#domestic fluff to soothe my aching soul | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

touyasdoll · 2 years

Note

ooh this is fun!! maybe touya and 🪴🏠💐🦋👩‍👧

- 🍄

ooh I like this one!! okay, okay. so listen. it’s fluffy. that’s there. pure domestic fluff <3 but also..my brain wanted to go a lil angsty with this, so I did both. alternative unhappy ending under the cut.

pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x f!reader

warnings: you & Touya have a child together. you can choose to stop reading at the happy ending or explore the unhappy one beneath the read more. warnings for that include: restraints. reader has a dream manipulation quirk. mentions of psychological torture.

Warm. It’s warm in this room. In this bed.

Touya isn’t sure where he is, but he knows that the bed is comfortable, at least. He can’t quite seem to open his eyes yet though. Is he trapped in another nightmare? Stuck partway in a bad dream that he has to claw his way out of?

Anxious as ever to open his eyes, he tosses and turns, willing his body to wake and catch up with his mind. He has to know where he is, has to asses the situation. His eyelids finally decide to cooperate and then he understands.

He’s home. With you, laying peacefully beside him. You’re a welcome vision for his still tired eyes. He has no idea how much sleep he’s managed to get. Truth be told, he doesn’t even recall going to bed last night though, so he must have been exhausted.

This bed is warm, but not in the way that he is. This warmth doesn’t come from him. It isn’t the type to spiral out of control. To burn. To ruin.

No, this warmth comes from you. The type to soothe stubborn aches, fill starving bellies, and mend fractured souls.

He rolls onto his side, the staples on one side of his face leaving indents in his pillow while those on the other tug upwards in a tender smile. He could stare at you for hours, happily admiring your beauty and the lack of worry that too often distorted your features.

All that worry courtesy of him, of course.

“Mommy! Daddy!” A boisterous giggle echoed down the hall, accompanied by the sound of small, scampering feet.

Well, maybe not all him.

Your daughter, the only other person that Touya knew he truly loved, was through the door not a moment later. The four year old fell into another fit of giggles as she catapulted herself onto the bed, landing in the bit of space between you two.

“Well, good morning,” you murmur, having been awoken by her intrusion. You smile at her, leaning down to kiss her forehead before stretching a little further to kiss Touya’s lips.

“Mornin’, doll,” he replies as he chases your lips, a lazy grin upon his own. “Mornin’, princess,” he ruffles the little girl’s hair as he sits up to pull her into his arms. “What do y—,” his inquiry about what she might want for breakfast is cut off by a sudden gasp.

“Daddy, look!” She exclaims, pointing excitedly at the tulips planted in the window box outside the bedroom. “It’s a blue butterfly! I thought they were all orange!”

Touya turns his attention to what she’s gesturing at and a soft chuckle rumbled forth from his chest.

“Yeah, butterflies come in all kinds of colors. There’s yellow, white, purple,” he shrugs. “Some are orange, some are blue.”

“Ooh, like fire?” Her eyes light up as she makes the connection, proud of her own observation while she looks to her dad for confirmation. “‘Cause fire’s usually orange, but yours is blue! Right?”

You slowly sit up in bed as you watch his features soften even further. Even after all these years, the pure adoration with which he looked at your child never failed to tug at your heart strings.

“Yeah, like mine,” he nods, his voice as delicate as tissue paper as he murmurs the words into his hair to kiss her forehead.

“Blue butterflies are my new favorite then,” she affirms as she winds her arms around his neck to give him a squeeze.

He glances at you and it’s easy to decipher that you’re both thinking the same thing. How did you get so lucky?

His eyes fall closed again while he savors the warmth that he is so, so grateful that you’ve managed to pass onto your daughter.

Cold. The cold chill of the air is all that he can feel when his eyes snap open again.

A draft blows through the rundown ruins that he found himself in. It was dark and damp. A quick look around the sparsely lit place leads him to believe he’s was somewhere he did not want to be. Somewhere abandoned, he was willing to bet.

He moves to raise his hand, to summon a light that could assist him in seeing through the darkness, but he finds himself unable to do either. His wrists are bound behind his back and he can’t beckon a single flame to the surface of his skin.

The frantic ring of metal clanging against metal echoes throughout the room, the ominous nature of the vacant space soon has a cold sweat breaking out across his body.

The click of boots traveling across the room catches his attention immediately. The air was no longer ominous. It was explicitly threatening.

“You got a fucking death wish?” He snarls, his whole body struggling against the chair he found himself confined to.

That’s when he realizes that his ankles are chained too. Despite this, he tries to shake loose, desperately trying to free himself or even just a limb. Anything to feel like he might be able to turn this situation around.

“Oh, don’t struggle,” a voice calls out from the darkness, it’s distant, but definitely drawing nearer to him. “It’s embarrassing, honestly.”

It’s you. But he was just…

Is this a dream? A horrendous nightmare? Had he fallen back to sleep?

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” You sneer as you approach, the consistent click of your footsteps sound more and more like the tick of a time-bomb with each determined step.

“Or maybe you have a few butterflies in your stomach. What color are they? Blue or orange?”

The thin rays of moonlight that peek through the boarded up window cast directly over your eyes, highlighting the disdain behind them.

No. This wasn’t a dream. This was reality. It was all coming back to him now.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks through gritted teeth, hoping to hide the emotion in his voice. “You’re fucking with my head now?”

It had all felt so real. Everything he ever wanted was right there. Everything he thought that he could never have.

He’d thought right, apparently. Because there you stood, the love for him that you’d once held in your eyes had been replaced with scorn.

But of course, that was his fault too.

He had pushed you away yet again. One too many times now, so it seems. Everyone has their breaking point and he reckons that he finally found yours.

“Me? Fucking with your head?” You toss your head back and laugh, but it’s isn’t that warm, inviting melody that he so often replayed in his mind.

This was different. This was unhinged. As he surveyed his unfortunate situation, he slowly came to the realization that he had not only found your breaking point, he’d pushed you straight off the ledge.

And now you’re prepared to drag him over the cliff with you.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet, Touya,” you utter menacingly, walking closer still until you can catch his jaw in your hand.

His expression reads defiant, but you can see the flicker of fear residing behind the facade. He knew what you were capable of.

And you knew the torment his regular nightmares had on him. You’d once been a reprieve, able to quell the terrors that plagued him at night and replace them with pleasant thoughts or even blissfully dreamless sleep. You blessed him with years of peaceful rest that he hadn’t know for most of his regrettable existence.

And he’d fucked it up, time and time again, over the fear of losing you. Pushed you away, thinking he was sparing you, when he was just hurting you both needlessly. How unoriginally ironic.

“I’m going to show you your greatest dreams,” you say more softly, an almost kind expression filling your features as you look into his eyes.

For a moment, he wonders if maybe he can get out of this. Maybe he can fix things again. Surely, you still love him, deep down, don’t you? A gentle soul like you surely did.

The devilish grin that replaces your mysterious smile insists otherwise.

“And then I’m going to burn them to the ground. I’ll show you everything that could have been. Every little hope you were generous enough to let me in on. I’ll give it to you.”

If you still harbored love for him, it clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop you now. The look in your eyes was one too easy to recognize for someone like him. Vengeful. Determined. Unhinged.

“And then I’m going to rip all that hope and happiness right out from beneath your feet. Let you fall into the pit that I plucked you out of and let you burn to ash just like everything else you’ve ever laid your deceitful, ruinous hands on. I’ll show you your worst nightmares. Subject you to each one of your greatest fears. Over and over and over again. Until you don’t know who you are anymore. Until you’ve been ruined the same way that you have ruined me.”

“Doll,” he exhales, his voice trembling as a crimson tear slips over his cheek. “Please. I love you. You know that I do.”

“And I love you, darling, but it’s too late for that, Dabi. You said it yourself, the last time you left. Remember?”

You lean in closer, lips nearly brushing his as you stare into his terror-filled orbs.

“Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

#sorry I would post the read more higher but I wanted to do both ideas somehow <3 #just playin’ a game 📬#ask game drabble 📝#dabi #touya #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader

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duskholland · 3 years

Text

The Box || Tom Holland

summary ↠ you feel a mysterious object in tom’s pocket... word count ↠ 4.2k. warnings ↠ mildly suggestive, but this is just some very easy domestic fluff :’) a/n ↠ this is a rewrite of a fic I wrote back in 2018! I sat down just to edit it, but I ended up adding 2.5k and changing most of it. lmao. it’s very cute though. very gentle. I was in a proper state after watching cherry, and working on this soothed my soul <3 hope you like it!

if you want to read the original version of this fic, you can find the link for it here <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wake up to an empty bed and immediately get the suspicion that something is amiss. The sheets are pulled down, the duvet crumpled, and the mattress cool. As you draw your tired fingers over the space beside you, a soft pout finds your lips.

Tom’s away so often that he rarely skips out on the opportunity to cuddle you in the morning, and if he does, he’s always attentive in the way he pulls the duvet to your chin and tucks you in. He knows you hate to be cold, so he’d never usually jump out of bed so recklessly, leaving behind his uncovered side and your leg sticking out the duvet.

Perplexed, you yawn as you sit up. A quick glance at your phone confirms that it’s still early, and you find your confusion about your boyfriend’s disappearance quickly turning into concern. With a furrow to your brow, you slowly get out of bed, groaning softly as your tired limbs stretch and click. There’s an ache between your legs that makes you bite your lip, memories of the night before flittering through your mind like polaroids. You see flashes of a rose-tinted Tom, kissing up your thighs, panting into your shoulder, moaning sweet words of praise against your lips. He’d made you dinner, then laid you down, and you’d felt like the only person in the world as he’d cupped your cheeks and shown how much he loved you.

