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thegayestmferintown · 7 months

Text

@steponmebrycetankthrust

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭

Bryce and Bobby are the fucking best.

Their cuddles are warm, and comforting.

Not to mention you get them every night.

Now, when you're upset, they treat you so well, better than they do already.

And they treat you wonderfully no matter what.

But they just treat you like literal delicate royalty when you're upset.

Blankets and pillows galore

Snacks galore

Anything you want, Bryce is screaming at Donovan to go get.

Anything you need, Bobby is racing out the door to get you.

They also give the best kisses.

Now, you may think that Bobby's kisses are sloppy but they're really not.

His kisses are soft and delicate and sweet.

Bryce doesn't kiss often, but when she does, it is extremely romantic.

She prefers to kiss your hand or your chest (as stated in previous headcanons)

Your nightly routine is... something.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭! 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲-𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤. "𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛."

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐢𝐞?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭. "𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 (11)," 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧 '𝐨𝐡' 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 ��𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫.

#bryce tankthrust x reader #bobby worst x reader #poly worstthrust #worstthrust #brandon rodgers x reader #brandon rogers #bryce tankthrust #bobby worst #x reader #romantic x reader #asks #steponmebrycetankthrust #brcu

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g0dwat3r · 7 months

Text

THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH BRYCE TANKTHRUST X READERS

I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH

THERE IS NOT ENOUGH OF HER

I WILL MAKE THEM MYSELF IF NEED BE

#bryce tankthrust #Bryce Tankthrust x reader #bryce tankthrust x reader #brcu #brandon rogers #brandon rodgers x reader #tags i guess #im running out of ideas for tags #touya stfu

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lonleywriters-blog · 1 year

Note

hiiii can i get headcanons for brandon rogers characters with an autistic s/o?

Oh ofc characters chosen random

Brandon Rodger characters with autistic s/o

He is very understanding

He may accidentally trigger you but he tries not to

He will be very gentle

Scared he will mess up

Will ask if you are okay a lot

Has headphones and safe items on him at all times

Very kind and communicates well

She will look up how to help you

She has her guards have safety items with them

She makes a safe room for you connected to her office

She will make sure to get rid of any triggering fabrics or textures

She will ask about your triggers and adjust to them

Has a notebook for you to write in if you are selective mute

Spoils you with things for your special interests

He wants to here all about your special interests

He will be very aware and observant

He will keep headphones on him

He will ask you if you want him to bring anything else

He writes down all your comfort shows and food

He is always prepared and kind

He makes sure not to baby you ethier

He is aware he can be overstimulating and understands

He will try not to be as loud and jumpy

He wants to hear you info dump for hours

Always okay with watching a comfort show or movie

Buys all the comfort food you want

Has a weighted blanket if you ever want it

#brandon rodgers x reader #bobby worst x reader #bryce tankthrust x reader #elmer x reader #sam x reader

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dmc-tings · 2 years

Text

Master List

The Four Lord’s

General Headcannons

Accidently Hurting Their s/o

With a Gen Z s/o

Handling their s/o being flirted with

Non-Binary/Genderfluid s/o

The Four Turning On mother Miranda (pt1)

The Four Turning On Mother Miranda (pt2)

Mono in the Village

Warming Up to You

“I Love You”

Mystical Musical s/o

Hollow Knight Vessel

What They Drink

AFAB Reader on her Period

You Just Found Out About Their Powers

My Banter

Alcina Dimitrescu

Respawning s/o

Trans!Fem Reader (Alcina)

Killing her s/o

The Dimitrescu’s with a new sibling

Motherly s/o (For the Girls)

Karl Heisenberg

Trans!Fem Reader (Karl)

With a Technical s/o

In The Modern World (Karl)

Moreau with a crush on Karl’s s/o

Soft! Heisenberg

Messing with His s/o’s Glasses

Jealous Idiot

Donna Beneviento

Carpenter s/o

Runaway s/o (GN)

In The Modern World (Donna)

Salvatore Moreau

Genuine Love

Long Lost Baker Kid (Saga)

Long Lost Baker

Learning About Their Families Death

Chris Redfield

Chibi Soulmate

Werewolf! Chris x Pregnant s/o

RE Characters

Valentines Day

As Brandon Rodger’s Quotes

Black Air Forces

HeisenField Ship

Chains (songfic)

