional today, yet he found his eyes glassy when he met sol’s eyes. as a tear slips, her fingers wipe it away gently.

“your uncle… he would be so proud of you to see the boy he raised achieve his dream.” sol says, a voice so quiet and soft, it seems to echo to joon hwi. she always knew what to say and always knew what was troubling him deep down, even if he denied it.

samchoon… are you proud of me?

“i’ll always be supporting you, like how your uncle did. when you’re on stage, if you feel intimidated, just look at my eyes, alright?” sol says, rubbing his cheek. he gives a small smile and nods slowly. taking his hand, sol intertwines it between her fingers, an action that he knows she only does when they are alone. an act so simple, yet his heart was so soothed by then.

joon hwi’s free hand reaches to the back of her head, as he lowers his slightly, so their forehead rest against each other. he breathes her perfume in, the one he bought for her a few months into their relationship, the one that she always wanted but could never buy. he takes slow breathes with her, her thumb rubbing his knuckle gently.

sol pulls away, much to joon hwi’s disappointment. he wanted her skin ship even more, just savouring her touch under his skin. sol notices his disappointment and only gives him a smile.

“they’re waiting for us. come, let’s go.” sol says softly, letting go of his hand after giving him a squeeze. he knows she hates being affectionate in public, even in front of their close friends. he gives her a quick peck on the top of her head before following behind her, walking to the lobby where they were.

“yah, hyung!” bokgi waved with enthusiasm, gathering the attention of the group. joonhwi maintains his composure and lets out a deep breath.

“nervous, hyung?” yebeom asks, his fingers fiddling.

“tch, it’s me. i’ll be fine.” joon hwi replies. it’s a half truth, now that sol is by his side.

“that’s why sol-noona had to find you, right?” bokgi teases, earning a nudge from yeseul. bokgi looks in mocked offence, but he recovers. everyone eyes at sol with prying eyes, the look of teasing on their faces. she takes this moment to shut her eyes, bring her hands up to face and shakes her head while sighing. these kids have literally nothing better to do than to just tease her and joon hwi.

“it’s time. you should go.” jiho says as he nods towards the lecture hall. the ceremony doesn’t start till half an hour later, but being valedictorian, he had preparations to do. they send joon hwi their last words of encouragement, but joon hwi was not going to leave unless he embarrassed his girlfriend a little longer.

his hand reaches up to sol’s hair, sweeping the curls behind her and cutely arranging her fringe the way she likes it. sol blushes as the group ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in front of them. joon hwi knows she hates being so affectionate in front of her friends, but it’s always fun to tease. sol’s bright red and her face forms the smallest pout. joon hwi knows he’s achieved his mission.

“i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink and walks away, hearing the tease from yebeom and sol squeaking back.

when he’s on stage later, giving his speech, the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. but the only thing that changes is that his eyes are fixed on the warm brown eyes of sol. as he addresses his late uncle at the end, he pauses and takes a deep breath. sol looks at him and gives him an encouraging nod. he ends his speech, eyes never once leaving her gaze, as the student body claps for him and he takes a bow.

one by one, the students are told to line up and take their certificates on stage from dean oh. she gives the seven graduates a knowing smile when they step on stage, knowing how much they’ve been through, after being swept up by their problems in their first and second years. even after all that, they managed to graduate with excellent results.

when they gather to take their photos (taken by seungjae, who decided to attend their graduation. it was the least he could do to show his support.), joon hwi swears he sees his uncle standing at the rock by the entrance of the school. he swears he sees the knowing silhouette of the tall man, grey hair and his metal spectacles. but what warms him the most is the smile of seo byung ju’s face and the slight nod.

yes, my boy. i’m so proud of you.

with that, joon hwi lets himself smile as seungjae snaps the camera.

(he doesn’t notice his blurred vision from his tears, but rather blames it on the sun hurting his eyes.)

-----

the group takes individual shots of themselves, even jiho and sol b are smiling when their photos are taken. sol doesn’t lose a chance to tease her roomie about her cute smile, one she only reserved for limited situations.

joon hwi watches as his friends spread out across the field to meet their family, sharing the good news of graduation and their new starting jobs. the smiles on the parent’s faces warms his heart deeply, somehow, even though he’s standing alone.

jiho was going to be a prosecutor with joon hwi in their new office. jiho could care less about joon hwi, but he can’t help but admit that it comforted him knowing a familiar face to be in his office in about two weeks. after all, they did share a room for three years.

sol b, against her mother’s wishes, has decided to take a gap year. her mother initially planned for her to continue her training, securing her route to being a judge. but sol b has had enough of her mother’s toxicity. as they went through therapy as a family, sol b had expressed as best as she could her need to discover what she wants for herself, not what her mother wants for her. what she will be doing in her gap year is still undecided, but she has chosen to move out for the time being.

yeseul was going to be in a firm that mostly did cases of women rights. while she initially was hesitant, bokgi encouraged her to take this opportunity, using her experience and her trial as a voice to the other victims. from time to time, she promised professor kim that she would come back to help at the legal clinic.

bokgi, on the other hand, had finally achieved his dream of being a human rights lawyer. while he was upset that he couldn’t work near yeseul, his spirits were immediately lifted when he heard that yebeom was going to be working just at the building across from him, another big law firm. (it was settled that as much as they went through, the bok-beom duo was never to be separated.)

sol, on the other hand, accepted her first job at attorney park’s firm, ironically. just when she had her first internship, she remembers screaming that she would never work with crooked lawyers like him. sol chose to work with him, as a return of the many favours she owes professor yang, starting with the one from high school. it was the most she could do for her role model.

joon hwi observes as he notices the proud faces of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and spots the few sightings of grandparents. somehow, he can’t help but feel a little lonely. his parents, the two individuals he had a short-lived relationship with had long passed. his uncle, the closest thing he had to a father had too passed. he can’t even guess where his aunts or other distant relatives are. his distant relatives probably don’t remember him, and neither does joon hwi.

a small body crashing into him breaks his flow of thoughts, as he looks down to see who it is. byeol wraps her arms around joon hwi’s waist happily and joon hwi breaks into laughter, realising who it is and lifting her before spinning her. she’s giggling in a mess as joon hwi spots sol’s mother and her walking to them.

“ah, hello, mrs kang.” joon hoi greets with formality. sol’s mother playfully smacks his arm with a smile, clearly embarrassed from such formality.

“ah! how many times have i said to not call me that, joon hwi-ah! at this point, you should just call me halmeoni!” she says, earning a big laugh from joon hwi and sol’s face burning with embarrassment.

“umma! don’t say things like this!” sol squeaks back. joon hwi only smiles and insists to call her ‘mrs kang’. byeol is getting introduced to their friends as bokgi and yebeom play a game of tag with her. sol’s mother stands by sol, her hand on her back and her other rubbing joon hwi’s back.

“joon hwi-ah, i hope you know how proud i am of you. sol has told me your own fair share of troubles. i know... you don’t have much of a mother figure in your life, but as your girlfriend’s mother, i hope you know i treat you like my own.” sol’s mother comments to him, holding both his hands in her warm ones. “more than just tutoring my daughter and helping her, you got through your troubles on your own.” joon hwi can only smile as he suppresses the emotions.

“your parents must be so glad to have such a righteous son.”

joon hwi, for a moment, is reminded of his limited memories with his parents. he doesn't remember much, being so young when they died. but how his mother would teach him the importance of kindness and compassion. his father would teach him to be strong, to stand up for the bullies that picked on the poorer kids in his preschool.

hearing his girlfriend’s mother tell him that, he couldn’t help but just pull her into a warm hug. sol joins in from behind, enveloping them with a warm that joon hwi was unable to explain. burying his face into the older woman’s hair, he lets himself be a child, as she rubs his back and holds him lovingly.

for the first time in his life, he finally experiences the warmth of a mother’s hug.

-----

as the field starts clearing out, the seven graduates and seungjae are left behind. their families have gone home, leaving them on the field, laid down in a circle, heads together. there was just silence, as they breathed in the air of hankuk university once more.

once more, as students.

once more, as graduates.

once more, before they step into their next phase.

“i’ll really miss you guys.” sol says quietly. yeseul, lying next to her, nods, although no one can see.

“we’ll meet up. especially you, seungjae-hyung! don’t be shy to ask for babysitters!” bokgi announces, earning a smile from seungjae. they slowly got up from the grass, dusting off the dirt and making their way back once more to the university lobby.

this was the place where these eight students met, all with different objectives and from all walks of life. yet, as different as they are, they got along and went through hell together, for each other. the short lived three years were filled with so many troubles, yet they pulled through together.

truly, they were more than friends. they were family.

seungjae took his leave first, being the family man he was. yebeom had to rush to a family event, and yeseul was going to catch a meal with bokgi. (yeseul promised bokgi to give him a chance once they graduated, and so she kept her promise.) jiho and solb were silently headed off in the same direction with their only conversation being “i’ll drop you off” by jiho and solb nodding. (joon hwi and sol only eye them, making mental notes to tease their ex-roommates.)

“are you going home?” joon hwi asks as sol grabs her bag. after graduating, sol made the decision to move home for the time being, to pay off her loans and support her family and ease her mother of some financial burden. joon hwi has opted many times to help, even wanting to pay off her loans. he had no loans, and after he sold his uncle’s mansion, he had a huge sum of money along with the inheritance. but sol couldn’t do it, she needed to work for this herself.

“yeah. i promised byeol i’ll help her with her work and catch a movie with her too. it’s been long since i could just spend time with her.” sol says. the lobby was now empty, with a few students walking in and out. sol looks at the lady justice statue, almost reminded of the many times she stared at it to remind herself of why she chose law. why she chose this profession.

together, they walk out, holding hands for the first time openly in their school. they were no longer students, and there was no point hiding from others anymore. she was just kang sol; he was just han joon hwi. no more ‘second round judicial pass’, no more ‘uncle killing nephew’, no more ‘klutz’, no more ‘twin failure’. just them.

joon hwi takes the bus to sol’s home, still in the ground floor apartment by an alley. sol’s mother invites him in, but he quickly declines, saying he needs to run some errands back at his own apartment. well, it wasn’t a lie. he just shifted in and he certainly had to clean and unpack.

when the apartment is packed with law books stacked neatly in his bookcase, the floor dusted and mopped, furniture clean and the fridge stocked with fresh groceries, he picks his phone to find seungjae sending the group their photos. there’s numerous comments on how yebeom is already missing us, and even jiho gives a ‘tch’ as a reply in the chat. he notices an unread text from his professor and opens the chat box.

you’re on my speed dial for cases. don’t ignore me.

joon hwi scoffs. he sets his phone aside as he flops back on his bed, for the first time processing all that has happened.

he can’t wait for the future.