After pulling on a pair of leggings and a jumper, you find your curious feet taking you off in the direction of the living room. You hear Tom before you see him—the sounds of socks dragging over plush carpet filling the air. He’s pacing, half-naked, thick arms crossed over his bare chest as a few fingers stroke his chin. He’s in a thick pair of fuzzy purple socks, and rounding off the ensemble are some simple grey sweats.

When your boyfriend reaches the other side of the living room, he pivots and starts to walk back towards you, gaze vacant and fixed on the floor. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that you haven’t seen in a while, the valley between his brows pronounced and deep. Stress is obvious in every single part of his person, and it makes you so concerned that you decide to shatter his reverie.

With a gentle clear of your throat, you step forwards.

“Tom?” you say, voice soft. Your eyes widen as he startles, head snapping up, loose brown curls springing through the air. “Baby, are you okay?”

He blinks at you for a few moments, seeming to shake off the daydream as his lips pull into an instinctive smile. When he meets your eyes, the nerves on Tom’s face start to melt. He gives you a tight nod as he walks towards you, folding into your outstretched arms and immediately burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m fine,” he vibrates, voice dark and husky like it always is in the morning. “Are you?”

You cup the back of his head with your palm, dragging your fingers through his curls in a way that soothes him. He’s so warm, his arms strong as they wind around your waist and hold you in a tight hug. Your heart beats a little faster at his question. He’s always been so attentive, even in times like these where it’s clear that he’s significantly worse off than you.

“I’m okay,” you respond. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he releases a quiet sound of approval, snuggling closer. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” You pause for a few moments, hesitating. “Is something wrong? Is this about last night?”

You know that Tom loves you. He shows you every single day that he adores you. He leaves your special mug out by the kettle, brings home your favourite snacks from the shops, does your dreaded household tasks unprompted. He looks after you when you’re ill, has all the names of your extended family memorised, and always does his best to coax a smile onto your face. His love for you is as obvious as the stars that twinkle in the sky.

Yet, he left you alone, and he’s stressed, and even as you’re voicing your concerns, you can feel him tug himself free from your embrace. It’s hard not to focus on the loosening of his arms and think about his odd behaviour from the last few days. Tom’s been on his phone more, acting scatter-brained and nervous. You don’t doubt his love, but with his life as hectic as it is, you worry about him.

“Last night?” Tom says. He pulls back, warm hands falling to your waist as he peers at you, shaking his head. “Darling.” He frowns. “Last night was amazing.” His lips pull into a slight smirk as he squeezes your hips, eyes glinting a shade darker. “I had fun. Didn’t you?”

You press a light kiss to his cheek, shifting both of your hands to cup his face. His skin is so soft beneath your fingertips. “I had a nice time,” you agree, pushing back the memories before you can get too lost in them. “You’ve been stressed recently,” you observe, treading gently. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

Tom closes his eyes, inhaling a quick breath. “Yeah... I know. I… Yeah. I’m fine.”

You play with a few strands of his hair, trying not to frown too much. “Are you sure?”

He pries open an eye, the honeyed hues of brown bringing you a sense of comfort. “I’m a little stressed at the moment. I have to do something today, and I… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, love… A lot.” He breaks into a breathless chuckle, swallowing nervously. “It’ll be fine. I know it will, but I… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Tom’s gaze shadows a little, and he swallows. “You do… You do love me, don’t you?”

“You have to know how much of a silly question that is.”

Tom bites at his lip as he sheepishly averts his gaze. “Yeah…” He’s sly as he gently pushes forwards to kiss your cheek. “‘Know you really loved me last night,” he rasps into your ear.

You roll your eyes, but you’re glad to see there’s some colour coming back to his cheeks. “What are you doing that’s got you so nervous?”

“Oh… Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Tom looks a little perkier now as he glances at you. “Nothing,” he repeats. “Well, a secret,” he clarifies. “I can’t tell you yet.”

Immediately you pout. “But why?” you whine, pulling your hands away from his face. “You can’t say all that and then not tell me what you’re doing.”

“Yes, I can.” He grins as he steps back, only leaving you once he’s kissed your lips. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “I love you. So much, darling.”

“I know,” you respond, tilting your head to the side as you look at him curiously. “I love you too.”

“Good. Good…” Tom steps back, briefly glancing behind you to the living room wall. His eyes widen as he looks at the clock. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I need to go.”

Tom runs away before you have a chance to catch him, stumbling back into the bedroom as he mutters something about finding some clothes. You decide to leave him to it, a yawn reminding you of how early it still is. You wonder for a moment why he hadn’t mentioned he had an early call time last night, but he’s been so all over the place recently that it doesn’t surprise you.

As you wait for Tom to re-emerge, you walk over into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle. You can hear him whistling to himself through all the open doors, and the melody mixes with the sound of your teaspoon bumping against the ceramic of your mug. It’s your favourite one—Tom had brought it back from Paris for you.

You’ve just settled at the kitchen table when Tom bursts back into the room, properly clothed and considerably more at ease. His hair is a little wild, but he’s in a pair of jeans and a lilac hoodie, and he wears his smile with confidence.

“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous this morning, darling?” Tom murmurs. He springs across to you, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter as he goes. When he reaches you, he tightly cups your cheeks and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Because you are, y’know? The most beautiful woman in the world.”

You chuckle as you sit back in your chair, cheeks aching from your dopey smile. “Thank you,” you respond. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”

Tom pulls on his jacket and then reaches down, stealing your mug of tea and taking a long sip before you have time to warn him about how hot it still is. You watch as he splutters, cheeks burning red as he releases a yelp of pain.

“Fucking hell!” he yells, cursing a little more as he puts the mug back down. Tom sticks out his tongue, tenderly reaching up to poke at the tip as he winces. “Ow,” he whines, the word garbled around his open mouth. “It hurts.”

He looks very sweet standing there, and for a moment, you wonder how it’s possible to love someone so much. Your affections smother your chest, and you almost choke up as you’re briefly overcome with a sensation of utter adoration. It’s so intense that it almost hurts, but it aches in the most wonderful way.

You stand quickly and press a soft kiss to the tip of Tom’s tongue. He smiles and retracts it, chasing after your lips until he’s able to kiss you.

“It’s Harrison’s birthday party tonight,” Tom says as he steps back, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back from set at 9, then we can go. Is that still okay?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “Have a good day doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

He smirks elusively, then presses a final peck to your cheek before turning towards the porch. “Bye!” Tom pauses in the doorway to look back and send you a few air kisses, and you pucker your lips and send a couple back. The front door closes with a gentle click, and your smile lingers on.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think about Tom’s behaviour all day, flipping between confusion and adoration as easily as the wind changes its mind. When 5pm rolls around, you find your way back home, and you spend a few hours milling around before you get ready for the event.

With your dress on and your bag slung over your shoulder, you wait in the porch for Tom to pull up, scrolling through your phone with a crease between your brows. Time is ticking, and with every second your boyfriend fails to show, the nearer you get to being late for the party.

When there’s a bright burst of light and the crunching of gravel, you glance up to see Tom’s headlights douse the driveway to your house. You’re surprised when he clambers from the car instead of jauntily honking the horn as he’s taken such an irritating liking to doing. You watch him mess around with his jeans before hurrying along the front path, pushing open the front door a moment later and startling when he sees you waiting.

“Oh!” he exclaims wide-eyed. His hand drifts down to rest over the left pocket of his jeans. “You’re here?”

You pull a face. “Yes? Hello to you too.”

Tom grunts as he moves forward to kiss you hastily, jumping back when you try to pull at his waist and bring him nearer. As you’re left baffled by his behaviour again, he seems to swallow down a lump in his throat.

“Hi,” he corrects, smiling nervously. “I, uh… I’m going to go and change.”

You wince. “We don’t have time,” you point out, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve. You turn around, reaching back to pluck one of Tom’s stylish jackets from a peg. You offer it to him with a smile. “Try this,” you suggest. “We really need to go, though, Tom. Haz won’t let us live it down if we’re late to another one of his parties.”

Tom hesitates. You watch as he digs his hand into his left pocket, clucking his tongue. “I… Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” His eyes flutter back to the main body of your house, but his reluctance fades when you nod and peck him on the cheek. He easily pulls off his hoodie before replacing it with the jacket, the red of the smart coat complementing his black t-shirt.

“C’mon,” you urge. “Do you want me to drive?”

He begrudgingly follows you out of the house, locking up behind you both before slipping into the passenger seat. As you navigate the roads, Tom keeps you company, nurturing a constant dialogue as he chats to you. He avoids all of your questions about his day and his mysterious engagement, redirecting everything you say into a comment about you and your activities. It’s cute how much he cares, but you get a distinct feeling that he’s trying to distract you.

Harrison’s birthday party is being held in a bar in central London, and you find him easily amongst the throes of people. Tom’s holding onto your hand, standing back, quieter, as you pass over your gift to his best friend with a smile on your face.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” you exclaim, beaming at the man. Harrison kisses your cheek as he grins, cheeks flushed from the booze and warm atmosphere. When Tom is noticeably quiet beside you, you squeeze his hand and glance back at him, raising a brow.