Roses and Chocolates

Banter1

Hard Rocks and Soft Metals

Mother Miranda

Father (Her s/o)

Marcelo Adams

Headcannons

DMC

Kisses

s/o with Allergies

Uncle (Great-Uncle for Nero)

Teaching Their s/o How To Drive (pt1 Fellas)

Teaching Their s/o How To Drive (pt2 Ladies)

College Graduation Celebration

Boys with Their s/o on Period

Boys As Doggos

s/o With Reptiles

Banter(1)

Dante

Valentines Day

Y/N and Dante (1)

Vergil

Y/N and Vergil (1)

#masterlist

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cosmiclunarprincess-fanfic · 3 years

Text

UPDATED MASTERLIST

( Steve Rodgers )

( Bucky Barnes )

( Erik Stevens )

( Frank Castle )

( Clark Kent )

( Derek Hale )

( Stiles Stilinski )

( Charles Brandon )

( Massimo Torricelli )

( Henry Cavill )

( Sebastian Stan )

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wonton-lady-writes · 2 years

Text

Avalanche, Part 1

Summary: Bucky is a fool in love, and so is she. She sings her sorrows to cafe patrons, and he avoids his feelings like the plague. Being afraid of his past is keeping Bucky from enjoying the good things the present and future are providing for him. How long will these good things wait for Bucky?

Word count: 3122

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Stark!Reader, platonic Steve Rodgers x Reader, platonic Sam Wilson x Reader

Rating: Teen?

Tags: Fluff, angst if you squint, established relationships/world, Stark!Reader AU, Mutant!Reader AU

A/N: I do not own these characters. I do not own the image below (titled Byron by Adele M. Reed on Flickr). Sorry for any mistakes, this work is not beta read. I hope y'all enjoy my first work in a long, long time! Hoping to make this into a three part series. Also, a complementary playlist for you lovely beings :)

Soft music flowed from the old speakers of the cafe, dancing along the glass dessert display case, caressing the frostbitten ears of the late night patrons. Coats were stacked in layers on the coat hooks near the entrance, a wet floor sign and mop perched beside a chalkboard welcome sign decorated in hand drawn white music notes and orange leaves. Paintings from local artists adorned the brick walls, outlined in faux ivy and illuminated by the faint glow of Edison lights strung across the exposed wooden beams of the cafe’s high ceiling. Behind the counter, a barista was humming along to the music as he wiped down the espresso machine, the pastry chef carefully lined the empty display case with warm, flaky croissants and gooey chocolate muffins she pulled fresh from the oven. People were beginning to gather around the stage, sipping on hot drinks and sugary pastries as they made themselves comfortable in the cafe’s mismatched chairs and sofas.

A young woman was sitting on a stool on stage, tuning a guitar. Her unruly curls were tucked behind her ears as she intently focused on the sound of the strings beneath her fingers. She tapped the toe of her black boot against the worn dark wood of the cafe stage as she thought for a moment. Something was off. She felt nervous, though she couldn’t quite place where this feeling of unease was coming from. It wasn’t being on stage that made her feel this way. Everyone in the audience knew her. They - like her - were evening regulars. No, this feeling of dread seemed to come from somewhere else - somewhere outside of the safe bubble of this cafe.

In the past few months, this place had become a second home for her. When she wasn’t performing, her evenings were spent in the back corner, away from the group, sipping on her mocha while she scribbled away in a journal. Tonight though, she felt like singing. She played with the hem of her bell sleeves, taking note of how the thin, red polyester looked against her pale hands. The music playing from the cafe speakers faded out, the sound of static signaling her microphone was now live. She cleared her throat then smiled, shrugging away the universe’s warning.

“We love you Y/N Stark!” the cafe’s pastry chef screamed from behind the counter, a grin plastered on her face. The crowd laughed.

“Hey everyone, I’m back,” the crowd erupted in cheers. “Unfortunately, I will not be sharing any of my personal woes with you today. I know, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I love you too, Ingrid,” Y/N laughed. “Especially your Tuesday night danishes. Now, I’m in a bit of a mood, you know? And the only one who really gets me when I’m feeling like this is the wonderful Brandon Flowers, so tonight I’ll be playing his masterpiece ‘Lonely Town’ and you all can join me in this wonderful mood that I’m in. If you know the chorus, feel free to join.”