(on his wall, he hangs a childhood photo of him and his uncle. on the frame, it has a tag with his daily reminder to judge fairly, and to make sure no one suffers unjustly.)

-----

the next few years for joonhwi are an adventure. his experience in the prosecution office is busy and stressful, but with jiho working just next door, he finds comfort in having him by his side. he battles many cases, slowly but surely, making a name for himself. instead of being known as the man that solved his uncle’s murder, he was now known as the prosecutor that never loses.

the study group kept in touch, meeting every two weeks for dinner at a barbecue place. somedays, they drank. on others, they just chatted and kept the plates of pork coming. seungjae did his best to join, but with his toddler kid, things were difficult.

seungjae took a year after his hearing to be with his wife, and take care of her during her pregnancy. he then decided to work as a forensic examiner. if he couldn't practice law and help people with it, the least he could was to uphold it and enforce it. his job was new and interesting, but he humbled himself to push through his training. he meets the group when they are dealing with criminal cases and helps them out as best he can.

the study group also took turns meeting his kid, and would always love babysitting. sol, as expected, was the best with chaotic duo bokgi and yebeom. instead of dinners some nights, they met at his house to catch up with him and spoil his kid. (seungjae couldn’t stop it. when the kid was born, he immediately gained 7 new aunts and uncles, ready to spoil and pamper him.)

his relationship with sol grew as well. working such long working days was tough, but they tried their best. sol would sometimes deliver homemade stews to his apartment and joon hwi would deliver jjajamyeon with her extra pickles on some nights. they met on the weekends, where they would just go to the park and take strolls or hole up in joon hwi’s apartment to work on their cases together.

sol was doing exceptionally well as a new attorney, almost successfully appealing to all her clients. her clients love her, not only for winning, but for always being so caring to them. many say she still keeps in contact with some clients, even after the case has been closed. while she thinks it is no big deal, sol’s career was climbing up. her loans were fully paid, and she has begun looking into apartments for her family and her to shift out of. that alley brought too much danger, especially with byeol growing into a teenager and her mother’s joints weakening.

sol b took that gap year to work at an administrative office at a law firm, before deciding to continue her law career to gain experience before moving forward to be a judge. throughout the gap year, she split her time on herself and therapy, as well as on her study group. she found herself wanting to be a judge, not for her mother, but for herself.

jiho and sol b also started dating each other shortly after they graduated, when joon hwi spotted sol b and jiho holding hands when he was leaving his office. they only told the group a few months later. but of course, everyone knew by then. ever since then, they caught sol b and jiho smiling a bit more, even if their smiles were just the slight curl at the corner of the lips.

yebeom was doing well in his law firm, handling mostly small cases, but he was content since he had a fun time handling the many cases and making visits to meet clients instead of being stuck in the office. bokgi was a human rights lawyer, with most of his cases about the discrimination of citizens in any aspect. he fought for the rights of those of different sexual orientations, races and religions and was extremely happy being able to do that.

yeseul was defending women of all walks of life, from their unequal treatment to domestic abuse. she was passionate and has made headlines a few times over the years when she chose to speak out about her story. she was well known in this area, being the first few lawyers to be a victim of domestic abuse and defending them. she also kept in contact with professor kim and made regular visits at the legal clinic.

bokgi and her only started dating a year after the graduated. bokgi respected the reasons and her space and yeseul found herself falling in love with him. after all, he stood by her all this while for the whole three years and have seen her at her worst. more than that, he treated her with respect and loved her equally, even after all that.

one day, as joon hwi and sol spent their day on the sofa at joon hwi’s apartment, joon hwi was nervous to ask this question. sol was busy looking at different apartment listings.

“sol, can i ask you something?” joon hwi asks, grabbing her hand. sol nodded, eyes still focussed on her screen.

“would you... would you want to move in with me?” sol’s hand stops scrolling as the words sink in and she slowly faces her boyfriend.

“i... i don’t know. i mean, byeol and umma will be left alone, right?” sol says, her voice quiet and soft.

“we can live near them. i think the lease of the apartment is ending soon, anyways.” joon squeezes her hand.

“but... i don’t know if i have enough money to get an apartment for them and us. joon, i really want to, i really do. but...” sol’s eyes are uncertain, and joon hwi sees her eyes guilty, almost like she feels bad for saying that.

“we can get the apartment in instalments. you can buy one for your mom and byeol first and we will slowly pay for ours.” he says. placing a finger under her chin, he raises it so her eyes meet hers. “sol, they are going to be alright on their own.”

sol nods her head and reaches up to pull her boyfriend’s face to hers, letting their lips connect. his lips are soft against hers, as she taste the slight coffee taste from his mug. it’s almost frenzy, from what started as a simple kiss lead to a fight for dominance. without knowing, sol is straddling joon hwi, as his hands pull back her long hair.

when they pull away, he feels her hot breath on his face, and her face burning red, embarrassed at how she acted.

“should we get back to looking at apartments?” joon hwi asks, a small smile on his face, ultimately an act of tease to her. she quickly nods and climbs off of him as they look at apartments together. joon hwi gives her a knowing smirk, before sol swats his arm and they resume scrolling.

and it was true, when professor yang had him on speed dial.

he was just about to leave for a coffee and bother jiho for a bit at his office one day, when a call came in from professor yang.

“han joon hwi.”

“professor.”

“you’re needed, now. meet me at hankuk university in thirty minutes.” and the call disengages. it was a habit of his professor’s, to give blunt replies and just cut off without saying goodbye. he slips on his blazer and grabs his briefcase before picking up the call from sol instinctively. so much for listening to orders, even though he wasn’t a student anymore.

“called you too?” he asks once he picks up, scribbling on a post it note, noting his early leave from the office.

“what else? gosh, i really hate it when he hangs up like that.” sol replies, a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“i’ll pick you.” joon hwi says, as he leaves his office, then knocks on jiho’s door. jiho’s head pops up from his laptop, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“no, don’t bother. i’ve already caught the train.” sol replies and joon hwi hears the familiar beeping of train doors. sol knows she’s got to hang up soon, if she doesn’t want to irritate other commenters on the train.

“love you.” he says back. sol’s face is blushing red, but she’s lucky everyone on the train was busy on their phone.

“i love you too.” she whispers before hanging up and storing her phone away in her handbag.

when they meet at the doors of hankuk university each time they are called in for a case, they can’t help but to think of how far they’ve come. sol, the girl with bad grades and on a scholarship. joon hwi, the top student with a hidden secret. yet in a matter of years, they blossomed together with their friends on their routes.

professor yang is by the lady justice statue, and when he looks up to see his students stroll in with authority and confidence, he gives a knowing smile.

shall we start?

#jtbc drama #jtbc law school #jtbc #kang sol a #kang sol b #kang sol a x han joon hwi #han joon hwi #joonsola #solhwi #jeon yeseul #jo ye beom #seo ji ho #min bok gi #yoo seungjae #original by akinosakiya #solhwi by akino #ryu hye young #kim bum #kim beom #law school #netflix #kdrama #korean

[bakugousbussy]

Plus Ultra

BakuDeku w/ Lee! Deku & Ler! Bakugou

Summary: Ever since being enrolled in U.A. Midoriya won’t quit saying “Plus Ultra!” Whether it would be meaningful like when he was giving a pep talk, or stupid like when he was trying to open a jar of pickles. And Bakugou was getting annoyed.

-

It started off as a beautiful day. The sun was slowly starting to peak out from behind the horizon, birds chirping a sweet tune, dew resting on the grass.

Bakugou opened his eyes, it was 630AM, he sat up and took a deep gulp of air. Enjoying the morning’s peace and quiet, sighing happily at the scene. Nothing could ruin his day.

Around 730AM, everyone else started to awake and emerge from their dorm rooms and into the common area. Small talk, morning greetings, and the smell of breakfast filled the air.

“Can you pass me the ketchup please?” Uraraka turned to ask Midoriya, while pointing at the red bottle that was next to him.

“Oh yeah of course!” Deku beamed her a smile as he passed her the bottle.

Uraraka fiddled with the cap for about a minute before sighing out loud, defeated.

“Deku can you open it?” She hands the bottle back to Deku, giving him a small smile and looking down at her food, slightly embarrassed. Imagine being a pro-hero in training and losing to a bottle of ketchup.

Deku notices her visual distress, “Hey, don’t worry! You know what you need to do? Go Plus Ultra! Focus all your strength and try again!” He shot her a wide smile.

Bakugou, who was sitting on the couch at the time, listening to their conversation, just rolls his eyes. “Go pLuS ULtRa!” He mocks, whispering to himself.

“You’re right Deku! Hand the bottle back!” Excitement and determination replaced her previous embarrassed face, as she grabbed the bottle from Deku before struggling a bit with the cap, but finally popping it off.

“Deku I did it!” Uravity exclaims, huge smile plastered on her face.

“Because you did it PLUS ULTRA!”

Deku and Uraraka laugh and continued to finish their breakfast before the school day started.

It was 830AM and the members of the Bakusquad were all seated in the common area impatiently waiting for Kirishima.

“Kirishima hurry up!” Mina sighed, looking at the red head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I forgot about the math worksheet! I have like 5 problems left!” Kirishima responded with a panic, trying to quickly solve the math problems in front of him.

“We’re going to be late for school if you don’t hurry up, then Aizawa sensei is gonna chew us out!” Denki said with a hint of fear laced in his words.

“Tch. Shitty hair, we better not be late because of you.” Bakugou snarled from his position on the couch.

Midoriya sat on the opposite side of the table Kirishima was working on. Deku was engrossed in his hero notebook, writing thoughts, making up strategies, all while mumbling to himself. The green haired boy snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a frustrated sigh coming from Kirishima.

“Kirishima are you okay?” Izuku asked with genuine concern.

“This last problem is hurting my brain!” Kirishima whined, erasing his previous markings and letting out another frustrated sigh when he dropped his pencil from erasing too hard.

“Don’t worry! You know what you need to do? Just make your brain go Plus Ultra!” Midoriya nodded as he gave Kirishima his nonhelpful advice.

The phrase made Bakugou once again roll his eyes. Make your brain go Plus Ultra? How are you even going to do that? That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Nobody with half a brain cell is going to believe they can make their stupid brain go ‘Plus Ultra’. Bakugou thought.

“You’re so right MidoBro!”

Of course Shitty hair is going to eat that crap up. Bakugou finished his thought. Scowl on his face as he scrolled through his phone, angrily listening to the conversation.