“Oh,” Tom mutters, blinking a few times. “Sorry,” he adds. “Happy birthday, Harrison.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “‘S alright, mate. You already passed on your congratulations earlier. Thanks, though.”

Your friend is pulled away by his sister a few moments later, leaving you with a confused furrow to your brow. You turn around to look at Tom, tilting your head to the side.

“Wait, when did you see Harrison?” you ask. “Weren’t you at work today?”

Tom reels you in by the hands, knocking his lips up against yours and disrupting your words. “Doesn’t matter,” he soothes, rolling his fingers gently across the sides of your face. “Let’s just have a good party, yeah?”

You melt into him with ease. “Okay,” you agree. His lips are warm and seductive as he kisses you again, deeper, harder, stronger.

Something is in the air. As a pair, you make a few rounds of the party, but somehow, you always end up huddled in a back corner together. As the alcohol flows and your friends around you get less and less observant, it happens more often. It isn’t long until Tom’s tugging you down onto a secluded armchair in the corner of the artsy bar. Your lips find home in his, slotting together as they always do.

As you shift in his lap, part of you feels guilty for blowing off Harrison’s birthday, but another part—a darker, hungrier part—demands you stay exactly where you are. You’re awfully comfortable with Tom’s hands on your hips and your legs spread over his thighs, content with the shadowy lighting leaving you secluded from the rest of them.

“Oh god,” Tom moans, speaking against your lips as he kisses you between laboured breaths. “Fuckin’ perfect woman, eh?”

You suck on his lower lip, smirking as you feel him whine. He discreetly grinds up into you, and you bite back a whimper. “Tom,” you whisper. You move your mouth to his ear, stroking your fingers through his curls as you brush your lips over his tender skin. “We shouldn’t do this here. We can’t go home just yet.”

He groans, head dropping down to your collarbones. When you expect him to agree and help you up, Tom instead seems to decide that his time would be better spent marking up your neck. Your pulse roars through your ears as he takes time licking and sucking and biting your skin, stretching from the base of your neck all the way up, up, up, soft lips suckling below your ear. By the time he reaches your face, you’re squirming, heat pounding in your body as desire replaces any wish to stay at the party.

“We should just go home,” Tom pants, lips red and inflamed. Your fingers drag over them until he uses his tongue to lick over the pad of your thumb. “I can’t take being here.” His voice drops down to a low grumble as he shifts in the chair, “‘m so hard, sweetheart.”

Wanting to feel for yourself, you shuffle up his lap, eyebrows furrowing together when instead of feeling his hardness, your knee knocks against something firm lodged where his pocket is. Confusion replaces lust as you tilt your head to the side. “Wait, what’s that?” you muse, unable to believe that his arousal has manifested itself in his jean pocket. Intrigued, you poke the object, pressing harder as your brows furrow.

Tom’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no, that’s something else.” His hands go down to your waist as he tries to gently push you off his lap. “Just ignore it.”

But your curiosity has been piqued, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached up and dug your fingers into his tight jean pocket. It’s dim and dark in your secluded corner, and you find yourself squinting as you bring the small object closer. Too focused on your task to hear Tom’s noises of panic, you pull it up into the air. As the first dredges of realisation wash over you, you’ve got it half-open, and it’s too late to stop yourself.

There is a glistening engagement ring embedded inside the silky black box, glinting magnificently.

Your jaw drops.

A few moments pass in silence, the air between you being filled by the songs coming from the bar. Your thumb wanders absently over the edge of the jewel as you peer at it, heart throbbing in the back of your throat. Guilt twists into you, mixing with your excitement and your shock, and you look up at Tom, tears pooling in your eyes.

He’s looking at you, nerves written all over his face. His teeth are bared, and his eyes are wide with shock, every inch of him seized up and tense. When Tom sees your tearful expression, he blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he tenderly reaches up to cup your face in a hand.

“Darling…” he starts, voice softer than before. He drums his index finger over your temple as he manages a tense smile. “What’s going on up here?”

You open and shut your mouth a few times before finally finding the words.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, voice thick. “I…” You take a breath, looking away. Your mind starts to spin, suddenly kicking back to life as you recover yourself. “Wait… Why have you got this in your pocket? Did… Oh. Did you get this today?”

Everything makes sense. His nerves all week, his pacing this morning. The fact he’d left suspiciously early and met up with Harrison without you. Tom’s conflict when you’d pushed him out the door instead of letting him enter your house and stash the little black box before leaving for the party.

“Yeah,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. His chest is rising and falling quickly, his jaw still tense. “What do you think? Do… Do you like it?”

You nod wordlessly before looking up at him, lower lip wobbling. “I ruined it,” you lament. You fall forward, groaning as you rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder. He chuckles, dusting the top of your head with light kisses as he hums.

“You didn’t,” he assures you. “I’m just a twat and didn’t hide it properly.” He falls silent for a few moments, warm hands wandering your back. “Y/N, darling… You… You would want to get married though, yeah?” His voice is light and high-pitched and full of so much uncertainty it makes you bolt upright.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. You balance the box between you and reach up to take his face in your hands, admiring his handsome features with your fingers. “I would love to marry you,” you whisper. You feel yourself well with emotions again, but you let them build. You don’t mind if he sees you vulnerable.

Tom releases a deep breath, his own face twitching as relief ripples across his eyes in the form of light tears. He leans closer and kisses you very gently, his mouth soft and tender as if he’s savouring it. When Tom pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, the tip of his nose cool against yours.

“I love you so much,” he says slowly. “Every day, I wake up beside you, and I wonder what I did right to deserve being loved by someone as wonderful as you. I hate being away from you, and I think about you all the time.” Tom cracks a soft smile, his voice quivering. With trembling fingers, he reaches between you both and picks the box from between you both.

You gasp softly as he pulls back, squeezing your hip softly before holding the box out in front of you. The diamonds sparkle, blurred by your tears.

“Y/N… I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and I know this is sudden, and I know you deserve a proposal a thousand times more romantic than… than at Harrison’s fucking party, but I can’t wait another moment.” He swallows as he pulls the ring from the bed of silk. Tom’s gaze is unwavering as he looks back to you, speaking passionately. “There’s nothing else I want in life apart from you. I promise that I will love you for the rest of my life, darling, if only you’ll let me. So…” Tom’s lips pull into a small smile. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

The world stops, and everything fades until it’s just you and Tom and the ring held between you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, two stray tears dripping down your face.

“Tom… You could ask me to marry you anywhere, and I’d say the same thing.” Your heart pounds in your ears. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”

Tom releases a strangled sound of relief, and you both look down as he hurries to push the ring down your finger. It’s cool against your skin, but before looking at it, you find yourself leaning in to kiss him. Both of you are smiling, and you think he’s crying too. His hand shakes as he holds yours, and when you pull away to admire the ring, Tom loops both arms around your waist.

“It’s so pretty,” you muse. You roll your thumb across the glittering gem. You feel so warm inside your chest. “Did you pick this out yourself?”

Tom makes a noise of disagreement. He cuddles in closer, burying his face in your neck and leaving a few soft kisses to your skin.

“Haz helped, and so did mum. Thought she’d have better ideas than him.” Tom pauses, and you feel him smirk against your neck. “I was right.”

Your heart softens a little at the revelation. “Do you think he’ll be upset that we’ve upstaged him at his party?”

Tom peels back from your neck, pressing his lips to your jaw as he chuckles. “Let’s...maybe not mention it tonight.”

You run your hand through his hair, eyes catching on the way the diamond cascades with shards of light. “Okay,” you agree. You lean closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you sure you’re not mad I ruined this?”

Tom shakes his head. “Absolutely not, love. If anything, this just makes it more special.” He shoots you a toothy grin. “Don’t know what I’ll do with all the stuff I bought to use in the proposal, though.”

You smirk softly. “Well, who says you can’t do two proposals?” you say, intending for it to be a tease, only to widen your eyes when Tom’s entire face lights up. “Wait— babe, I was kidding, you don’t need to do another—”

“Shhh.” Tom cuts you off with a kiss. “Pretend that this conversation never happened.”

“What, even the proposal—”

“No.” He’s grinning, eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me.”

Your lips twitch as you give him a slight nod. “Yeah. And you’re marrying me.” Tom kisses you again, and you fall back into his lap with ease. For a few moments, you make out with him, the temperature in your body rising until you remember what started off the conversation, an eternity ago. “Can we go home now, Tom?”

He’s a little slow to respond as he chases your lips, but the smile you share feels like dawn breaking for the first time.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll take you home, fiancé.”

And you like the sound of that. You really like the sound of that.

“Okay, fiancé.”

Judging by the unstoppable grin that finds Tom’s face as he hears you speak, you have a feeling that he likes the sound of it too.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:’))) im going to be rewriting/reworking a few of my older fics! if there are any in particular you’d like to see refreshed, lmk?

lmk what you thiiiiink !!! <3<3<3<3

masterlist + taglist through the link in my bio wahey :D

#have you guys ever burnt your tongue on tea? one of the worst experiences ever #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #boyfriend!tomfic #tom.sfw #fluff #i wrote the party scene whilst watching a stream last night and when i tell you it was A Mess . i fixed it tho #in a long term commitment mood 2day

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icyymocha · 3 years

Text

Falling Like The Stars

Pt. 2,

warnings: Fluff. Lots of Fluff. Bits of angst.