Y/N began to strum the strings of her guitar, closing her eyes as she waited for her cue. She was two lines in when the bells of the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer, but she didn’t bother to look up. In this moment, it was just her and the music. Eyes closed, fingers strumming chords she knew by heart.

Three men entered the cafe and sat around an empty table in the back near the counter. Two were smiling and nudging each other, occasionally stealing glances at the quiet third. The smiling blond man whispered something to his laughing companion whose face lit up. He quickly got up and ordered from the counter.

The third man didn’t notice their smiles and whispers, or even the steaming mug of black coffee that suddenly appeared before him. His blue eyes were focused on the girl singing on stage. Nothing else existed in the dimly lit cafe, only her and her voice. It was the same voice he once would fall asleep listening to under the stars, the same one he had been aching to hear again for months.

“Hey, hey Buck,” his blond friend nudged him, breaking him from his thoughts. “Welcome back.”

“Steve...” he said, raking his gloved hand through his long, dark hair.

“Now, before you get mad,” the other interjected. “We have a very good reason for-”

“It was Sam’s plan,” Steve explained, trying to hold back a smile.

“No, Steve, our plan. Us.” Sam said. “However, my informant failed to provide one small detail.”

“The singing, that was not planned.” Steve shook his head.

“Did not think she would be singing.” Sam said.

Bucky frowned. Yes, he missed her. Yes, he had been dying to speak to her since the night they walked down to the pier together. Neither of them could sleep, and they always found comfort in each other's presence. But this was not the way he wanted this to happen. This isn’t how he wanted to see her again. He didn’t even bring flowers or practice what he would say to her.

“She’s going to kill us,” Bucky said.

“And you’re going to love every minute of it,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky over his yellow mug.

Bucky glared at him, then turned his attention back to the stage. Back to Y/N.

The crowd was joining her now as she sang a new song, one he recognized from a CD she made him. She was smiling and nodding her head now, her foot tapping along to the sound of her guitar. Her hair was longer, but she still looked the same to Bucky. Her dark blue eyes still sparkled, even under the dim lights of the stage, her laugh still infectious.

Soon the cafe was applauding and Y/N was making her way off the stage to the counter with her guitar case in hand. Before Bucky could stop him, Sam was already out of his seat running up to her.

“Steve…”

“Don’t worry, Buck,” Steve clapped Bucky on his shoulder. “Y/N is one of my best friends, I know her better than most. She probably won't hurt you. Probably.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Sam was busy helping Y/N with her guitar case. To say she was surprised to see him would be an understatement.

“Sam, how did you know I was here?” She asked through a forced smile. This was not good. Not good at all.

“It’s a long story. We enjoyed hearing you play. Had no idea you could sing like that.”

Y/N froze. “We?”

Sam jerked his head in the direction of the back table. Steve waved and Y/N let out an internal scream. When she realized who was beside him, she swore her heart stopped beating. When Bucky made eye contact with her, she could feel her heart leap right out of her body and bury itself into the earth.

“Samuel Thomas Wilson,” Y/N whispered through clenched teeth. “You’re dead.”

“You guys need to just talk,” Sam begged. “Things have been weird long enough -”

“But I was singing!” she squeaked, “Singing things that may or may not be about - something. And someone here might recognize him and that’s just going to be -”

“Wait, wait,” Sam interrupted. “How would anyone recognize him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Nope.”

“Yes. How often are you here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stark, do you do more than sing?”

“Let’s get coffee, I want coffee!” Y/N began to quickly walk to the counter, waving down the barista. “The mochas here are so good! It has dark chocolate and caramel, and I like to ask for a sprinkle of crushed cookies on top.”

Y/N ordered her drink then purposefully took a seat next to Steve, across from Bucky.

“Hello boys,” she said, feigning confidence.

“So,” Steve said, nudging her with his elbow, “does this mean you’ll be serenading us now when we ask?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“And, is it just acoustic guitar, or do you play anything else?” Sam asked.

“Keyboard, maybe?”

“What about a tambourine?”

“No, Sam.” Y/N tilted her head and smiled. “But I can tell you just where to shove that tambourine -”

“Here’s your drink, Y/N.” Isaac, one of the cafe’s best baristas and a true angel, handed her the warm beverage. “Ingrid and I were hoping you’d be sharing another story or poem today.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, raising his hand. “Did you say poem?”

“You write poems?” Sam grinned.

Y/N could feel her cheeks redden. She avoided their eyes, especially Bucky’s.