“And there, it’s done!” Kirishima sighed in relief as he shoved his now finished math homework into his backpack. “Thank you for encouraging me Midoriya! And thank you brain for going Plus Ultra!” Kirishima happy danced his way over to the Bakusquad. “Alright let’s head to class!”

Time was going by so slow. Bakugou felt like he’s been in the same class forever. When the bell finally rang he jumped with excitement.

Finally, my favorite class. Bakugou thought, a small grin creeping on his face. Gym.

Everyone got changed into their gym clothes and met Aizawa sensei at USJ.

“Okay students, I will be splitting you up into partners and you will have to work together to stay hidden. Me and some of the other teachers are going to try to catch you.” Aizawa stated, monotone.

“Like a game of hide and seek?” Mina asked, excited that training today was more of a game than actual training.

“Correct. The winning team gets a prize.”

Ooh’s and ahh’s filled the air as the students got psyched to play. All wondering what the special prize at the end was. Everyone was determined. It’s gonna be one hell of a game.

Aizawa quickly broke up the chatter. “Listen, partners are:

Aoyama & Ashido

Asui & Hagakure

Iida & Jiro

Kaminari & Koda

Kirishima & Mineta

Ojiro & Sato

Sero & Uraraka

Bakugou & Midoriya

Shoji & Yaoyorozu

Todoroki & Tokoyami”

“Trade partners.” Bakugou asked everyone. No way was he going to be stuck with his childhood friend, turned enemy, turned rival.

“There will be no trading partners.” Aizawa stated, pinching the bridge of his nose in a annoyance. “You have 10 minutes to think of a strategy, you can use the whole training center, there will be a bell that rings after your 10 minutes of planning, when the bell rings, you have approximately 6 minutes before the other teachers and I start hunting. Understood?”

“Yes!” Said all the students unanimously, quickly finding their designated partners and started planning their survival, working together flawlessly.

All except Bakugou and Deku.

“Come on Kacchan I think it would be better to hide in the forest so we can hide in all the trees!” Deku whined at the explosive blonde.

“Tch. No nerd, we’re going to the city.” Bakugou stubbornly argued.

Bickering went back and forth and before they knew it, their 10 minute planning time was up and the bell rang. Everyone started to scatter, running to their chosen areas. Bakugou and Midoriya were too caught up in fighting that they didn’t decide on a place, so they both just ran. No plan, just running.

They ended up in the city area and hid in what seemed to be like a little bomb shelter. It was a little room underground, they had to take some sketchy staircase hidden inside a bar to get there.

Breathing hard, they both looked at each other and nodded, agreeing this was a good place to hide.

As time went by, Deku tried to make conversation with the explosive blonde, but Bakugou just ignored the green haired boy the whole time.

They heard some commotion outside of their hiding spot. Sounds like another team was hiding near us and got caught. Bakugou thought.

15 minutes of hiding passed, and Deku had a huge smile plastered on his face.

“What are you smiling about Deku?” Bakugou asked with annoyance.

“This hiding place is so good! It’s like we’re hiding Plus Ultra!” Deku beamed, hands shaking from all the excitement.

Not that shit again.

“You know what. That’s it.” Bakugou said as he tackled Deku to the floor, both boys landing with a huge thump. “I’m sick of hearing ‘Plus Ultra’ come out of your mouth. Plus Ultra this, Plus Ultra that. I’ll show you Plus Ultra you nerd.” Bakugou pins Deku to the floor and pinning his arms above his head with one hand.

“Kacchan wait!” Midoriya begs, shaking his head while tugging at his hands to try to get Bakugou off, not sure what is going to happen to him.

Bakugou wastes no time as he shoots his free hand into Midoriya’s exposed armpit.

“AHHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAH KAHAHAHACCHAHAHAN!” Midoriya laughs out, surprised.

“Every time you speak all i hear is ‘Plus Ultra,’ so I’m going to take your advice nerd, and tickle you. Plus. Ultra.” Bakugou teases, with emphasis on the last two words, digging in a little harder into the green hairs’ armpit.

“WAHAHAHAHAIT IHIHIHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!” Midoriya squeezes his eyes shut, kicking his legs miserably.

A distant memory floods Bakugou’s mind. It was back in their elementary days. The two boys were in this same position, Deku a giggling mess under Kacchan. They had just finished school, and Deku was in a rather sad mood, and Bakugou cheered him up with tickles. Things were simpler back then, Bakugou thought to himself, a genuine smile forming on his face as he thought of his childhood. He was brought back to reality when he heard a small scream.

“NGA! KAHAHAHAHACCHAHAHAHAN NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” The broccoli headed boy cried out with laughter, trying to buck the blonde off of him.

Bakugou responded with an evil laugh, and released Midoriya’s wrists, and used both of his free hands to dig into Deku’s ribs. Resulting in waves of high pitched shrieks from Deku.

“STAHAHAHAHAP! NAHAHAHAHA! KAHAHAHAHCCHAN HAHAHAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHEHERCY! SOHOHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHONE HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHE!” Midoriya’s eyes started to collect puddles of mirthful tears, as he endured the ticklish torture.

“Tch. Deku, nobody can hear you down here. Guess you’re just gonna have to take it, and go…….?” Bakugou paused, words laced with that teasing tone that Midoriya couldn’t help but blush at. Continuing to assault Deku’s ribs, waiting for an answer.

“PLUHUHUHUHUS UHUHUHUHULTRA HAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHI GEHEHEHEHET IHIHIHIHIT!” Midoriya spat back, shaking his head, hoping the blonde had enough fun tickling the shit outta him.

Bakugou moved his fingers rhythmically, up and down Deku’s ribs, almost like playing a piano, not letting a single rib escape from his tickle attack.

“Oh-hoho, now you’re getting it.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he looked at the scene beneath him. “And now for the best part.” With those words, Bakugou stopped his fingers. And Midoriya’s eyes grew wide.

“No no no Kacchan, you know I can’t take it there.” Midoriya blurted out through gasps of air, tired from the previous attack, but still trying to push the explosive blonde off of him trying to protect himself.

“But what’s that thing you always say?” Bakugou pressed his fingers into his chin creating a thinking pose. “Hmmm, oh yeah! Don’t worry! You know what you need to do?” Bakugou’s hands lowered themselves to each side of Midoriya’s hip bones.

“Go.” Bakugou started to knead softly at Izuku’s hips. Resulting in loud giggles from the boy.

“Plus.” Bakugou added more pressure, circling his fingers on the sensitive bone. Louder laughter exploded from the boy.

“Ultra!” Bakugou dug his fingers into Deku’s hips and Deku lost his shit.

“KAHAHAHAHAA-” Deku couldn’t even finish his attackers name before he fell into silent laughter. His hipbones were the most ticklish and he couldn’t last very long once someone started tickling him there. Since they were younger, Bakugou would always use this little piece of information to his advantage.

The green haired boy’s tears finally fell from his eyes, leaving his cheeks tear stained. Midoriya’s arms flailed and tried to remove the explosive blonde’s hands away from his death spot. Failing of course.

About a minute later, the tickling slowed, until it finally came to a stop. Bakugou’s hands resting on the boy’s hips.

Residual giggles left Deku’s lips, and Bakugou hopped of his waist. Deku sat up, enjoying his freedom. Bakugou’s eyes were fixated on Midoriya. His hair a mess from the attack he just endured, cheeks still a little damp from mirthful tears, sweat building on his forehead. Bakugou mentally awed at the sight.

Midoriya could feel the stares coming from his childhood friend, and turned to face him, eyes meeting with each others. Deku gave Bakugou a smile and Bakugou looked away.

“Tch. Don’t think we’re friends or something, I just wanted you to shut it with that Plus Ultra shit.” Bakugou scoffed, permanent scowl plastered on his face. He knew that was a lie.

Midoriya was just about to reply when they heard loud bells, and an announcement that followed. “2 teams left! Who will be the last to survive?!” Both boys heard Present Mic practically scream out.

The game wasn’t over.

#boku no hero academia #bokunoheroacademia #bnha #my hero academia #myheroacademia #mha #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #midoriya #bakudeku #deku #bakudeku tickle #mha tickle fic #bnha tickle fic

[cinebration]

The Turncloak and the Spy (Cassian Andor x Reader) [One-shot]

Premise: You demand to go on a mission that Cassian objects to.

HAPPY MAY THE FOURTH!

Warnings: blaster fire

Gif Source: guillermodltoro

 “I’ll do it. I’ll go.”

The whole room turned to you. You stood your ground under the onslaught of incredulous gazes, refusing to let yourself falter.

“You can’t.” Cassian’s voice sliced through your confidence. “The risk is too high.”

“I can,” you insisted, avoiding his stare. You focused on Mon Mothma. “I know the layout better than anyone, and I know exactly how to get the files.”

“No, she can’t.”

At last, you met Cassian’s gaze. “Yes. I. Can.”

The crowd around the table shifted uneasily.

“Why do you think she can’t, Cassian?” Mothma asked.

“She’s just my contact. She hasn’t been trained. She shouldn’t even be here!”

“You recruited her, Andor,” another senator pointed out.

“Yes, to provide intelligence, not to run a mission.”

Your hands clenched into fists by your side, concealed by the table. Exhaling heavily through your nose, you returned your attention to Mon Mothma. “Regardless of whom you send on this mission, you need me.”

“She can walk us through it. We don’t—”

Mon Mothma raised a hand, silencing Cassian. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I am the most qualified.”

“Andor raises a point. You have no training,” someone said.

“I have the only training that matters. I’m an Imperial. No one will look at me twice.”

A fraught silence settled over the group. Few had forgotten that you were an Imperial turncloak, a double agent deep enough in their ranks not to garner any suspicion. No one would ever suspect that one of Thrawn’s own had switched sides.

Cassian had merely been the agent they had sent to make contact with you when you had communicated your intentions to defect. He had also been the one to convince you to remain undercover to exploit the system from within. The Alliance had so few agents inside that they had been desperate enough to warily trust you.

“If you betray us…” Senator Jebel began.

You fixed your cold stare on him. “I have had every opportunity to crush your rebellion with one word.” The crowd shifted uneasily. “Yet here you all still stand. Betrayal isn’t on the table.”

“You’re betraying the Empire.”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“All I’m saying is it’s easy to turn cloak again once you’ve done it once.”

“Believe what you will,” you said through gritted teeth. Addressing Mon Mothma once more, you stated crisply, “I will do this alone. This will mitigate any danger to your other agents.”

“If you’re caught, how do we know you won’t sell us out to save yourself?” Jebel cried. A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

“You either trust me or you don’t.”

Jebel pleaded with Mothma. “She’s a creature of Thrawn.”