Word Count: 2,040

pairings: Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary: Bucky wonders how you would act as a mother if you and he had kids of your own. Bucky blushed at the thought. You would be such a good mother to your own kids. A possessive feeling was deep down in his stomach he knew all too well. Maybe….Just maybe….Would you like to start a family? No, no, no, he knew you would like to start a family. But, would you like to start a family with him?

Hesitant to voice out his opinion, afraid that this moment so surreal and domesticated would be gone in an instant and he would be brought back to the sinister hallways. A hell place that forced him to become a sadistic monster. The screams and cries of pain, torture, and never-ending abuse of Hydra plagued and tainted him. Bucky shivered at the thought of being in that hell hole, he couldn’t bear it any longer. He couldn’t even think about the thought of Hydra forcing you to endure what he had to go through. No, he would never allow hydra to steal you away from him, not once would he let them take you away and be used to their benefits. You’re too pure, and someone who has a corrupted soul like him shouldn’t be allowed to be with you. But here he is—with you.

With you by his side, guiding him in the right direction. You pull him so close as you both snuggle underneath the weight of many blankets on the couch; you guided him home. Bucky couldn’t help but feel soft. He cherished—no, he loved little moments like these. Where it’s just you and him. Your little snores and relaxed breathing soothes his, rather, internal demons that claw through his mind, etching to be heard. To scream out for wanting blood. Bucky doesn’t honestly know how you can calm down the voices in his head. It’s as if you held a command in his brain. He knew you would never implant a chip in his mind, you’re too soft and too good for him to do so.

Flowing like the river with grace and beauty, Bucky embraces your warmth as if he was starved for days. He pulls you in so close, you can hear his heart beating hastily. To him, it didn’t feel like the haunting of his nightmares or the blood that stains his hand as he feels himself being guided by the river he knows. This time, the river felt as if an old friend; comfort. It made him feel safe within the river when all he knew was the angry cries and screams and the blood that washes away in Fury's instance of the icy water.

His inner demons were clawing at his head right now. He can’t think or sense what his directions are. All Bucky could see at the moment was the blind rage of red but he couldn’t move for some reason. His breath was shaky and heavy, he needed to move otherwise Bucky is going to crumple anything that gets in his way. He needs to find a way to stop the voices to stop screaming. His thoughts and the voices swelled in silence feeling an intruder at his side. Bucky whipped his head to the side to see you all curled up to his left arm, the cold metal arm giving you some type of coolness against the hotness of many blankets that surrounds you.

Bucky’s eyes were soft and gentle. He carefully pushed back a few strands of hair behind your ear, you always found a way to make room in his ice steel heart. Somehow, you always calmed down the voices, he can hear the voices coos, and whispers as they talk about you, and only you. every part of him was hot. It was too overwhelming how much love Bucky felt whenever he’s with you. He never wanted to let go. Slowly, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, letting you fall into his chest as if you’re the missing puzzle piece to his puzzle map. The moment was relaxing until you stirred in your sleep, Bucky froze. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, snuggling in your boyfriend’s body warmth. A smile etched onto your face as you look up at Bucky.

“Hey there bubs, what’s on your mind?” Drowsiness in your tone, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Bucky grunted in approval. His shoulders are visibly relaxing.

“Mm ‘s nothing Doll,” he whispered. Rubbing your back and down, wrapping his metal arm around your waist, flushing you even closer than ever.

Sitting straight up, the blanket falling off your shoulders. You tilted your head and a pout formed on your face. Your hair is messy. Bucky couldn’t help but coo at the sight.

“It’s nothing when you’re breathing heavily and you’re being tensed beside me,” you said, intertwining his fleshed hand with yours. Kissing each knuckle of his.

Bucky sighed

“I’ve been thinking…” he said in thought

You’d waited patiently with him. Anytime he was like this, you’re always there by his side, always waiting patiently. He was thankful for how patient and understanding you were. It made him trust you and ensured him that you won’t be leaving out of his life, or at least he hopes so.

“After what hydra did to me, how much shit I had to go through. With you by my side, even after so many fights, breakdowns, and moments between us. I still can’t process how you’re still with me. Just you here is shocking for me…” Bucky said quietly, his voice dried from crying silently.

Your eyes were full of love as Bucky peered into your eyes. Shifting in Bucky’s hold to sit in his lap, you held his face in your hands. Kissing the tears away, you raked your fingers through his short disheveled hair. Caressing so tenderly, Bucky leaned closer. Your touches were so light and feathery that he couldn’t help but lean into it, wanting more.

“No matter how much you had gone through, no matter how you think you are broken inside or out. I’ll always, always, be there with you by your side.” You promised

Feeling so light-headed by how much love Bucky has received from you, he exhales a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. Nuzzling into your neck, he sobs. You waited until he came down from his breakdown, rubbing his back up and down soothingly. Whispering but sweet promises and words into his ear, only for him to hear. You hugged him as tight as you could, knowing how much Bucky needed this. It went on for a while. An hour or so had passed but you didn’t care. As long as you were holding Bucky in your arms, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but comfort him. No matter what, you’re not gonna lose him nor ever leave by his side. Sniffling into your arms, Bucky groaned. Aching from how stiff his muscles are, but he didn’t care. He needed you to hold him tight. He never knew how much closure he needed until he met you.

Just thinking about all the memories Bucky and you had gone through together made his heart swell. He remembers how you would scrunch up after trying out the vodka for the first time when you had an assigned mission by Tony at Russia about some leading evidence. How you would dance in your pajamas in the Stark tower kitchen while jamming to your favorite song as you cook breakfast for yourself. Bucky remembers how you had defended him when the new recruits of shield agents behind his back. How you would prank Sam and Clint whenever you felt mischievous, oh how he helped you pranked them. Bucky smiled watching you laugh at how priceless Sam and Clint’s reactions were and he remembers how he watched you running away as Sam and Clint chased you around. Almost pushing Tony into a wall by accident.

Recalling the memories of you taking care of Sam’s nephews and how caring and motherly you were towards them. You’d always make sure they are properly fed and taken care of whenever Sam took his nephews to visit your guy’s apartment. Bucky saw how much kids meant to you, how you adored each kid you meet. You were such a mother figure, to not only kids but adults as well. He rolled his eyes when he remembered how you were a mother hen towards Tony, Natasha, Bruce, and Loki when they cause such a reckless mess. He could hear how you would always ground them teasingly—with their time-out corner hats. Bucky laughed at the hilarious sight.

Bucky wonders how you would act as a mother if you and he had kids of your own. Bucky blushed at the thought. You would be such a good mother to your own kids. A possessive feeling was deep down in his stomach he knew all too well. Maybe….Just maybe….Would you like to start a family? No, no, no, he knew you would like to start a family. But, would you like to start a family with him? Bucky’s thoughts were cut off when he felt you leaning away from his touch.

“...Mmm’ Doll?” Bucky grunted

You stilled before relaxing. Instinctively reaching out to play with his hair. Bucky grunted in approval.

“Yes, Buck?”

“I need to confess you about something…” Bucky said under his breath. You nodded your head, waiting for him to speak up.

“...” It took a moment but Bucky opened his mouth.

“How would you feel about starting a family, with me that is.”

“We’ve been together for almost five years together and I know how much you’ve talked about wanting to start a family when we grow old but we never founded the right time,”

“I just thought that if you want, we could start trying. I mean...You don’t have to,”

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured or do anything you do want to do—”

You interrupted Bucky with peppering kisses to his face. You teased him; planting kisses anywhere but his lips, Bucky whined. Snickering, you kissed him. Bucky tilted your chin for better access to kiss you, pouring all his love into the kiss. You both pulled away breathlessly, needing a breath for air. You stared at Bucky’s crystal blue eyes with a teary smile on your face. Bucky’s face contorted in concern.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you quickly shouted, startling Bucky. His blue eyes widened.

“Doll... ‘S okay, you don’t have to say feel like you have to say yes because of me” he frowned

You rolled your eyes, bringing Bucky into a chaste kiss. You put your forehead to his and closed your eyes, sighing heavily

“Buck, we’ve been together for almost six years and we’ve been through so much shit together and at first we thought we were going to fall apart but here we are, going at it strong and more determined than we were before.”

“I saw the way you gazed at me whenever I took care of Sam’s nephews whenever Sam had a mission. The way you longed for a family, how you always wanted—for us to start our own family. And I gotta say, as much as I joked about starting a family in the past,”

“I think I’m ready…” You whispered

Inside, you felt relieved and quite cheerful about starting a family with your lover. Just smiling at the thought of having your own kids running around in your guy’s home, something lit up inside of you about becoming a mother. You just knew you guys would be falling like the stars ever since you met those crystal blue eyes across the meeting room with Fury. Placing your hands on his chest, looking down. Bucky crept his hands up, intertwining with yours on his chest near his heart. Bucky felt happy knowing you agreed to start a family with him. His possessive side never felt this happy before and it was soaring hot inside his stomach; along with millions of butterflies fluttering deep down.

“Well why don’t we get started now?” he smirked. His crystal blue eyes darkened.

Standing up, Bucky lifted you off the couch. Your eyes widened in surprised feeling Bucky manhandling you with one arm; tossing you onto his shoulders. You squealed when you felt a hand against your ass. Bucky chuckled as he headed towards your guy’s shared bedroom.

Biting your lip for the anticipation that about to happen in your guy’s bedroom as you sat on the bed with Bucky hovering over your neck with love bites. You couldn’t wait to start a family with him; Bucky more so than you.

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blacktithe7 · 3 years

Text

A Quiet Evening (Bucky x Reader)

Title: A Quite Evening

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: A quiet moment of domestic intimacy is shared between a loving couple.