“Thank you for the drink, Isaac. I’ll talk with you and Ingrid in a bit.”

“But we wanna know about the poetry,” Steve whispered as Isaac walked away.

“No,” Y/N said firmly.

She couldn’t help but steal a glance at Bucky. He was staring intently at her. Y/N hid her face behind her purple mug, pretending she hadn’t looked at him. Was it believable that the drink was making her face flushed? She really hoped so.

She wasn’t trying to ignore Bucky. On the contrary, she wanted more than anything to talk to him. She missed the nights in Wakanda where they would sit together and share stories by the fire. She missed pizza with him. She missed teasing him and getting him to cook for her. She missed their friendship before the Blip and the few good weeks after he came back.

And then he just disappeared. She only knew he was okay because Steve and Sam let her know he was still alive. Unfortunately, even they had no answers to why he suddenly began avoiding her.

“Seriously though,” Sam said, “you sounded really good up there. Didn’t she, Buck?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to say or if he should even say anything.

Y/N cleared her throat as she pretended to check her phone. “Well, it was lovely to see you all, but I have to get going.”

“Your drink just got here though.” Steve motioned to her still steaming mug.

She slid it in front of him, “You can have it, I need to be back in Salem early tomorrow.”

Before anyone could speak up, Y/N pulled on her coat and waved goodbye as she lugged her guitar case towards the entrance. Bucky frowned as he watched her disappear into the night.

“I hate that teleporting thing,” Sam huffed. “It always feels like cheating somehow.”

Their table remained silent. A man and woman were on stage now, singing a duet that had the whole crowd bobbing their heads and swaying to their music. Isaac and Ingrid were whispering and laughing together behind the counter. A group of four college aged boys entered the cafe, peeling their snowy gloves off their pink hands as they anxiously examined the menu, eager for something to warm them.

“What was the point of this?” Bucky mumbled, his eyes closed.

“We didn’t think she would just leave,” Steve said.

“Like I did?” Bucky opened his eyes and glared at his two friends.

Sam and Steve looked down at their empty mugs. They both knew what he was hinting at. Y/N had good reason to not want to speak to Bucky. He had kissed her. Then he disappeared without a word.

Bucky stood up and pushed in his chair. “I’m going home.”

They didn’t try to stop him when he left. They looked at each other, each bearing an expression of concern, one that said they hoped they didn’t just make a mistake.

The french doors of her room open, the green and ivory curtains dancing in the autumn breeze. The faint sound of traffic four stories below had helped keep her mind from spiralling in the lonely quiet of her small Manhattan apartment. Y/N dug herself deeper into the crisp white comforter on her bed, hoping sleep could help tame the thoughts swarming her mind like a cloud of locusts.

Five months later, and the knot in her chest ached just as much as it did that night. The embarrassment still felt brand new. She thought about the pier. She could see him standing next to her, closer than he had been when they first stopped to look out at the waves in the moonlight. He smelled like coffee and leather. She remembered the way his blue eyes looked into hers and made her breath catch in her throat. The cool leather of his gloves against her flushed cheeks. Then the warmth when their lips finally…

Y/N buried her face into her pillow and screamed. No, she thought, No more thinking about that! She quickly threw her blankets off of her and stomped to her kitchen for a glass of water.

Her bare feet padded along the cool oak floors as she paced the length of her kitchen. From behind a curtain of faux ivy, an oval clock above her dining table read 3am. She counted four hours - no, four and a half hours since she saw him. Four and a half hours since they saw each other for the first time in months and said nothing.

As she wrapped herself in a warm fleece blanket and sunk into the maroon cushions of her couch, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what he had been thinking that night. Had he planned on seeing her? Did he want to talk to her, or were Steve and Sam meddling? Did he think about her as much as she thought about him?

With a sigh, Y/N shut her eyes and rested her head on a couch pillow. She was too exhausted; physically and emotionally. It was too late at night to worry and relive all that hurt. She promised herself that when the sun rose in the morning, she’ll head over to Steve’s and pry the truth from him. In the meantime, she let her mind drift into better memories as she slowly drifted to sleep.

Bucky knew he should be paying attention, or at least try to pretend to be paying attention, but his mind was too occupied at the moment. The night at the cafe kept playing over and over in his mind, her face more bright and more clear the longer he thought about her. He was busy imagining all the things he should have said to her when Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said as she tapped her pen on her clipboard. “What’s keeping your mind so occupied today?”