“And we have been creatures of a corrupt Senate,” Bail Organa countered. His voice silenced the entire room. “I trust her. We have no other choice.”

You nodded curtly and swept from the room without waiting for an official confirmation.

Cassian dogged your heels, intercepted you in an empty corner. “What are you doing?”

“My job.”

“If you get caught—”

“I won’t.”

He hesitated, dark eyes scrutinizing you. You weren’t sure when you had fallen in love with his tragic eyes, but any time you looked at them, you felt your hard exterior form another crack.

That’s why you had to do this. You had to prove to yourself that you were still the hardass, Thrawn’s perfect soldier. No one could see the cracks in your façade. Not even Cassian.

But he did. He grabbed you by the elbow as you tried to turn away, forcing you to stay. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “What is this really about?”

“If one of you walk through those doors, you will get caught, and everyone will know. You told me yourself, they’ll never expect it right under their nose from someone they trust.”

“That was a mistake.”

You blinked in surprise, your brow furrowing. “The great spy Cassian Andor, making a mistake?”

“I have made plenty,” he hissed. The sudden vehemence stilled you. “I won’t let you make this one.”

You pried his fingers from your arm. “You can’t stop me.”

His face hardened.

~~

Straightening your uniform—the white top, black pants of the Imperial Security Bureau—you left your office and took the lift down to the security archives at the base of the building. Few people knew that the archives were housed there, the room cleverly marked as reserved for statistical analysis. Otherwise the Rebels would have tried to hit it earlier.

Striding through the double doors that blocked the entrance, you glanced at the desk where the archivist acted as sentinel.

It was empty.

Alarm coursed through you. Hurrying around the desk, you found the woman sprawled face down on the floor, a bruise forming on her temple. You checked her pulse: steady.

Cursing, you drew the blaster pistol she kept hidden beneath the edge of her desk and keyed shut the double doors behind you. You approached the inner door to the archives slowly, the blaster held down but at the ready in your hands.

A figure hunched over the console, trying to decipher the buttons on the panel. You inched forward and whistled low.

Cassian spun, pistol raised. Seeing you, he dropped the blaster, his face hard. “What are you doing?”

“My job,” you hissed. “Why are you here?”

“I’m getting the intelligence.”

You wanted to strangle him. “You are jeopardizing the whole mission!”

“I couldn’t risk it,” he muttered, turning back to the console.

“In other words, you didn’t trust me,” you snapped. Hip-checking him away from the console, you quickly keyed in the right call information. You jabbed a portable information disk into a slot on the console and began downloading.

You glanced over your shoulder, checking the doors. “You can’t just steal the actual disk itself. That would set off all kinds of alarms.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that?”

“Because it was my mission. I would get it done.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Stop it. I don’t have time for your ego.”

“My ego?”

“Did I stutter?” Your mind raced as the information downloaded, trying to solve the problem of the unconscious archivist. The blaster caught your attention.

Cassian seized your elbow, spinning you to face him. Something unfamiliar clouded his soft features. “This isn’t about my ego.”

“That’s news to me.” You tried to pull away, but his hand tightened on you.

The intensity of his gaze burned. You forced yourself to meet it defiantly, your chin jutting up.

The console beeped: Download complete.

“Take it,” you told him.

He reached over and grabbed it, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned a fraction closer, his breath ghosting over your face. “I couldn’t risk you.”

You snorted. “My cover will be fine as long as you shoot me.”

He frowned, beautiful face creasing. “What? That’s not what I was saying.”

“Take your blaster and shoot me here.” You pointed to your right shoulder, just under the collarbone. “Then run.”

“I can’t.”

You pulled the blaster from his belt and pressed it into his hands, pushing your chest against the barrel. “It’s the only way to explain the archivist. You came in here while I was completing my scheduled job, and you shot me to get the information.”

“I did this so you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“If you had trusted me—”

“I do. I do trust you.”

Frowning, you stared into his face, trying to read the expression there. Swallowing thickly, you repeated, “Shoot me. I’ll be okay.”

A conflicted look passed over his face, but he held the blaster in place as you let go.

Then his lips were on yours, hard and insistent. Startled, you found yourself reacting to him. The kiss burned, as intense as his stare. Cassian clung to you like you were the only thing in the world, danger a million miles away.

When he pulled away, you both were panting. You looked up at him in confusion as he pressed his forehead to yours, breathing your name.

Pain tore through your shoulder, the blaster sounding off. You cried out as Cassian held you tight and eased you to the floor.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead.

Then he was gone.

As you gasped through the pain, giving him a minute before you sounded the alarm, you at last understood now why he hadn’t wanted you to do the mission.

#Cassian Andor x Reader #Cassian Andor #Cassian Andor imagine #Diego Luna x Reader #Diego Luna #Diego Luna imagine #Rogue One #Star Wars #May the Fourth #May the 4th

[avengerscompound]

The Pain in Serendipity - 8

The Pain in Serendipity - A Captain America Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (possible polyamory in future).

Rating: E

Word Count:  1751

Warnings: aftermath of the snap, grief

Synopsis:   When Thanos snaps his fingers it takes your daughter and Steve Rogers’ first love with it.  Together you pick up the pieces, falling in love and building a family together.  Finding serendipity in your shared trauma.When opportunity comes to bring back those who are lost comes with the risk of more loss for you both.  Is it worth taking the risk?

Chapter 8

The news of your engagement to Steve was met with a lot of excitement from the kids and quite a bit from Natasha Romanoff too.  While Steve still had friends around after the half of life turned to dust, most of his close friends had been taken out and the ones that remained he was mostly estranged with.  You didn’t know all the details and you knew he still occasionally saw Rhodey and Bruce, but besides them, it was Natasha that Steve was closest to.  She’d been trying to hold the team together but generally speaking she was alone out at the old Avengers Facility that had been sitting all but vacant since everything had gone down.  The news that Steve was engaged made Natasha light up for the first time in the last two and a half years.

For a few months, you rode that wave of excitement.  You made no firm plans for the wedding, but the initial conversations about it were all full of joy.  You spoke about potential venues and themes - how big it should be - what time of year.  You would talk to the kids about how they might be involved in the wedding, and you talked about how you’d handle the honeymoon given you had children with attachment disorders.

It wasn’t until the third anniversary of the incident that took so many people from you and your newly found family that you crashed from that high.

You sat at the front of the crowd with Ryan, Isabella, and Jacob.  Natasha sat next to Isabella, and beside her Bruce Banner in his new Hulk form.  Steve was on stage with the mayor and James Rhodes, as well as a few other government officials.  Other than that no other Avengers had shown for the unveiling of the monument to lost New Yorkers.  Thor hadn’t been heard from since he returned to new Asgard and no one even knew where Clint Barton was.  Steve had said Tony Stark had been invited, but if that was true, he was a no-show.

Similar monuments were going up in major cities around the country and the world, though the timing of them often depended on how hard it had been to sort through the names to find the official count.

Steve stepped up to the microphone.  “Three years ago our world and many others were changed forever.  A madman with the power to change the makeup of life itself decided that rather than create peace or unlimited resources that would be handed out equally to everyone, rather than eradicating disease and suffering, or to solve the problems words have with pollution, he’d eliminate half the life that existed.  Not just here.  Everywhere.  It was a choice that not only made no difference to any of these issues but created a collective shared trauma in all that was left behind.

“I tried to stop him.  My friends tried to stop him.  Trying to find it in my heart to forgive myself for failing you all has been something I’ve been struggling to do…”

Steve paused and took a deep breath as he looked down at the podium.  “We have all lost people.  Not just one or two people, but hundreds.  Or friends.  Our family.  Mothers.  Fathers.  Children.  Husbands.  Wives.  Close friends.  It was indiscriminate and the fallout has scarred us.  We all share in this trauma and I’m not sure any of us know what to do now.  Expect to try and be kind and share the burden of this tragedy. 

“Today we come together to remember those people we loved and lost and grieve for them together.  Each person’s name is etched on the stones that stand behind me.  A monument to those that we loved that were taken from us for no reason other than a madman clicked his fingers.  I ask us all to take a minute of silence in remembering them all now.”

You lowered your head and thought about Alice.  Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered your little girl and thought about how you would never see her grow up and how much you missed her.

When the minute was up Steve thanked everyone and left the stage.  The mayor talked for a while and when he finished, you took the kids to find the names of their parents.  You had just tracked down Ryan’s parents when Steve found you.

“They’d be proud of you, Ry,” Steve said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulders.  “I know I am.”

“I still miss them,” Ryan said, as he stuck a small flower beside their names with a piece of double-sided tape.

“Of course you do,” you said.  “That’s normal, sweetheart.  Look at all these people here, looking for the names of the people they miss.”

Ryan broke down into tears and turned around and hugged you, burying his face in your neck.  For the entire three years you’d known him he’d never broken like this in front of you.  It shocked you, but even as you held him and rubbed his back and cried your own tears of grief, you felt like this was a good thing.  Another step forward in your son’s healing.

When he pulled apart and wiped his eyes, Steve rubbed your back.  “Have you found Alice yet?” he asked.

“No, we did Callie for Jacob and then Isabella’s parents, and then we came here,” you said.

“Let’s try and find her,” Steve said.

You made your way down the aisles keeping your eye on the last names.  Alice’s name was close to the ground on the side of one of the big stone pillars facing the bay.  You crouched down and traced the A with your index finger.  Jacob came over and wrapped his arms around your neck.  “You and Alice would have been good friends, J.J.,” you said.  “I used to take care of you when your mommy was at work and Alice would play games with you.  She used to make you laugh.  You thought she was amazing.”

“She be with mommy,” Jacob said, patting your shoulder.

“Yeah, I bet they’re looking after each other,” you said.

“Yeah.  Wike you wook after me,” Jacob agreed and kissed your cheek.  “Wove you, mommy.”

“I love you too,” you said and cuddled him.

Isabella wrapped her arms around you too and snuggled into you.  “I love you too, mommy,” she whispered.

Tears pricked your eyes.  “I love you, Bella.”

Steve put his hand on your shoulder and Ryan kneeled and stuck an orchid to the stone next to Alice’s name.

When you were ready to move on, you got up and wordlessly your group moved on, following Steve as he went searching for the names he wanted to find.  As you walked through the pillars, you found Natasha with her hand pressed to one of them.  Steve approached her and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Why won’t he come home?” she said.

Steve shook his head.  “I wish I knew.”

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  When she opened her eyes again it was like nothing was wrong.  “Hey kids, do you want to go with me to get some ice cream?”

“Ice cream!”  Jacob shouted as Ryan looked back at you with his brow furrowed.