Word Count: 650

Square Filled: Cooking Together

Warning: sickening fluff

This story is not betaed

Author’s Note: This is my first submission for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. I know I haven’t been around a lot on the fic writing side, but I’m hoping to get a little more worked in here and there in between rounds of editing my novel.

Image not mine

There was something about cooking that just soothed your soul. It was the one thing that never changed. Knowing that combining certain ingredients would always make the same dish made things better somehow on days when it all seemed too much.

Turning away from the kitchen island, you check the pot of water on the stove before turning back to your vegetables. The rhythmic sound of the knife cutting through the onion was like meditation. It took your focus down to one solitary moment and silenced the rest of the chaos floating around in your brain.

A pair of familiar arms encircled your waist, the corner of your mouth curling into the barest hint of a smile as you melted against a solid chest.

“Welcome home.”

Bucky placed a featherlight kiss to the spot where your neck connected to your shoulder.

“Anything I can do to help?”

A groan made its way past your lips when his teeth grazed the column of your throat before soothing the reddened flesh with his tongue.

“Start the pasta for me?”

A hollow ache dotted your chest at the feeling of his arms slipping away. Leaving his embrace was always the hardest task you would undertake. Whether it be simply getting out of bed, or sharing one final moment together before he went away on a mission, you never felt complete without Bucky’s arms around you.

The two of you moved around the kitchen like a pair of dancers. You circled and dipped. Stepped and sashayed around each other while you prepared your special meal.

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, you took one last taste of the sauce.

“Mmm.”

“That good?” Bucky asked, resting his vibrainium hand on your hip.

You held the spoon out to him and watched with unadulterated glee as his eyes closed in pleasure at the taste.

“Damn doll.”

You smiled in appreciation.

“Mind setting the table for me while I finish up?”

Placing a kiss to your forehead, Bucky reached into the cabinet and started grabbing plates and glasses to take to the table.

You took the sauce off the burner and poured it into the clear serving dish filled with pasta resting on the counter. You gave it a good stir, ensuring every strand was coated in your special sauce.

“It’s ready,” you called as you gathered the dish and pasta utensil in hand.

You came around the corner leading to the dining room and froze. A small gasp escaped your lips. Two tall glowing silver candles sat in the middle of the table while tea light candles ringed the room, casting the space in a soft glow.

“Bucky?” you breathed.

He stepped forward, taking the dish from your hands and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I figured we’d do something different tonight,” he whispered as he pulled away.

A smile brighter that all the stars in the heavens took over your face as you watched him carry everything to the table. Your heart swelled. What did I do to deserve this man?

You still hadn’t moved by the time he turned back to face you. Taking your hands in his, he gently led you towards the table. “Happy anniversary, doll.”

The soft touch of his lips against yours was all it took to snap you out of your stupor.

“Happy anniversary baby.”

Pacing your hands gently behind his head, you pulled Bucky towards you. Your lips met his with a passion that threatened to consume you both. Dinner could wait. There was something else you would rather enjoy first.

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yiqiie · 4 years

Text

wangxian fic rec list pt. 3

you can find pt. 1 here and pt. 2 here!

i think it’s about time for another update so here we are again! i have to keep reminding myself to update the notion page every time i bookmark something new so if anyone sees that the notion page is a little quiet for a few days just shoot me an ask and yell at me to update!

i have so many recommendations this time so long post ahead i am sorry! pls reblog if you can! tumblr is always iffy about links and tagging posts so this might not appear in the tags ;;

notion summary page: here (i only put my favourites in this tumblr list, so if you would like even more recommendations, please read the notion summary for basically all of my bookmarks on ao3)

something to make your heart ache

in all my dreams i drown by @idrilka

fluff, light angst, smut, post-cql

trigger warning: mentions of some graphic nightmares

will i ever stop recommending idrilka’s fics? no. this was so perfect bc while i love seeing domestic wangxian just being y’know domestic i love reading fics that examine the consequences being yllz has on wwx and the crucial journey to self-recovery it’s always so beautifully explored in each fic

sweet chaos by @eachandeverydimension

fluff, light angst, cql au, multi-chapter

this was so PERFECT it takes a lot to get me hooked into a slow burn fic bc i’m usually so impatient so when i see anything more than 12 parts i’m already backing away slowly but this had me hooked so FAST and it’s just such a beautiful story of how two people fall in love and the attention to detail is just stunning i love it when people just get chinese heritage and tradition right

the best of you by @fozmeadows

fluff, smut, light angst, modern au, multi-chapter

trigger warning: only for some chapters so pls check the tags and the notes!

lwj looking after wwx is my kink okay and i just wanna wrap him up and give him a kiss in this fic bc he’s just :(((( the domestic wangxian popped OFF here and we are all not ready i just remember binging this fic so fast bc it reads so smoothly and the dialogue between lwj and jzx? fcking comedy gold

花无百日红; the flower that withers by yiqie

fluff, angst, post-cql

trigger warning: please check the tags!

once again, is there any fic of yiqie’s that hasn’t made it onto my list? no. guys the description? the premise of this fic? everything about this fic is so beautiful and it’s just stunning execution this is a fic i come back to again and again so please read it, i don’t think any explanation will ever do it justice

build me no shrines by @wanlangji

fluff, angst, smut, post-cql, multi-chapter

the case fic to end all case fics GUYS THE DETAIL IN THIS i remember seeing it making its way around twitter and i saw case fic and immediately went :O and i read all of it in one sitting it’s SO good and wwx is just SO dumb but the wangxian pops off as usual and they kick ass while they’re at it

and they have escaped the weight of darkness by cosmicmilktea

fluff, light angst, cql au

an amnesia fic BUT NOT this fic is so beautiful and so heart-clenching i finished it so fast bc i literally could not stop the writing is just so captivating and it’s just such a soulful ending

spring days of my life by @besanii

angst

trigger warning: i read this and literally felt like i was having a heart attack bc it hurt me That Much

beth has done it again :))))) she has murdered my heart and now i’m just a lump on the floor; i needed SEVERAL days to recover from this i am not exaggerating i was literally sweating bc i felt my heart squeeze so painfully it’s literally just pure angst

something to soothe your heart

where the chaos is by darkredloveknot

fluff, smut, post-cql

guys GUYS domestic wangxian without the husband bit yet is just *squeal* this was the fic i forgot to bookmark and then i came across it again by chance and i was so RELIEVED i literally just remember this as ‘the fic where lwj carves wwx’s name into a bowl’ and it’s just so wholesome and cute and i love it

our heart beats, intertwined by xuantime

fluff, light angst, modern au

wangxian being doctors is a fic i will always stand by and get behind and this is just some pure married content i love them so much wwx is such a dumbass and we are all just like lwj, fondly looking on as he is a complete idiot but we love domestic wangxian in any form so we love this fic

a little bit everyday by w_wxsparkles

fluff, smut, light angst, modern au

lwj is so dumb and wwx is a mess we love them so much this was such a GOOD premise for a fic and now i can’t get the image of lwj wearing lip gloss out of my head but there’s just so much wangxian being wangxian here and lots of making out so YES it has mai’s stamp of approval

as you like it by cosmicmilktea

fluff, post-cql

DOMESTIC WANGXIAN let lwj be pampered agenda this was so cute and wwx just wants to love his husband thank you very much so we are all a captivated audience as domestic wangxian proves to be even MORE wangxian than usual

puzzle pieces by @yuisakii

fluff, modern au

guys yui is actually one of my favourite fic writers and this is PEAK yui content pls follow her on twt bc she makes the best twt fic threads but this is just such GOLD content bc wwx is trying so hard to be a slut and lwj is just *horny grip*

new york, i love you by @yuisakii

fluff, modern au

the gossip girl au we never thought we needed but YUI STRIKES AGAIN Y’ALL this is perfect bite sized wangxian pining for each other to each other’s faces and we just love them so so much

we sit in the sunset glow by moonsteps

fluff, light angst, rapunzel au

i have made a promise to read every single rapunzel au out there and this is the PINNACLE of rapunzel fics guys it’s so perfect i love it so much wwx is just so chaotic in his every rendition and i love him so much

an invisible string by @wangxiians

fluff, modern au

IS THERE ANYTHING TEDDII CANNOT DO? guys the description?? wangxian finding each other in every single lifetime no matter what? fck the feels popped off with this one the writing is EXQUISITE

something to make you laugh

a lot’s gonna change by etymologyplayground

fluff, modern au

i LOVE this fic bc wen qing and lwj being best friends is literally the best concept i love seeing wwx flirt and be a mess in lwj’s presence and this is all of that beautiful stuff all wrapped in and sprinkled with some mutual pining (for like 5 minutes then they make out)

save a sword, ride a socialist by @fozmeadows

fluff, smut, modern au, multi-chapter

LWJ IS SUCH A BITCH IN THIS AND I AM HERE FOR IT guys i love the fics with a stoic lwj bc yes canon continuity but pls modern lwj is 100% a bitch, esp if jzx is friend so this is just so good and every thing i never thought i needed in a fic

bodega love by @nothing-but-colour

fluff, modern au, multi-chapter

SOME WHOLESOME GROUP TEXT SHENANIGANS guys if you don’t read any other fic pls read this one it’s just so cute and so good and wangxian going on their first date and respectively FREAKING OUT about it is just so good

#mai's fic rec list!#the untamed #fytheuntamed #mdzsnet #chen qing ling #wangxian #wangxian fics #mo dao zu shi #pls reblog if you can!#i made this instead of studying cranial nerves :)))))

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Nine

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Nine

Wednesday nights at The Hunter’s Moon weren’t exactly hopping, but the small crowd would do for Jace’s purposes. The atmosphere was familiar, at least, and he wasn’t likely to find better at any of the other bars in town. He’d been on uncertain footing for months, not knowing how to be whatever he and Simon had been. But now, alone, unwanted, and with a soul-deep ache in his chest, he was finally back on familiar ground. This feeling, Jace knew exactly what to do with, and step one was getting very drunk.