He shifted his weight. The blue sofa in Dr. Raynor’s office was too soft, it made Bucky like he was sinking into quicksand. He kept his eyes focused on something outside the office’s window.

“Nothing,” he said.

Dr. Raynor sighed, “Barnes, do I need to remind you again why you’re here -”

“No,” Bucky sighed. “You don’t.”

“Then, talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re frowning more than usual,” Dr. Raynor smirked.

“It’s the couch.” Bucky said flatly, crossing his arms.

“Maybe the color of the couch?” A knowing smile danced across Dr. Raynor’s face.

Bucky pursed his lips, “No.”

“Did you see her?”

“No.”

“That’s a yes.”

With another sigh, Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We didn’t talk,” he said finally.

“And why not?” Dr. Raynor’s expression was full of genuine concern. It was a miracle he had let Y/N’s existence slip during one of their first sessions, it was obvious this girl was important to him.

“Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Then where would the right place be or the right time?”

Bucky buried his face into his hands and groaned, “I don’t know, but that wasn’t it.”

“What would you say to her if the time and the place were right?”

“There’s nothing I can say.”

“Nothing at all?”

Without a word, Bucky stood up and leaned against the office window. There really was nothing he could say to her. How would he even begin to explain?

“You have feelings for this girl,” Dr. Raynor continued. “That much is obvious. Based on what I have gathered from what little you have told me, and what I already know about her due to her family’s public presence, she’s a good one. There are no words that do Y/N Stark justice, she’s a selfless creature with endless love and compassion for all. It would be hard for anyone to get to know her and not fall in love.”

Bucky shifted his weight, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written on your face when you hear her name. Is this not the same girl who waited those five years for you during the Blip?”

“She didn’t wait for me. She and Steve were trying to get everyone back-”

“She never moved on.” Dr. Raynor and Bucky locked eyes.

“There was nothing to move on from.”

Dr. Raynor laughed, “I doubt that, or else you wouldn’t be so smitten.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back out the window.

“She didn’t move on. I doubt she has now, or else you’d have more than a frown on your face. She waited for you, Barnes. She searched for you. How long are you going to keep her waiting?”

He turned back to Dr. Raynor, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t what, Sergeant?”

Bucky hesitated. It was one thing to think these things, another to say them aloud. “She’s so good, and bright, and lovable. She’s done nothing but good and then I’m… I have these things that will always haunt me. I have a past. I’ll never be…”

“I have a feeling she doesn’t see any of that,” Dr. Raynor said with a gentle smile.

“I killed her grandparents.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“Yes, it was.”

“It was a twisted, memoryless shadow of you.” She took off her glasses and massaged her temples. “How long are you going to let these chances slip by? Stark is a good thing, she is good for you. And you keep running away. You can’t run forever. Good things won’t wait around forever.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He didn’t want to let go of Y/N. He didn’t like the distance he put between them. The problem was that he didn’t know what the right thing to do was anymore. Being with her felt selfish, undeserved, but being without her was miserable.

“Barnes, just go to her. Tell her everything. That girl doesn’t deserve to wait any longer,” Dr. Raynor sighed. She tossed her clipboard and pen down onto the table in front of her. “And get a haircut, that might help you.”

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hornyorca · 7 years

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Furry balls.

Modern!Ragnarssons x Reader.

@ivarinleatherpants wanted this after the puppy’s and i’m always a slut for ragnarssons in any situation, especially with animals, so here you go boo!!

yes, i did make a brandon rodgers quote.

Prompt: How would the Ragnarssons react to you bringing a stray kitten home.

Bjorn:

Humorously, when you first met Bjorn, you really weren’t attracted to him. In fact, you found him a total dick when you first met him — short answers when he would decided you were good enough to talk too, odd looks, would always keep his distance, and it was his younger brother Ubbe you were trying to get at. Surprisingly, one day that was shot down when you found out the second-oldest was in a very serious relationship. After that information, you realized quiet a few times Bjorn had tried to give you hints that his brother was not available. Afterwards, it was shockingly the blonde who was there in your weakness.

You had grown so close over time, and now here you were; engaged and living in a beautiful house in the woods. Though, there had been one little problem with the relationship you two shared. He had always had a no inside pet rule, no matter what kind of animal it was, and you tried them all: birds, dogs, ferrets, etc.