“Nat,” Steve said gently.  “It’s okay to be…”

“I can’t…” she said, shaking her head.  “Hey, it’s okay.  I’ll just take them over there and you can - well you know…”

“Natasha…”

“I’m okay, Steve,” she said.  “I’m always okay.  Come on, guys.”

Jacob and Isabella ran over to her and took Natasha’s hands while Ryan looked back at you.  “Uh..?” he said.

“It’s okay.  Go with Nat.  We’ll meet you over there,” you said.

He nodded and followed Natasha out of the memorial where some food carts were set up.  “What was that about?” you asked.

Steve tapped a series of names.  “That’s Clint’s family,” he said.  “I think the fact she not only lost them, but he just went rogue -” he shook his head.  “It’s messy.  They were her family too.  You know?  And she wants to be there for Clint but he’s just pushed everyone away.”

You wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him.  “It’s a rough day, huh?”

“At least we aren’t all alone for it,” he said and pressed his lips to your temple.

The two of you moved down a little and Steve began scanning the wall.  When he found the name he was looking for he ran his thumb over it and taped an orchid beside it.  “I never thought I’d get married without Bucky there.  Even when I imagined myself marrying someone else, he was always standing beside me.”

You frowned and leaned into his side.  “We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to,” you said.  “You know I was okay with just how we are.  I don’t need the paper to know you’re committed to me.”

“No,” he said.  “Sweetheart, I want this.  I can’t keep delaying my own life.  I used to do it because I thought I had this gift and if I didn’t use it I was as bad as the bad guys.  I can’t just replace that by putting things off because they aren’t how I imagined them.�� I love you and I love what we have.  I want to make it official.”

You leaned up and kissed him tenderly.  He hummed softly into your lips and caressed his thumb along your jaw.  “I love you so much, you know?” you said as you pulled back.

“I love you too,” he said.  “I want to say Bucky would love you as well, but most likely he’d have been a little jealous if he knew I was seeing you.”

You laughed and snuggled into him.  “Well, I wouldn’t have been trying to turn your head if he was around,” you teased.

“Is that what you did?” he chuckled.  “Did you use your feminine wiles on me?”

You broke down into giggles.  “Something like that.”

He kissed you again, pulling you up against him.  “I can’t wait to marry you, my love,” he said.  “And I’ll have Ryan as my best man, and I’m so happy about that too.  This is what I want.”

“Good,” you said.  “Shall we go find the kids then?  Maybe we can take Nat out for lunch.”

“That’s a really good idea,” he agreed.  “No one should be alone today.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #the pain in serendipity

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Stressed to Kill (one-shot)

Regulus Black au 

Request:  I am OBSESSED with all the Regulus content. It is amazing. I was wondering if you could do a reader x regulus where the reader is having a bad day from the stress of the exams and he cuddles them to sleep. again love your writing. :) 

@wolfstar4lifee- I hope you enjoy this, love 

Rating: T 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

________________________

“Regulus, we have a problem.”

Regulus looked up at Evan’s comment. When Evan said that there was a problem it usually went one of three ways…

1. There was a problem and Evan needed help deciding whose ass to kick first. 2. Evan was just being the over-dramatic person that he was and was only being mildly inconvenienced by something. 3. There actually was a problem and for whatever reason Regulus had to solve it. Closing his book, Regulus leaned back in his seat and observed his friend’s face closely for any clues. Evan honestly looked bothered by something.

Number 3, it is.

Regulus thought before speaking.

“What’s wrong?’

Evan motioned to the stairs.

“I just came from the common room and Y/n is having a hell of a day. Has she talked to you about it?”

Regulus shook his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen you all morning. He had been practicing quidditch for the tournament most of the day. Normally, he had every morning and afternoon with you until practice but today was different.

“No, what’s going on?”

Regulus questioned automatically worried. There wasn’t much that typically phased you. You were that unshakable wall of steel that Regulus had come to love so much.

“Well, she kind of slipped on a Gryffindor during potions then stormed out leaving Slughorn looking totally baffled. After I went back to the common room, she had taken over three tables and spread all of her notes from each class in a freakishly color-coded system. I was being adorable and she threatened to cut my hand off if I touched them.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He knew that you were beginning to worry about exams. Hell, everyone was worried about exams but you possibly more than most people. The Rosiers put a lot of “high” expectations on their children when it came to grades. You exceeded your parent's expectations with flying colors. They expected good grades from Evan but only half of the time got them.

“That sounds like your sister. It's getting late. I’ll go talk to her, you cowering wimp.”

Evan sat down with a thankful smile on his face.

“I owe you so much.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and headed down to the dungeons. He was beginning to wonder why you weren’t at dinner. Now he had his answer

Stepping into the Slytherin common room, Regulus was surprised to see that Evan wasn’t over-exaggerating like normal. You stood looking over what had to be three tables worth of notes with an exasperated expression on your pretty face.

Raising an eyebrow, Regulus walked over to join you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even seem to notice your boyfriend’s presence. Regulus blinked a few times before looking down at the parchment in front of him. All of the notes were color-coded by class, semester, lesson, and date.

“Sugar, how long have you been awake?”

Regulus asked, softly. You finally looked up, clearly surprised to see Regulus.

“Reg, hi. Sorry but no time. I need answers.”

You had been obsessing over exams for weeks now...well maybe obsessing since the day before yesterday. As the exam day came closer, you began to worry even more. The last thing that you wanted was to fail an exam or make less than exceeds expectations. Your mother and father would expect this out of you.

Regulus sighed.

“No, you need sleep. I’ve seen you like this before.”

“Regulus is right, Y/n. This is just like the time in 5th year when you were going bananas over the OWLS.”

Both Regulus and yourself turned to see Evan standing by the couch with a huge cheesy smile on his face.

“Guys, I don’t need sleep. I need answers.”

Regulus gave Evan a look before stepping closer to you.

“Sweetheart, how about this, let's go up to my bed and have a little nap. When we wake up, I’ll come down here and help you go through all of this.”

“While you two are taking a nap, I can go through all of this for a headstart.”

Evan offered. You immediately shook your head. The last thing that you wanted was your brother to go through ANY of your schoolwork. You would come back down to a hellish disaster that you would never be able to fix.

“I would rather the giant squid do it.”

You snapped in Evan’s direction. Evan looked highly offended as Regulus shook his head mouthing

“Mate, stop.”

Eva blinked a few times before sitting down on the couch.

“Fine, I’ll just guard the table.”

Regulus turned his attention back to you with a smile. He traced a finger over your cheek, earning a small sigh. Regulus knew that he had you exactly where he wanted.

“Come on, sugar.”

You didn’t fight Regulus this time. He interlocked your hand with his as he led you to the boy dormitory. Regulus was right, as usual. You were exhausted and the prospect of falling asleep in Regulus’ arm was a great opportunity.

Regulus tugged his jumper over his head before lying down and holding out his arms.

“Come here, darlin.”

You shrugged your robe off and stepped out of your shoes before crawling into bed beside Regulus. Since you had begun dating Regulus, you had been spending a lot of time locked in Regulus’ bed with the curtains closed. Evan had even suggested making a “keep out” sign so people would think that the two of you were forming some secret club and not having sex.

You wasted no time in snuggling against Regulus’ chest. He pulled the blanket up and snugged his face against the top of your head.

“Mum said you can stay over the summer if you want.”

Regulus said with a yawn. He had obviously not noticed how exhausted he was too. You would have sat up and looked at him surprised but you didn’t want to move from your cocoon.

“Yeah?”

You questioned. Regulus had been on a kick about you staying at Grimmauld Place over the summer. Neither of you really wanted to face the idea of a summer apart and apparently, Walburga was taking sympathy upon you.

“Yeah, I suppose she assumes that we are going to get married after next school year anyway. She probably wants to see if we can live together over the summer without killing each other.”

“Lucky for us, we have never had an argument.”

You said, yawning. Regulus had to agree there. While other couples that the two of you knew were fighting with each other, Regulus and yourself calmly talked about problems. You were supportive of what he was doing with becoming a death eater. The two of you knew it was, for the most part, expected. You were that soft comforting place for Regulus to look forward to getting back to.

“Well, we are going to live happily ever after.”

Regulus commented. He knew the comment was lame and his brain was internally throwing up about that even coming out of his mouth. Just when had he become so mushy over a girl?

“Just accept it. She has you whipped.”

Regulus thought with a smile.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

You replied, clearly about to doze off. Regulus leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, prince charming.”

You muttered, feeling for the first time that day, at peace. You didn’t care about the exams, your parent's expectations, your older brother who was now moving your notes, or anything else. The only thing that you cared about was snuggling closer to Regulus and getting some well-deserved sleep.

__________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @mellifluous-cosmos @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @georgeweasleydumbhoe @jessyballet @knreidy1 @quuenofblacks @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @harrysnosebleed @dumybitch @zievyimas @hazncalsgal @rubyroscoe1 @wolfstar4lifee @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @siriuslyceleste @acciosiriusblack @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @marichromatic @untoldshortsofthefandoms @siriuslyceleste @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner

#regulus black #Regulus Black x Reader #Evan Rosier #request fic #mutual request #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #hp #hp reader insert #regulus arcturus black #timothee chalamet as regulus black #dane dehaan as Evan Rosier #the ancient and noble house of black #the rosier family #regulus black fics #Stressed to Kill #oneshot #update

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Death Does Not Discriminate Between The Sinners And The Saints

It Takes And It Takes And It Takes

Part 2

Tony Stark x Male Demon Reader

Word Count: 3609

@charliedakotariley I hope this is all you wanted in your original request. Sorry I took so long to get to the actual stuff you put in your request. I hope you enjoy this!

-----------

Y/n didn't know what was going on. One moment he had been fighting Thanos's forces in Wakanda, the next, everything was getting weird. Enemies were turning to dust all around him. Worse than that, so were some of his allies.

It was bad enough that he had been separated from Tony, but now he wasn't sure if he would ever see him again. Who ever had done this was going to regret it if Tony was dead.

Y/n took a step, but before his foot even connected with the ground he was gone.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in the fields outside the city, alongside all the others. Everyone was pretty much in panic mode until a man with a deep red cloak started floating and took control.

Apparently they had been gone for five years, but more than that, there was an even bigger battle ahead of them than the one that they had just been in.

The floating guy did some odd form of magic that opened up a portal into another place. Y/n knew that then was not the time, but he felt himself go all giddy at the thought of real magic! Maybe after all this he could learn some!

The floating guy had introduced himself at some point, Y/n was sure, but he hadn't caught it and now didn't really seem like the time, so he just mentally dubbed him 'Floating Man' and moved on.