He almost hesitated when he saw Maia behind the bar. She must have switched shifts with someone, because she didn’t usually work Wednesdays, and Jace wasn’t prepared for her too-knowing eyes or her pity.

But Maia greeted him with her usual easy smile, so either she didn’t know Simon had moved out, or she didn’t know him half as well as she pretended to.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” she said. “Isn’t tomorrow your god-awful early Latin class?”

Jace shook his head. “That’s Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Can I get a double shot of Stoli?”

Maia’s smile slipped, just a bit, but she nodded and poured his drink. “Starting off strong right out the gate,” she observed. “You want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” Jace tossed back the shot. The heat that followed it down felt less like the usual ripping off an emotional Band-Aid and more like rubbing salt into an open wound. “What I want is another one of those and to find some company for the night.”

Maia paused, bottle in hand. “Okay, no.” She wasn’t even pretending to smile anymore. “I can’t actually stop you from riding whatever self-destructive train you’ve decided to hop on, but I don’t have to enable it, either.”

“You’re a bartender,” Jace said flatly. “It’s your job to pour drinks.”

“I’m your friend, and I’m not pouring you anything else until you tell me why you’re in my bar looking for a drunken hookup instead of at home with your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Maia told him. “Where’s Simon?”

Jace met her eyes. “Simon left. Can I have my vodka now?”

“What do you mean, ‘he left’? Oh god, did you guys break up?” And there, finally, was the pity he’d been expecting. At least it came with another shot of vodka.

“Can’t break up if you’re not actually dating.” Jace downed his shot. This one didn’t soothe any better, but at least it didn’t make things worse.

Maia gave him a flat look. “You’ve been sleeping together, exclusively, for the past five months.”

“That was just—” He shook his head, trying not to choke on words that he knew were true but still felt like a lie. “Just a couple hookups between friends.”

“Yeah, that’s complete bullshit.” Maia’s tone was so certain. Jace wanted to believe her.

“Don’t know why you’re so surprised. Simon and I hook up with our friends all the time.”

“No,” Maia said slowly. “You hook up with your friends. So does Lily. So do I, sometimes. But Simon?” She gave him a significant look. “Simon doesn’t do casual. He’s just a great guy who stays friends with most of his exes.”

Jace didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in his smile. “Guess I’m an exception to many rules.”

Maia’s voice was soft when she spoke again. “I don’t actually believe you do casual with someone you’ve been pining over for the better part of a year, either.”

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

“Don’t bullshit me. Neither of us was actually drunk enough to have forgotten that conversation.” When Jace didn’t respond, she asked, “Why’d he leave?”

“Because he wants something real,” Jace told her. “And he doesn’t want it with me.”

When Jace met her eyes again, he expected to see pity. What he got was pure skepticism. “He said that?”

“Yep.” He lifted his glass. “Pour me another?”

She pursed her lips, then shook her head. “I’ll bring you beer.”

Jace sighed, but he didn’t argue. Maia was a much better friend than she was a bartender.

“You know,” Maia said when she returned with his beer, “I’ve known Simon a long time, and that really doesn’t sound like something he’d say.”

Jace lifted his glass in a toasting gesture. “Guess I just bring out the best in people.”

She sighed heavily, leaning on the bar. “Look, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what you guys said, and he’s never actually talked to me about it, so I don’t know for sure whether he feels the same way about you that you do about him, but anyone who’s not a complete idiot can see he cares about you. That’s not something he makes any effort to hide. And Simon would never say something that cruel to someone he cares about. So, whatever he said? I’m pretty sure it’s not what you heard.”

“Did you just call me a complete idiot?” He needed to make a joke out of it because he couldn’t let himself believe what Maia was saying. He didn’t have it in him to hope again.

“Yes.” She nudged his hand with her elbow. “But you really should talk to Simon.”

“Don’t think just because you’re finally dating the woman you’ve been crushing on for ages that makes you some kind of relationship expert.”

“Oh, I don’t,” she assured him. “I just think I’m more of a relationship expert than you.”

Jace silently flipped her off, then pulled out his phone. He stared at it for a long time before finally texting Simon.

Can we talk? Please.

As soon as he hit send, he put his phone face-down on the bar and turned his full attention to drinking his beer. Maia gave him an approving nod before going to help the trio of customers that had just walked up to the bar.

It took Simon almost ten minutes to respond, and Jace wasn’t sure how to take it when he did.

Bat says it’s fine if you come over.

It wasn’t exactly a gilded invitation, and Jace was pretty sure he didn’t want to have whatever conversation he and Simon were going to have with Bat there, but it also wasn’t a no. Jace could live with not a no. He’d have to.

He caught Maia’s eye. “Close me out?”

“Sure.” She took his card and scanned it. “Where you headed?”

“Bat’s place. Simon’s staying there.”

He expected at least a little bit of gloating, but all he got was a smile and his card back. “Cool.”

Jace shoved his wallet back in his pocket and stood to put his jacket on. Maia stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hey. If this doesn’t go the way you want it to, promise you’ll come back here to say I told you so instead of finding a different bar to drown your sorrows in?”

Jace scoffed. “Like I’d ever pass up a chance to rub it in your face that you were wrong.”

Maia gave his arm an encouraging squeeze before letting go. Jace downed the last of his beer and hoped he wasn’t about to fuck things up even worse.

~~~

“How did my place become the designated space for heartbroken sulking?” Bat asked when he opened his door to find Jace standing there.

“It’s because you have the best couch to crash on and the nicest gaming setup,” Jace told him. “Also because you’re too nice to kick your friends out even when we probably deserve it. Can I come in?”

Bat watched him for a long moment, then stepped back and let the door swing all the way open to allow Jace inside.

“I’m gonna run to the store to pick up some more chips,” Bat announced loudly. “I will be back in half an hour, and if any bodily fluids end up on my couch while I’m gone, you are both permanently banned from my apartment.”

“Dude,” came Simon’s voice from the direction of Bat’s living room.

“Just saying,” Bat said, and then he was closing the door behind him, leaving Jace standing in the entryway.

Jace took a deep breath to steady himself, then a second one before finally forcing himself to walk into the living room.

He found Simon on the couch, feet tucked underneath him like he always sat when he was upset. Simon didn’t look up, instead staring intently at the hole in the knee of his worn Boba Fett pajamas as he poked at the threads.

“Hey,” Jace said.

“Hey.” Simon’s eyes stayed trained on his knee.

Okay. This was fine. Jace could work with this. Probably.

He sat down on the far end of the couch and tried again. “Look, I know I’m shit at apologies, but I can’t even try if I don’t know why you’re pissed at me.”

Simon’s shoulders slumped, and he finally looked at Jace with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m not pissed at you.”

“Really? Because you’re acting kind of pissed at me.”

“I’m not—” Simon made a frustrated sound. “Okay, I’m kind of pissed at you, but I know it’s super unfair, and I’m, you know,” he shrugged, “working through it.”

“And when you’re done working through it, then you’ll come home?” Jace’s question sounded desperate, even to his own ears.

“I think—” Simon went back to studying the hole in his pajamas. “I think I’m going to spend the summer back in New York with my mom. Bat said I can crash on his couch for a couple weeks until finals are over.”

“Simon.” Jace was shaking his head, but Simon just kept right on going.

“I can—I can keep paying my half of rent until you find another roommate.”

“I don’t want another roommate.” I want you. Jace shook the thought away. That could wait. All that right now mattered was keeping Simon from walking out of his life.

“Look,” Jace continued, “I know things are kind of weird between us right now, but you don’t have to leave. We can fix this. We can just—just go back to how things were before, like nothing ever happened, and it’ll be—” It would be agonizing. Jace wasn’t sure he could do it. “It’ll be fine.”

“I can’t just go back to how things were before, Jace.” Simon’s glare was withering. “It’s not that easy.”

Jace ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I know I fucked up. I shouldn’t have kissed you at Alec’s wedding, but I swear it won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t—Jace, we kissed each other at the wedding.”

Jace glared back, letting anger mask his hurt. “Then what exactly is the problem?” If he didn’t know what he’d done, he couldn’t fix it, and if he couldn’t fix it… “If it’s not about the kiss, then why the hell won’t you just come home?”

“Because I love you, you asshole!”

Simon looked almost as surprised by his own outburst as Jace felt. Jace stared. He couldn’t have heard that right. Because if Simon loved him, then he wouldn’t be glaring at him like he just kicked his favorite puppy. If Simon loved him, he wouldn’t have left.

“I love you,” Simon repeated, calmer now, “and I can’t keep pretending that I don’t.”

“Simon,” Jace croaked. His voice didn’t seem to want to work.

“That’s why I can’t live with you anymore, because I’m never going to be able to get over you if I do.”

“Simon,” Jace tried again, voice stronger now.

“And that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. But I think if I just take some time, and some space, then maybe I can—”

Jace let out a frustrated growl. “Will you please stop talking for five seconds so I can tell you that I love you, too?”

It was Simon’s turn to stare. “You—I don’t understand.”

Jace let out a bark of laughter that was half hysterical, half wonder. “Yeah, this is. It’s a lot.”

“But,” Simon’s voice was soft, vulnerable, “if you love me, then why don’t you want to be with me?”

“Simon,” he reached out to cup Simon’s cheek with his hand, “what could possibly have given you the idea that I don’t want to be with you?”

“You!” Simon’s voice was indignant, but he didn’t pull away, instead leaning into Jace’s touch. “You’ve said it like a million times! That you don’t date. That you’re not a relationship kind of guy.”

“Yeah, because I suck at it.” It wasn’t an easy admission to make, and Jace had to force himself not to cringe away from showing this much vulnerability. But for Simon, he would. “You were right when you said I don’t know how to be bad at things, and I make a terrible boyfriend. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be yours.”

Simon let out a choked laugh, winding his arms around Jace’s neck. “You were actually a pretty great boyfriend, even when you were just pretending.”

“Simon. I was never pretending.”

Simon made a wounded noise and dragged him the remaining inches between them into a kiss. It was messy and the angle was awkward as hell, but Jace wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He kissed back, putting everything he felt into it. And then Simon was throwing a leg over him to straddle his lap, and the angle—along with everyone else—was so much better.

“Dude, what did I say?”

They broke apart at Bat’s very annoyed question. Jace had been too distracted to even hear the door.

“Technically, we didn’t break your rule.” Simon’s grin was wide and bright and a little dazed as he disentangled himself from Jace. Jace suspected he was wearing a similar expression. “No bodily fluids on your couch.”

“I expect more than a technicality when your fluids are involved,” Bat said flatly. “And I’m happy you guys got your shit together or whatever, but please get the fuck out of my apartment now.”

“I think we were just leaving, anyway,” Jace said.

“Oh yeah,” Simon agreed. “We’ve got some, uh, stuff to take care of back home.”

Jace barely even heard the pained noise Bat made over the sudden burst of joy in his chest at hearing Simon call their apartment “home” again. Grinning like an absolute idiot, he let Simon pull him out the door and down the street toward their apartment. Toward home.