No, no, and no. The same answer every time. He never grew up with pets in the house, they always stayed outside. You, on the other hand, your house had always been close to practically being a zoo. You tried hard, you really did, and it was now to the point you were ready to cut corners.

So that day when he came home from work, hauling through the front door and looking around with narrowed eyes, your head tilted and you questioned him. His thick finger pointed at you accusingly. “I saw the bowls outside, babe, I told you — “

“Well then,” You cleared your throat, motioning towards the porch that he walked through, which happened to be closed in. “You’d be happy to know that I’m actually listening to you.”

“Really?” He questioned, nodding his head towards the corner of the kitchen. “Because I see a bag of cat food over there, unless you slipped something in my lunch today.”

Delicate hands fell to your hips, shifting your weight to one foot. “It’s outside, boo,” You explained to him, feeling a little heart-broken that another one of your plans were beginning to fail.

“And tomorrow it’s going to be inside.”

“Nuh — “

“I know you.”

Your heads both snapped towards the door, listening to the faint meowing coming through it. Chancing a glance a him, you saw the warning look cross his face before you took off running towards the door. Despite the fact he tried to tackle you, you effectively made it and threw the door open, immediately picking up the little fuzzy kitten that nuzzled into your warm touch.

“It’s not even tomorrow yet...”

“But look at him, Bjorn!” You shouted, holding the little squirming baby up, it’s little triangle tail wagging like a puppy’s. “He has no mommy! He was stuck in the rain earlier!”

You watched him stand, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging it. The only sound that could be heard for the moment was the kitten mewling, and his electric blue eyes were piercing into it. The heart-break must of been obvious on your features, and it seemed this was the last time he could take it. “If you really want — “

You screamed, bouncing up and down before running towards him, putting the three of you into a big group hug, one that the kitten seemed to love because it began purring and rubbing it’s head against his neck. His arms didn’t hesitate much to wrap around you.

... It was how much he actually loved you.

Ubb(a)be:

It had been a hard day at work you figured, when Ubbe came home that evening, offered you a rushed greeting and a soft kiss to your cheek.

He practically waved you off when you tried to stop him, trying to explain to him what had happened to you today on your way home, but with his tired sigh, you allowed him to continue up the stairs to take a hot shower. It was how he always relaxed at work, and you knew how stressful his job could be, how important it was... and the fact he had to do it every day with all four of his brothers, you could imagine how annoying that would be.

You loved his siblings, just like they were your own, but they fought all the time, especially Ivar and Sigurd. There was nothing the two of them could disagree on and be salty over. So, you understood when he would not want to talk the first hour. The first time you had prodded had not turned out pretty, despite the fact you knew it would only rile him up more, he had snapped at you like he would of wanted to do to his brothers all day. Of course, he felt horrible about it later, but you understood and you apologized.

As you heard the water turn on upstairs, you went back to sitting on the couch, sipping your warm drink, going back to enjoying your book. Perhaps it was best to wait and tell him what you had brought home.

Grinning lightly, your thoughts wondered back to the little puffball that was roaming around your house, probably curled up on a bed, or sleeping in a basket of dirty clothes.

You and Ubbe had talked so many times about getting a pet, thinking that it might be nice for you when you would be home alone for long hours of the day. It would give you a companion, one he wouldn’t have to worry too much about being home alone with you. One you could easier defend yourself against if something bad were to happen. But, for some reason, you just couldn’t find the right one to take home... and this little thing roaming in the rain seemed perfect as it mewled at you with large eyes and sopping fur.

A very feminine scream erupting from upstairs had you tossing your coffee mug in shock, watching it shatter and you glanced up towards the stairs, your heart racing. Suddenly, it was followed by a irritated shout of your name and you flushed, next hearing: “No, no, don’t bite me down there!”

Hvitserk:

Tonight must of been one of those nights at the company, Hvitserk calling you and asking you to come pick him up, he must of been sneaking whiskey in his coffee again to keep calm. You were just glad he never decided to drive home when he decided to do that, choosing to call you as his DD.

Pulling up to the large building, you sat for a few minutes, glancing at your clock every so often. Really? He always chided you on not being late, but you could have stopped at the Taco Bell line during dinner rush and ate a party box by now, and now a whole 30 minutes had passed. Luckily, you had something to keep you busy.