Then they were all rushing into battle, and Floating Man was not wrong. It was brutal, but Y/n couldn't help but feel he was in the wrong place. There was somewhere he needed to be, a tug inside that was pulling almost to the point of pain.

Y/n growled and dropped his perception filter, it was just draining him and he had more important things to worry about. He used the pause in onslaught to do a spin that sent a large swathe of enemies flying. Thank God for his tail, he had missed being able to give his all in battle.

In the space he had just given himself, he spun slower, looking for where it was he needed to go.

Y/n knew immediately exactly where he was meant to be. Tony was about to tackle Thanos.

Y/n smashed his tail as hard as he could into the ground and using the momentum of the shockwave caused by it, he leapt over the battlefield.

His eyes widened in horror as he watched Tony sass the mad titan. He had those damned infinity stones just about in place on his Iron Man glove. He would die if he tried to use them!

Y/n slammed into Tony at full force and wrapped himself around the stupid self-sacrificing genius just as he snapped his fingers. The energy coursed through the two beings and Y/n could feel it trying to overcome them. He knew there was a price for holding such power, but he wasn't about to let Tony pay it on his own.

He held on tighter and let out a roar, forcing himself to hold on and not be torn apart by the power of the stones.

"Don't you dare give up on me Tony! We'll go out of this world together or not at all, do you understand me?"

And then it was over. Thanos's armies were defeated, turned to dust, as was the mad titan himself.

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

It had been five years since the Avengers had managed to bring everyone back and Y/n still couldn't believe how lucky he had been. If he had been even just a second later in getting to Tony, he might not have made it.

As it was his heart had taken some serious damage, and Y/n hadn't come out of it scot-free either. He had aged noticeably.

Where he had looked near his mid twenties for centuries, he now looked to be closer to forty than thirty, but he would never consider the alternative. What were a few hundred years to him when he would get to wake up in Tony's arms because of his actions.

But he could no longer ignore the thing that had been bothering him for the last ten or so years. Tony was getting older. And, ignoring magical space stones and stupid ideas, Y/n was not.

Every morning Y/n could see more differences. Tony was aging, and normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, after all, it means that he's alive to have the chance to age, but it was becoming more apparent as the days passed, and Y/n couldn't help but realise that one day in the not so distant future he was going to be without Tony once again. Forever this time.

Everyday as he noticed the changes in Tony, Y/n became a little quieter, a little more withdrawn. He didn't want to waste the time he had left with Tony, but the spectre of death was looming ever nearer, and this time there was no other realm to break into to solve the problem.

Y/n had felt a momentary surge of hope when he remembered the gift the Queen of Asgard had promised him, but that was extinguished when he remembered what had happened to Asgard.

The sinking in his chest was getting worse. There was a pain that was consistent, a deep thrum inside that wouldn't go away. Whenever he thought about the future, or Tony dying it came back. He could sometimes forget about what was coming, but he would inevitably be reminded and the pain would resurface.

Y/n thought fleetingly of his more carefree days, when all he wanted was to cause as much chaos as he could, and he could just swan away from it without a backward glance. Tony had made him so much more than that, without even trying. He had made him feel things and there wasn't a day that went by when Y/n could bring himself to regret meeting Tony.

But that sweet joy and love was now soured by the passage of time, and Y/n wasn't sure how much more he could take.

How could the mix of love and time bring so much pain and joy. Why could he not just have the joy, why did the pain have to come with it?

Y/n was standing in their kitchen when it happened. He was hit with a wave of pain so deep he buckled at the feeling. He had just taken another message from Tony's doctor about not putting too much strain on his heart, and he couldn't help the hopeless feeling washing over him.

He could feel time slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to slow it down.

His heart gave a particularly hard thump as his emotions got the better of him.

Y/n felt a searing pain starting in his chest that was physical rather than the almost unbearable emotional pain he had been dealing with. He gasped as tears dripped down his face. He only noticed when a hissing noise came from the ground by his feet, that the tears weren't the normal salty water, but actual lava.

It clicked suddenly, what was happening to him, but Y/n couldn't think through the fugue of his feelings. He had heard of it in stories but never seen it in person. Demons don't normally fall in love, so they aren't affected by things like the deep depression of watching someone you love die when there isn't anything you can do.

The thing is, demon's hearts are literally made of super heated volcanic rock. Demons were never made to deal with such strong emotions, so when a demons heart breaks, it happens literally. Lava erupts from anywhere it can force it's way out, then it starts to break down the rest of the body. As far as the stories are concerned, there might be a way to save them before they have broken down entirely, but no-one had managed it yet.

The stories hadn't prepared Y/n for the pain, but after so long only feeling hopelessness and despair, Y/n welcomed this new pain. Finally, something had come to save him from the eternity that was a future without Tony.

He could feel the lava in the burnt out husk that used to be his heart flare brighter as another wave of heat seared through him. The lava was actually burning away the blood that had been running through his veins.

Y/n had to get out of there. He couldn't do anything about the trails of melted stone that his tears were leaving behind, but he couldn't let Tony see this.

He would be with him again in their next life.

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

Tony was starting to worry. He had been sticking a bit closer to Y/n lately because he had noticed the other man acting strangely. He seemed more and more sad as the days went by. This was something that Tony had needed to keep an eye on. He didn't want to lose Y/n to something that he could help to fix.

He hadn't thought much of it when the other man had rushed out of the room to grab the phone when it rang that morning, but it had been a while since then and Y/n hadn't come back yet.

He heaved himself off of the couch and groaned at the distance.

"God, it's a long way up these days."

He had only taken half a step in the direction his wayward husband had gone when Friday alerted him to a news broadcast of unusual activity on one of the islands off the coast closest to where they were at the moment.

He watched in disbelief as the news caster reported a seeming impossibility. The island was apparently home to a volcano, which was erupting. It was pure luck that it was an uninhabited island, but there would be far reaching results of the eruption.

Tony turned up the volume with a flick of his wrist.

"This is particularly baffling for scientists everywhere as this island has never been on anyone's radar for volcanic activity. Apparently this is just another case of nature getting the better of our understanding of science, which will have our scientists scratching their heads for decades. We have managed to get some footage of the eruption from a distance, and it is a truly harrowing sight."

Tony was transfixed. It really was awe inspiring to see something like that right in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation. There was no way that it was a coincidence that his literal demon husband was missing right as this was happening, right?

"Y/n?"

Tony made his way into the kitchen, calling out for this husband at the same time. He was getting really worried now, but was trying to calm himself. Everything was probably fine.

Tony tripped over something and landed sprawled on the ground. He looked around to find the offending item, but was met with the sight of their kitchen floor melted in a trail that led right out of the room.

Tony followed it with mounting fear. It led out their front door. After that the trail got further apart the further away from the house it got.

Tony swore as he summoned his suit. He hated being right.

---------

Tony was starting to think that fate hated him. Okay, to be fair he couldn't fault fate for sending him Y/n, but the demon could be the biggest drama king. Yes, Tony was aware that that was kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, but that didn't change the fact that it was true.

He was circling the island now, because of course the trail of fire and melted ground had led him there.

Tony let out another string of expletives as he flew close enough to land.

The island looked like what Tony though hell would look like. There were puddles of lava everywhere, and anything that wasn't a melted pile of rock was on fire or long ago burnt to ash. Tony was sweating in his suit, but he also knew that taking it off, even just the head piece, would be a death sentence.

"Y/N!"

He yelled as loud as he could, which, with the suit already amplifying his voice, was pretty loud.

There was movement from something off to his left.

Tony shifted to face it and was confronted with a sight that broke his heart. His sweet husband, always so concerned for Tony, was clearly breaking apart.

He had burn tracks down his cheeks where his skin hadn't been strong enough to withstand the lava. Y/n looked every bit the demon he had been when he first showed Tony what he was. He must have dropped the perception field once again, because Tony could see all of his demonic features. The horns which had once been shiny and sharp enough to gore even super soldiers, were now dull and flaking, just as broken as the man they were attached to.

Tony could see Y/n's chest glowing with the reds and oranges of fresh lava from where he stood.

Tony was frozen. He didn't know what he could do to fix this. But there had to be hope still, Y/n had recognised his voice even if he might not have understood the word.

"Stay there! I'll be right back. We're going to fix this, don't give up on me yet Y/n!"

After some quick thinking, Tony managed to concoct a plan that was only semi-crazy.

He flew as fast as he could in a tight circle just close enough to the ocean to encourage some of the water to form into a whirlwind of water and air. Once he had enough (he hoped), he sent it flying in the direction of his husband and the island.

He stood back and watched, sick fear pooling in his stomach as he saw the water hit. There was intense hissing and a fog filled the air in response to the water coming into contact with such a hot substance.

Tony couldn't wait any longer, so he landed as close as he could get to the place Y/n had been standing.

He found him laying in a puddle of water staring up into the fog. Tony removed the suit's head piece and both gauntlets, discarding them without a second thought.

He reached out to Y/n with shaking hands.

"What were you doing? What happened?"

Y/n turned deadened eyes on Tony.

"Time is a cruel Master who we must all answer to."

Tony had no idea what to do with that, but he really didn't like the look in Y/n's eyes.

"Yeah, but not today. You see that bastard, you kick his ass, you hear me?"

That got a tiny spark of life back into Y/n's eyes.

"Tony? How?"

Tony could have sobbed in relief. Y/n was coming back to him.

"Hey babe, I should be asking you that."

Tony pulled Y/n up into his arms. It was awkward with him still mostly in his suit but he wasn't about to take the time to remove it. He had a husband to bring back from the brink of something he still didn't understand.

"You gonna be alright?"

Y/n just burrowed into the side of Tony's neck.

"You scared the crap outta me, Y/n/n. What was that?"

Tony let Y/n pull back just enough to be able to see him. He wasn't letting the other man out of his arms for a long time after this.

"You can't deny it Tony, time is passing. I just couldn't bear the thought that you will pass so long before I will."

Tony felt his brow crease in confusion, but he waited for his love to continue.

"As a demon I have a much longer life span as you know. When you die I will be all alone. You'll be gone, forever. How am I supposed to live without you now that I know what it's like to live with you?"

Tony felt his heart breaking for Y/n. He could understand where he was coming from, but that still didn't explain this situation. He opened his mouth to question him when Y/n continued.

"Demons don't normally feel emotions as strong as love, and the loss that comes with it. We aren't built for it. Our hearts can overload. When that happens, they literally melt inside us. I'd been told the stories, but to be honest I didn't realise there was any truth in them."

He took a shuddering breath.

"When I realised what was happening, all I could think was that I couldn't take you with me when I died from it. So I left."