~~~

It took them far longer to get back to the apartment than the distance warranted. Probably because they couldn’t seem to go a full block without kissing, which inevitably led to making out against the nearest wall until one of them remembered that they actually had an apartment with nice features like beds and privacy.

“This is ridiculous,” Jace said half a block down from their building, ignoring the fact that he was the one who had Simon pinned to the neighboring complex’s laundry room wall. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Either kiss me again or get moving,” Simon said, grinding against the thigh Jace had between his legs. “I’d really like to get you naked before I have to leave for morning classes.”

With a put-upon sigh, Jace stepped back. “It’s really annoying when you’re right about things, you know that?”

“I know that you say ‘annoying’ when you mean ‘hot,’” Simon said with a smug grin.

“That is not at all a thing that I do,” Jace lied.

They managed to make it back to the apartment with no more detours and practically fell through the door with how eager they were to get their hands and mouths back on each other.

“Missed this,” Simon said between kisses. “Missed you.”

“It’s been like half a week,” Jace said, like he hadn’t missed Simon like he’d lost a limb, blood loss included. “And you’re the idiot who decided we should break up, so whose fault is that?”

“We weren’t even dating, you dick. I didn’t think you wanted to.” Simon pulled away then, suddenly serious. “You do want to, though, right? You meant it when you said you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I can’t believe I fell in love with someone so dense,” Jace said with an affectionate smile. “Yes, I meant it.”

“Okay,” Simon said, smiling back. “Cool.”

“Now that we’ve got that sorted out,” Jace leaned forward, lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from Simon’s, “can I please take you to bed already?”

Simon kissed him, quick and hard, before grabbing the lapels of his leather jacket and walking backward down the hallway, dragging Jace with him.

“I like it when you say please,” Simon said. “It’s definitely something you should do more often.”

“Yeah?” Jace used the fact that his own hands were free to unbuckle Simon’s belt while they walked. “You gonna make me?”

“I thought that was implied.” Simon pushed the door to Jace’s bedroom open and shoved Jace through it.

Jace took another step back, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it vaguely in the direction of his desk chair. “You really think you can?”

“I’ve done it before.” Simon followed and slid his hands up beneath Jace’s shirt. “I can remind you how it went if you forgot.”

“Could have been a fluke.” Jace’s words probably would have been more convincing if his entire body hadn’t jolted when Simon’s thumbs very deliberately brushed over his nipples before moving to tug his shirt over his head.

“You’re right,” Simon said as he pulled his own shirt over his head. “We’ll need a bigger data set if we’re going to do a proper statistical analysis.”

“Less math.” Jace pulled open Simon’s fly and reached a hand inside his boxers. “More sex.”

Simon rocked into the touch. “I didn’t hear a ‘please’ in there.”

Jace snorted. “Bite me.”

“I mean, I was going to suck you, but if you’d rather I bite—”

Jace cut him off with a kiss. By the way Simon smiled against his mouth, he thought that might have been exactly the reaction he was going for. Jace couldn’t be annoyed by it, though. Not when Simon was making those soft, eager noises into their kisses while they divested each other of their remaining clothes. Not when every touch, every kiss felt like coming home. Not when they finally tumbled into bed and Simon kissed perfect and so hot and love you into his mouth and skin.

It wasn’t until Simon had him practically writhing with want, lazily fingering him while he traced patterns across Jace’s hipbone with his tongue, that Jace realized he’d meant it about making him say ‘please.’ The realization must have shown on his face because Simon, the utter bastard, winked at him before stroking his finger against Jace’s prostate, just once. It was almost as infuriating as it was hot.

Jace’s resolve not to beg lasted right up until Simon shifted so he could reach Jace’s other hip with his mouth, causing his own cock, hard and leaking, to brush against Jace’s calf. Knowing that Simon was just as turned on as he was, it was too much.

He rocked his hips down as Simon added a second finger, trying desperately to get some pressure where he needed it. The stretch felt good, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough. “Are you waiting for a gilded invitation?”

“You know what I’m waiting for,” Simon said mildly, cheek just barely grazing Jace’s cock as he lowered his head to place an open-mouthed kiss on the seam of Jace’s thigh.

“Fuck, fuck, fine,” Jace panted. “Please.”

Simon didn’t waste any time to gloat, swallowing him down to the root in one smooth motion at the same time that he crooked his fingers to press against Jace’s prostate. Jace let out a strangled sob, fighting to keep his hips still and failing miserably. If Simon’s answering moan was any indication, he didn’t mind in the slightest, so Jace stopped trying, losing himself in the heat of Simon’s mouth, the perfect pressure of his fingers.

He glanced down, needing to see, and was very nearly undone by the sight of Simon’s lips stretched around his cock, the obvious enthusiasm for what he was doing. Simon caught his gaze and swallowed—very deliberately—around the head of his cock. Jace let out a keening noise as his body shook and he spilled his release down Simon’s throat.

Simon kept working him with mouth and fingers until it was just pushing the edges of too much, and then he was crawling up Jace’s body to kiss him, needy and desperate, as he jerked himself off. Jace had just enough presence of mind left to kiss back, to slide one hand between them to join Simon’s on his cock until Simon was shaking apart above him, painting their hands and stomachs with his come.

“See?” Simon said a few minutes later, still half-breathless. “I knew I could get you to say ‘please.’”

“Fuck you,” Jace mumbled without any real heat, too fucked-out to muster a proper comeback.

Simon gave him a crooked grin. “Next time, I should make you ask nicely, though.”

Jace thought he probably shouldn’t be as into that idea as he was, especially since he’d just come, but he absolutely was, his mind spinning out an elaborate vision of what that would be like. Not that he was going to admit it.

“Shut up and cuddle me,” he said instead.

Simon’s answering smirk said he knew exactly what Jace wasn’t saying, but he didn’t argue, curling his body into Jace’s with a contented sigh.

“Hey,” Jace said quietly. “I love you.”

He felt Simon’s smile against his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

Eventually, Jace knew, they would have to move. They were both in desperate need of a shower, and he should probably put something in his body that wasn’t alcoholic if he didn’t want to feel like death in the morning. But for now, he was content to stay like this, wrapped in the arms of the man he loved. And when they did finally make their way out of bed, he’d be fine with that, too, and whatever came after. As long as Simon was beside him.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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ao3feed-dadzawa · 3 years

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Soothing Soul-Aches

Soothing Soul-Aches by Otaku6337

Shouta doesn't have a favourite food. There's no particular dish or brand or ingredient that he always goes for if he wants a treat or some comfort. However, he's a firm believer in comfort meals. Ones spent with people he loves, so that he knows they're safe and present and okay... Those are the best sort of remedy for a soul-ache. And today has very much been a soul-ache sort of day.

Luckily he has his husband and his kids - all twenty one of them - to help.