Looking up at the sound of a car unlocking, you watched his oldest brother Bjorn making his way towards his sleek vehicle. The man didn’t miss you though, flashing you a smile before hoping inside, starting up and driving away. He was probably excited to get home to Torvi and their kids. These guys worked so much, and so hard, especially after their father passed away. You were proud of Hvitserk for the shit he put up with.

Playing some tunes, you even watched Ivar roll out of the building, but still there was no sign of your husband, and that worried you a bit. Usually he was the second out, trying to run away from the two youngest as quick as possible before he would have to help break up a fight.

Ready to unbuckle, despite the soaked squirming ball in your lap, you yelped in shock as you heard a voice through the open passenger window: “Why is there a kitten in your lap, sugar?”

Gaining back your wits from your mini-heart attack, your nails lightly raked through the wet fur. “Why isn’t there a kitten in your lap, boo?”

“Because I’m standing.”

“Touche’.” Even drunk, he was still a sarcastic asshat.

Jumping into the car, he shut the door and immediately leaned his chair back so he could stretch out, arm laying across his face. You didn’t ask, you knew if he wanted to talk about it he would. You didn’t even bother to stop the kitten as it crawled from your lap to his, and you heard him sigh lightly. “These are 300 dollar pants...”

Sigurd:

If there was one thing for sure, it was that Sigurd could not read a map to save his life. Honestly, it surprised you that you did you made it this far without getting into an accident, or killing anyone, with you have to take the map from him and fix it. But, his driving made you extremely anxious from how slow he was. You encouraged safe driving, of course, but he was like a hundred year old woman when it came to the highway, and his turns were way too wide. He was lucky you could multi-task.

Even though the highway wasn’t too busy as it was very early on a Saturday morning, he would still make a noise of discomfort every time you would stare at the map for too long, to which you would make it even worse by looking away from the road directly to glare at him. You had eyes all around your head, damn him.

Finally on the right path, you did decide to slow down a little bit to cruise as it was raining out, and you didn’t feel like going head first into a tree if a deer were to run out in front of you.

“Oh!” Sigurd let out, causing your brows to furrow.

“What?” You questioned, glancing over at him, noticing how he was trying to look out the back of the car at something behind you.

“I thought I saw a kitten — “

There was no hesitation in the way you immediately jerked the car to the side, making a quick illegal turn in the middle of the road, listening as he screamed at you about driving laws and putting your lives in danger. “I have to go back!”

“It;s a highway!” He reminded you, trying to grab at you as you swatted his hands away, trying to unbuckle and get out. “You can’t just run across it to grab a cat!”

“That mothers adrenaline is kicking in, Sigurd!” You yelled, literally kicking the door open and he quickly followed, still trying to stop you before it was too late. Your yell turned into a scream: “I can see every equation!”

Ivar:

Things had been surprisingly quiet that night, despite the argument you held with Ivar about an hour ago. Usually, after fighting, he would have trouble letting it go and leaving you alone, making snide remarks here and there, and you try to ignore them, but usually it ended up not working that way. It usually ended with the both of you sprawled out on the kitchen floor, completely naked and drenched in sweat, giving each other small smiles.

This time, despite the fact it was a blow-up over the smallest thing, but he was being completely selfish over the matter. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. It was just something so small, and he wouldn’t even be taking care of it anyway. It was there to keep you company when he was at work, and in the process, you had been helping it as well.

On your way back from the grocery store, you had found a little kitten in the middle of the road, shivering and looking scared for it’s life. So, you took it home, and Ivar was no happy about it at all.

Now you were sitting by yourself in the living room, busying yourself with a book and your fiance’ was distancing himself from you in the kitchen. Where the kitten was, you didn’t know. You figured it was probably checking out the house, but that thought went away when you heard something breaking in the kitchen. A feeling of dread quickly ran through you as fast as it left, knowing that he wouldn’t of done something to the animal but you were off the couch and in the kitchen in seconds, running over to it and picking it up. You noticed him watching you, as you coo’d to the little baby, looking it over to make sure it was okay, and you just barely saw his eye narrow slightly.

After making sure the little one was okay, you sat it down on the floor, far away from the broken glass and you proceeded to clean it up. Almost done with the task, you paused hearing the same noise again. Looking over your shoulder slowly, you saw Ivar with his hand out and another glass on the floor, his face dead of all emotion. “I can break things too,” He decided to remind you.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards.

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