Tony let out a long breath.

"Okay, there's a lot to unpack there, but a steaming crater in the middle of nowhere isn't the place to do it. Let's get you home."

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

True to his word, Tony had barely let Y/n go since they got back home. He had whisked him through the kitchen with barely enough time for him to take in the ruined floor before he found himself on the couch wrapped in a blanket with Tony wrapped around that.

"Next time, tell me. Next time something is bothering you like this, let me in. There might be something I can do to help, but even if there isn't, we would still shoulder that problem together. There's nothing I would rather do, than try to help lighten the load."

Y/n vaguely registered the words. They sounded familiar to some distant corner of his mind, but he was still feeling pretty numb.

"Together, or not at all," Y/n echoed his words from that long ago battle.

He was rewarded by a soft squeeze from his husband.

"Exactly. Now, before you get all mopey again, there's a message from someone in New Asgard on the machine."

Y/n's head snapped up. There was no way it could be related to this.

He turned to Tony, feeling hope well up in his heart.

----------

In the years since Valkyrie had become ruler of New Asgard, the kingdom had flourished. Perhaps their greatest feat had been the resurgence of magic in their peoples. Battle prowess had been the sought after trait for centuries on Asgard, but now they were on a planet that wasn't capable of inter-realm travel. There was nowhere to go and fight monsters to prove their worth.

Once they realised that their new ruler was trying to bring them back to their former glory instead of just making sure that they survived, they began to take charge of their own lives. They dusted off old tomes of magic that had somehow found their way into the belongings people had managed to bring with them, and soon the vast majority of them were once again using magic.

The reason this had been their saving grace, was because a young woman, a descendant of Idunn, had been playing around with her magic and followed a strange magical signature.

What she had found had brought the people of New Asgard hope. Hope that they could once again be great. She had found a single golden apple, buried in the wreckage of the Avengers compound. It had been protected by a spell strong enough to save it from the battle of Thanos, as well as the passage of time.

A note had been rolled up and stuffed into the box with it.

"Man of Iron,

The Queen of Asgard has bequeathed the enclosed item to you upon the occasion of her death. You are receiving it now, due only to the petty revenge it is to give such a boon to a human. Be grateful it is more pleasing to me to disobey the All-Father than to seek revenge on you for your part in my imprisonment on Asgard.

Loki, Ruler of Asgard."

The young woman had immediately taken the box, note and all, to Valkyrie. The decision would ultimately be up to her of what to do with it.

Valkyrie had decided that the needs of her people could be served at the same time as fulfilling the late Queens last wishes. It would just take a little longer to get it to Stark.

They had used the seeds to re-grow Idunn's orchard of golden apples. The Aesir would be able to retain their long life after all. Now that they had an entire orchard, they had enough for their people as well as fulfilling Queen Frigga's last wish that Tony Stark be granted the long life of an Aesir.

----------

When Y/n and Tony arrived in New Asgard they were amazed at the transformation the previously small fishing village had gone through. Y/n smiled at the area. It would never be the same as what they had lost, but they had the opportunity to build themselves a new future and they had taken it with both hands.

Y/n stood in the orchard, tears running down his face as he held out a single golden apple to his husband.

Tony had been unsure when Valkyrie had explained about the apples, how they were the source of the Aesir's long life and more sturdy bodies.

He hadn't known how he would feel about living a longer life than all the other people he knew, but as he stood in front of Y/n, looking at the life he was offering him, he realised he would never choose anything else. As long as he had Y/n he could survive anything.

He stepped forward and accepted the apple.

#Tony Stark x male reader #iron man x male reader #male reader #death does not discriminate between the sinners and the saints

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 7 | If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom finally pulls himself together to tell Molly he loves her.  But is it too late for these two? 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom paced around the house for a good two hours. Each plan he came up with to win Molly back, more hairbrained than the next. None of them would have worked anyway. Tom didn’t know where she was staying. And she had been smart enough to withdraw cash from an ATM to use for a hotel room. During Tom’s muttering and ranting, his eye caught the vase Molly put the flowers from yesterday in. The sight of them enraged him so much that he flung them across the room. It hit the wall, sending glass, water and flowers flying and leaving a mark on the wall.

“Fuck! Another fucking mess to clean up.” he growled at himself as he went to clean it up.

Tom sliced open a finger and the palm of his right hand, picking up the glass shards to bin them.

“Christ, Thomas! Can’t do anything right. Break the vase and make a mess, cut your hand to hell, destroy the one good thing…”

He collapsed into sobs against the wall, covering his eyes with his non-injured hand. The other hand hung at his side, blood dripping onto the floor. It took a good five minutes for Tom to get himself off the floor. He poorly dressed the wound on his palm, having only the use of one hand and not his good hand.

Rather than bothering to clean up the mess, he let it sit and headed to bed. Not that he would do much sleeping.

He woke the next morning to more speculation in the papers about his marriage and a splitting headache. He fixed himself an espresso. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he missed dinner yesterday. Tom opened the fridge to find storage containers of fruit with little notes on them.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Tom chuckled as tears welled up again. “Oh, Molly.” He opened up the container and popped a piece of melon into his mouth. His phone buzzed.

“Ben.” he answered dryly, popping another piece of melon in.

“That bad? I suspected as much. How did you fuck this up?” Ben chuckled.

“I yelled. I called her stupid. I got jealous. But mostly I yelled. I never should have yelled at her. She doesn’t like to be yelled at. I promised not to yell at her…”

“You’re babbling, Tom. How on earth does a confession of your undying love turn into you yelling and her, sleeping on the couch?”

“Never got that far, and she moved out.” Tom sniffled. “I, I don’t know where she is.”

“Well, damn it man, find her and fix this. I can’t handle another six months of you moping about.” Ben groaned.

“What makes you think she’ll take me back. I broke her trust. I did the one thing—”

“She will take you back because she loves you. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. Besides, didn’t Loki kick Captain America’s ass?”

Tom chuckled. “Only once.” Tom sighed. “But how am I going to find her?”

“Have you tried the phone?”

Tom glared at his mobile. “You are hilarious, mate. Yes.”

“One of her friends then. Surely, someone must know where she is staying.”

Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t really have many…” Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to let you go, Ben.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I got to sell my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“Worse. My sister.”

-

Emma didn’t expect to see her brother appear on her doorstep that morning. She had expected him to call first.

“I don’t know where she is, Tom!” Emma snapped back.

“You’re lying, Emma. Your brow always twitches when you are lying. Where is she, Emma?”

“I’m not telling you, Tom. She told me what you said.” Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“And I need to tell her I was a right bastard.”

“Which you are!”

Tom shook his head. “If I tell you everything, will you tell where Molly is? I don’t care if she tells me to fuck off. I just need her to know I love her. More than anything.”

Emma opened the door wider and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

Tom stepped inside. “So you know how after the break-up, the papers kept running stories about me?”

“Yeah…”

Tom ran his toe along the edge of the rug in Emma’s foyer. “So I may have come up with the idea of getting married to give the papers something else to write?”

Emma’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “So you’re not married. Mum is going to—”

“Oh no, I’m legally married. I’ve got the certificate to prove it. I agreed to pay off her debts in exchange for carrying as my wife.” Tom’s voice grew smaller as he explained the whole arrangement.

“Is Molly a—”

“Don’t even say it, Emma or I swear. Don’t speak ill of Molly. She is a nice girl who has managed admirably despite a horrific childhood. And I…” He struggled to find the words.

“Fell in love.” Emma finished his sentence.

Tom’s eyes welled with tears, and he nodded. “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did, Em. She is…” Tom choked. “… my world. I love her so much it burns me from the inside out and she doesn’t know. She needs to know. I can’t let her go without her knowing she is loved. By me.” A tear fell onto Tom’s cheek.

Emma stood there for a moment, silently staring at her brother, crying in her foyer. “You realize by telling me all this, I will have enough to blackmail you until the end of time to not tell Mother?”

“A price I will gladly pay to get the chance to talk to my wife one more time.” Tom gazed up at his sister. “Will you help me, Emma?”

She shifted her feet around. “She’s at the Park International Hotel, Room 223.”

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Em.”

“Go get the girl, Tom.” she smiled at him.

-

“Thanks for coming over.” Molly sniffled. “I know you’re busy.”

“Hey, hey.” Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s no trouble. You sounded so upset on the phone.”

Molly smiled over at Chris before her face crumbled as she cried again. For the looks of it, she had cried most of the night. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.

“Sh, sh, sh.” Chris moved to envelope her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest. “Tell me what happened. It’s about the picture, isn’t it?”

Molly nodded her head against him. “Yes.”

“I can’t imagine Tom getting mad about that, babe. We are just friends.”

“I know, right? But Tom got so mad and cold. And he yelled. He knows how… how.. I.. am with yelling.” She buried her head in his chest. “I thought he cared about me.”

“Of course he cares about you. He loves you, Molly.” Chris pulled back. “You’re his wife.”

“It’s a bit more to it than that, I’m afraid.” She wiped the tears away. “Our relationship is…” She was on the verge of telling Chris everything.

“Complicated?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. And the fame only makes it worst. Everyone watching and judging. They have no idea what is going behind closed doors.”

“That’s an understatement.” Molly sniffled. “How do you deal?”

Chris smiled and laughed. “Not well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”

“A handsome guy like you?” Molly teased.

“I have my flaws. But my dog thinks I’m great.”

Molly laughed for the first time. “I bet he does.”

“But the important thing is that the two of you love and care for each other, and the rest of it is bullshit.” Chris sighed. “And you and Tom clearly care for each other. Why else would he act so possessive?” Chris smirked.

“You noticed that?”

“I could have been blind and noticed that. Tom has got it bad. And I can’t say I blame him. A beautiful, amazing girl like you. He’s a lucky guy. If you were single…”

Molly blushed. “Thanks.”

They sat in awkward silence until Chris smacked his legs.

“Well, this is awkward. I’m going to go get some food for us and bring it back, and we are going to figure out what to do next.”

Chris turned to leave. “Chris!” Molly called out.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Sure, babe.”

-

Tom stepped out of the elevator and walked towards Molly’s room. The entire drive over, Tom went through his head what he would say to Molly. How he would beg her to come back. That he loved her. All that went out the window when he saw Chris leaving Molly’s room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom bellowed. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Chris spun around and his eyes narrowed. “I’m here at Molly’s request. Apparently, her husband upset her.” he sniped back.

“And you’re here to comfort her? That’s my job. I’m her husband.” Tom’s fist clenched as he saw Chris smirking at him.

“You’re doing a piss-poor job, buddy. She’s been crying all night.” Chris jabbed his thumb at the door.

“How would you know that?!” Tom marched forward until he was toe to toe with Evans.

Chris looked Tom up and down. “Listen,” he ignored Tom’s question. “if things don’t work out between the two of you, mind if I date her? She’s seems like a great girl, deserves a good—”

CRACK! Tom punched Chris square on the jaw. Chris tumbled to the ground, holding his face.

“If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!” Tom yelled back.

“Tom!” Molly stood at the door. “What the fuck?!”

“Molly!” Tom and Chris called out together. They both rushed to her, but Tom got there first, kicking a foot out to keep Chris at bay.

“Darling, I…” Tom reached out for her. Molly took a step back.

“How did you even find me?”

“Emma told me.”

Molly huffed. “Traitor.”

“She knows.” Tom leaned in.

Molly gasped. “You told her?! But she might tell your mom. Tom, I…”

“You’re worth the risk.”

“I should say so.” Chris piped up.

Tom’s head twisted around to glare at Chris.

“You’re still here? This is none of your concern.” Tom hissed.

“I was invited.” Chris straightened his shirt. “Right, Molly?”

Molly held up her hand. “I think you should go, Chris.”

“But—” Chris protested.

“Tom and I need to talk. Alone.”

Tom smiled at Chris. “Nice to see you, mate.”

Chris wanted to push the issue but knew better. He sighed. “Fine, but call me if you need anything, Molly. I’m still in town for a few more days.”

Molly nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.” Chris shoved his pockets and walked towards the elevator.

Tom returned his attention to Molly. They stepped into her room and shut the door. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Molly. And he’s already in your be—”

“Did you just come here to yell at me again?! And what are you talking about?”

“Chris said you have been crying all night. I assumed…” Tom stopped. “He didn’t—”

“No, but thanks for thinking so little of me. Did you come here to tell me that?”

“No, I…” Tom stumbled over his words. “I was wrong. I should have never yelled. Especially knowing what I did. You were right, I was jealous of Chris. I still am.”

Molly tapped her foot. “Anything else? Because you could have sent all of that in a text. You didn’t need to come here. It doesn’t change anything, Tom. I.. can’t… keep…” Her voice wavered, all her hurt and emotions mixed up inside of her.

Tom swallowed hard and exhaled sharply. “I love you, Molly. I am…” He chuckled. “hopelessly in love with you. That’s why I got so jealous. I was afraid that…” Tom fidgeted. “… you would leave me.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Molly fidgeted.

“I’m an idiot.” Tom stepped forward, cupping her cheek. “I thought admitting I loved you meant losing you. Our relationship was never meant to be this. It was business. And then Chris came along and the two of you got along. I lost my mind.

“The heart wants what it wants.” Molly whispered, her hands lighting on Tom’s shoulders. “Tom, I…”

Tom pleaded. “Please come back. I need you, Molly. I will spend the rest of my life showing you, proving to you I am worthy of your love. Just please come back.” Tom pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard and crying.

“I… I… love you too.” Molly whispered, starting to sob. “And you are an absolute idiot.”

They both laughed. Tom leaned in and his lips tentatively, scared she would turn away. Molly deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him against her. Tom walked them back until she hit the wall. Molly gasped. Tom breathed her in and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting every corner of her. He wanted to know every inch. She clung to him for dear life, tasting him as well. There was heat and passion and everything Molly wanted. She leaned back against the wall, panting.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long.” Tom continued to kiss her, in between words, stealing her breath. “Marry me.”

Molly giggled against his lips, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m already married to you.”

Tom’s lips trailed down Molly’s neck. “Then sleep with me.” He sucked hard in the crook of her neck. “Let me make love to you, darling. I need you.” He pressed against her, desperate.

“Yes.” The only word Molly could muster in the moment.

Tom picked her up and walked her to the unmade bed and placed her down. As he tugged his shirt off, Molly scrambled with her shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor, leaving herself in just a bra and panties.

Tom smiled and licked his lips as he yanked his belt off and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. Molly gulped as she took in Tom naked.

“Bra and panties too.” he prodded as he crawled onto the bed. “I want to see my wife in all her beauty.”

Molly shivered at his words and her hands shook as she unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down her legs. She laid there naked.

“Glorious.” Tom purred as he settled between her legs. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sucking and licking. Molly arched her back and groaned.

“Fuck, yes!” She grabbed the back of Tom’s head and pulled him closer.

Tom released her nipple with a pop and moved over to the other one. His hand snaked between their bodies to find Molly’s core, teasing her clit with his thumb. She bucked against his touch.

“Tom, please. I need you.” Her hand stroked his cock, teasing the tip along her folds. “All of you.”

“Then all of me you shall have.” Tom pushed into her, groaning until he bottomed out. Molly arched into him, filled to the brim.

“Yes!” she breathed.

Tom twisted his hips as he thrusted into her with long strokes, hitting that spot inside of her. Molly bucked her hips, wanting every inch of him. Her nails dug into Tom’s back.

Tom wanted the moment to last forever. Just him and Molly and nothing else. But his release edged near, and he wanted to please Molly first.

“Are you close, darling?” Tom growled in her ear.

Molly nodded. “Yes!”

Tom drew tight circles against Molly’s clit as he sped up his thrusting. “Come for me, my love.”

Molly soon came, clenching hard around him, causing Tom to come too, spilling inside of her. He carefully rolled off to the side, and pulled Molly onto his chest, smoothing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

“That was incredible, darling. You are…”

“So are you.” she interrupted, wiggling into the crook of the body. “Tom?”

“Molly?”

“Will you do me a favor?” She drew circles in Tom’s chest hair with her nail.

“Anything.” He held his breath, waiting.

“Take me home.” Her face breaking out into a sparkling smile.

Tom pressed his lips to hers. “On one condition….” She raised an eyebrow. “You move into the master bedroom with me. I haven’t slept a wink in weeks because you aren’t there.”

Molly laughed as she nodded her head. “Deal.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut #accidently married

[midnightmusings-et-moi]

The Marauders in the delivery room with Lilly (head cannon)

A/n: credits of the fan art go to the incredibly talented artist!

Warnings: Lilly swearing, apart from that nothing really- just fluffy fluff!

James had forced Remus and Sirius into the delivery room as well because he knew for a fact that he would freak out

James would be hyperventilating more than Lilly because “IM NOT READY TO BE A FATHER”

For the first five seconds he’s screaming along with Lilly but more in terror rather than in pain

Sirius would be freaking out too “MERLIN ITS COVERED IN BLOOD OH MERLIN”

“WILL YOU TWO IDIOTS SHUT UP THERE IS A CHILD COMING OUT OF MY VAGINA” Lilly would shriek and definitely resolved to strangle James and Sirius after giving birth.

“PADFOOT, MOONEY I THINK IM GONNA BE SICK”

Remus is the only sane and calm one in the room

Remus smacks James across the face to get him to stop losing his shit and go comfort Lilly

“Your wife is giving birth to your child for Godrick’s sake why are YOU shrieking like you’re pushing a child out?”

James snaps out of it and rushes to hold Lilly’s hand and tell her she’s doing amazing

Lilly is holding James’ hand on one side and Sirius’ on the other while Remus is calms Lilly down : “You’re almost there”

Her nails are digging into James’ and Sirius’ hands- “ouch that really hurts lils” Sirius would murmur after he calmed down a bit.

“SIRIUS SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT IT NOW BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT OF THAT BLOODY FUCKING WINDOW”

They had never seen Lilly this scary before

There was a slight complication because Lilly wasn’t dilated enough.

That’s when everything got extremely serious and the boys had to compose themselves for the sake of Harry and Lilly.

“Don’t worry, love, I promise you everything will be okay and we’ll have Harry soon” James would say as he kisses her forehead and pushes her hair back.

Remus and Sirius would squeeze her shoulder reassuringly and not say a word because deep down they were scared too.

James had to hold himself together for Lilly’s sake but he was terrified that the complications would injure her and Harry.

The healers gave Lilly a potion to solve the problem and thankfully it did.

Lilly, James, Remus and Sirius were extremely relieved and the boys cheered Lilly on through the last stretch.

Alas, Harry was brought into the world, safe and healthy.

Sirius and Remus had left the room for a bit so that James and Lilly could have a moment with their first born son.

The parents were in awe at how tiny he was and they instantly fell in love with him.

They shed a few tears of relief and joy before the exhausted mother fell asleep with Harry laying on her chest.

James held his son in his arms, scared to hurt the delicate creature. A hint of a smile ghosted Harry’s lips and in that moment James knew that he truly had everything in the world.

“Hey, there Harry.” He whispered , “It looks like you inherited my messy hair. You’re gonna kick ass at quidditch, little guy”

Remus and Sirius too fell in love with Harry.

Sirius and Remus would argue over who got to hold him.

“Mooney you got to hold him for way longer that’s not fair!”

“No I did not! You got to rock him to sleep !”

“It’s not my fault he likes his uncle Sirius more”

“How dare you. He was playing with my fingers earlier in case you forgot”

“Hey! Gimme Harry before Lilly wakes up and hogs him.” James would reach his arms out to Sirius who shielded the baby and hissed at James.

Harry had the boys wrapped around his fingers from the moment they met him- they would observe every little action of his and chuckle in wonder and awe.

“Where’s Harry?” They heard a sleepy voice from the hospital bed. Lilly was awake.

Remus carefully handed him to Lilly who’s eyes were filled with love and adoration. “My little human. Mummy loves you so much, darling” Lilly whispered, lightly stroking Harry’s hair.

The sight of Lilly’s motherly affection had the boys melting.

The nurse came in the room to tell Lilly that Harry was hungry and that it was time to feed him.

“Okay out everyone” James said pushing Sirius and Remus out of the door.

They protested “whyyy no just a few minutes longer” they couldn’t stand to be parted from Harry

“Lilly needs to feed Harry and I’d rather you not see my wife half naked”

“We saw her push a child out of her, but okay” Sirius huffed rolling his eyes

“Yes but the hospital gown covered what needed to be covered so you only got to see the bloody mess” James laughed.

Remus poked his head over Prongs’ shoulder to speak to Lilly “Lills, when you’re done, can I rock Harry to sleep please?”

He sounded so sweet and precious like a child wanting to play with his new toy. It made her heart melt. “Yes Remus. Of course you can.”

The boys loved little Harry so much. He was definitely the light of their lives.

#the marauders #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #James potter imagine #James potter fluff #Lily evans fluff #Harry Potter fluff #Harry Potter imagine #remus lupin fluff #sirius black fluff #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #marauders fanfiction #the Marauders era #fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter blurbs #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #marauder x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #lily evans fluff #jily