Alt. title: "It's Not What You Eat, But Who You Eat With"

Words: 1171, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 96 of Ota's One-Shot Wonders, Part 93 of Ota's BNHA Ficlets, Part 36 of Fics From The Trenches ( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Class 1-A, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Eri

Additional Tags: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Needs a Hug, Class 1-A as Family, Cute Eri, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Has PTSD, so sometimes he has bad days, Sweet Eri, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Loves His Students, Comfort Food, Team as Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, NWA Fic Fight Team 1-A

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32503462

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Dadzawa #♥#Erasermic #Eri #R:G #A:Otaku #Mental Illness #Hurt Comfort #Fluff

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illneverrecover · 5 years

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breathe for you | jjk

➛pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader ➛genre: Marriage!AU, domestic!AU, slice of life, fluff with a nice little smut undertone. ➛word count: 2006 ➛rating: 18+ (mature themes, mentions and descriptions of foreplay). ➛warnings: cursing, heavy petting, marking, dry humping/grinding, slight hair pulling, making out like horny teenagers, Jungkook being a goofy soft ass whole entire angel. ➛summary: You’re always cold, but Jungkook comes up with the sweetest and most creative ways to warm you up. ➛notes: This entire thing was written for one of my beautiful besties, @quinnkoo . Happy Birthday, Quinny baby! I’m sad we’re not celebrating this years at a BTS concert (or in a GCF!) like we did last year, but I hope this at least makes you smile. I’m so glad to have you in my life, to get to call you a friend, and to get to finally be close enough to squeeze you. Don’t tell anyone but I love you. Actually just don’t read this. ➛song: Love U - Monsta X & Breathe for You - Monsta X

“It’s freezing in here.”

“No it’s not. You’re being dramatic again.”

Huffing, you slide the soles of your feet until they’re pressed against one of Jungkook’s sweatpant clad thighs. “I’m never dramatic literally ever. Feel my toes,” you wiggle them, giggling when he squeaks at the pinch.

“Why do you always want me to touch your feet? Listen, baby, if you have a foot fetish, we can discuss some boundaries-”

“Jungkook!” you yell, laughing when he grabs your feet, tickling them briefly before slowly squeezing. His hands were so warm, which was a gentle reminder that your husband was practically a human furnace.

Scooting closer to him, you fling your legs completely in his lap, sighing with relief when large palms slide up and down your legs, the friction warming your bones. You were always cold, no matter what the weather, but it was one of the many quirks that Jungkook loves about you - and loves teasing you for. Nuzzling into his side, you rest your eyes in the cozy peace of the moment before Jungkook shouts, plopping your legs to the couch to stand.

“I have an idea!”

You scoff. “Is your idea microwaving my socks again? Because they almost caught fire last time and it was awful-”

“No! This idea is way better,” he grins, winking at you before darting away.

Despite the exasperation on your face, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. Finding the match to your soul was a feat that you hadn’t thought possible, and yet here he was, dressed like a teenager and armed with a toothy grin, ready to take on the world for you. It may seem silly to others, but every moment spent with him was more than you could ever ask for. He was so caring, so considerate. He always wanted to make you laugh, always going out of his way to make you smile.

So many bad days that he had turned for the better by attempting to make your favorite food, or demanding a movie night with all your favorites. Days when you had left work exhausted and drained and so damn soul weary that you didn’t think you could leave your bed - and instead of trying to make you, he instead joined you, holding you tight and letting you tell him all your fears and concerns. Jungkook was the most attentive partner, and he made the most mundane things unforgettable - one of his many charms.

He returns with a pile of blankets in his arms, doe eyes dancing with mirth just above the visible line.

“You know where you can’t be cold?” when you shake your head, he drops the blankets on your lap, throwing his arms in the air. “Inside the formidable and impenetrable Fort Nochu!”

You roll your eyes, but your smile is already hurting your cheeks. It was a cheesy nickname, a silly word, and yet it was something so undeniably him.

“Impenetrable, huh?” Unfolding the top blanket, you drape it over the couch until it reaches the top of the nearby recliner until a makeshift ceiling is formed. “Is the fort itself impenetrable or does that go for the inhabitants as well?”

His dulcet chuckle is music to your ears, long hair shifting to fall into his eyes as he looks up at you through thick lashes. The look was more lethal than he realizes, and your blood starts pounding, pooling low in your gut.

“Well, you’ll just have to come and find out, hmm?” He tries to wink, but both eyes close, and you feel your heart clenching.

Did he have to be so damn cute? Honestly, the whiplash was maddening.

It took less than 10 minutes to finish the construction, your ideas for the optimal blanket fort perfectly aligning and allowing you to work in tandem. The futon mattress from the spare room has been dragged as the makeshift floor, a mountain of pillows and blankets adorning the top until it was truly lush and luxurious. A small door had been left open to the elements so that the TV screen could be seen, though Jungkook assures that this is not a design flaw and does not change his previous statement regarding the fortitude of Fort Nochu.

He gestures for you to crawl inside before following, remote forgotten shortly after he puts some Netflix show on for background noise. Instead you were content to lay facing each other, his long arms circling your waist and rubbing smooth patterns along the ridges of your spine. Your face is pressed to the firmness of his chest, his scent heady mixed with the gentle thumping of his heart, and you couldn’t help but to breathe him in, to wish you could pull him in deeper.

He’s humming a song, one that you don’t recognize but it’s beautiful and soothing as one hand slides up your back to nestle into your hair. “So, how about it? Did it work? Are you warm yet?”

Honestly, your limbs and heart had been heated through long before climbing into the blanket fort, but he didn’t need to know that. Instead, you trace the silk line of his jaw, thumb tugging at the corner of his plush bottom lip until his darkened gaze focuses on you.

“I’m pretty warm, but I think I could be warmer.”

He glares then, question evident on his brow but instead of answering further, you hitch a leg over his hip, pulling him closer until your faces were almost touching. Your nose sweeps against his gently, a ghost of sweetness, before trailing down to his pulse point, to the hollow of his throat. You press a lingering kiss there, wet and soft, before moving to leave another, making a small path until you reach the barrier of his hoodie.

He shakes loose a breath as his hands tighten around you, tugging in an effort to bring you closer, but you ignore it to continue your leisurely ministrations on the column of his neck. His skin was sweet, as if the lingering scent of his soap had melded with his natural scent to create the most perfect flavor, one that you couldn’t get enough of. You grin against him when you hear him whine, swallowing thickly.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you murmur, teasing the lobe of his ear with your teeth. Sliding a hand through his long locks, you tangle your fingers near the root to give a gentle pull, awarding you a low moan from his throat. “Is there something you want, Jungkook?”

His voice is rough, gravelly with misuse, but you hear him clearly all the same.

“You. All I ever want is you.”

Now it’s your turn to groan, swinging your body up onto his hips until you are straddling above him, hands resting against the tight planes of his chest. He looks beautiful pinned beneath you; lungs heaving, face flushed, tawny eyes shiny and lust blown. His long hair is fanned around his face, almost making him look angelic - if you didn’t know any better, that is.

Unable to resist any longer, you crash your lips to his, licking against the seam of his pout until he opens, always so pliant for your kisses. You kiss him until he’s breathless, until his mouth is love bitten and his taste is burned onto your tongue. You’d be content to kiss Jungkook all night, to just enjoy the feeling of his lips moving in sync with your own, but the growing hardness pressing against your inner thigh is begging for your attention.

Who are you to deny Jungkook attention?

Rolling your hips, you finally pull your mouth away, gasping for air as you keen against him. “So what were the rules regarding penetration inside of Fort Nochu again?”

A choked laugh fades into a moan of your name, palms digging into your waist, bruising. “I concede. You’re the queen of this fort now, you make the rules.”

Victory of your win flooded your veins, and you give him a cocky grin before suckling his bottom lip between your teeth, nipping the flesh gently before letting it drop.

“Good.”

Your hands slide under his hoodie to feel the feverish skin of his torso, lean muscles shivering under the contact as he gasps, and you love how responsive he is; how sensitive he is to your touch, how worked up he gets for you - only for you.

Nudging him to sit up, you rip the material over his head to toss aside, eyes greedily drinking in the revealed skin before you like it was the first time all over again. Latching your mouth to his collarbone, you start to suck evidence of your claim against his golden skin, hips rocking gently against his length in sync with his soft mewls.

Each glide against his clothed cock was delicious pressure against your aching core, and you knew you were wet enough that you wouldn’t even need anything more than to slide your panties to the side to have him sheathed fully inside of you. Dropping a hand down to your center, you move to sweep the offending material away when a sudden tug at your shirt has you yelping.

“Mama? Papa?”

The voice is tiny, dripping with sleep, and you will your pulse to slow its pace when you turn to see your son clamoring his way into the fort.

Sighing, you drop your head to Jungkook’s chest, snickering alongside him when he presses a kiss to your temple, allowing you a moment of reprieve before slipping out of his lap.

“Hey little man, why are you still awake?” he questions, hands reaching for the boy who happily scrambles into his father’s embrace.

Tiny fists rub at his eyes, hair sticking out into an excellent mad scientist impersonation. He looks just like his father, could almost be his twin, and as he got older and more of his personality started to show, it became evident that you had created some sort of Jungkook clone.

Something that the world should perhaps be worried about, but it only made your heart swell.

“I had a bad dream, I got scared. And then you weren’t in your room.” He pouts, lip jutting out, causing Jungkook to crinkle his nose with an amused grin.

“I’m sorry, rabbit. We decided to build a blanket fort,” leaning forward, he cups his hand towards the child’s ear, whispering conspiratorially. “I named it Fort Nochu.”

At the name, your son's eyes widen, turning to look at his father. “Nochu? Like who comes and helps me sleep at night?”

Jungkook chuckles, catching your eye as you stifle back giggles of your own. It had been an old trick, a silly story to tell your little boy that ‘Nochu would come through’ to help him sleep, but it had worked like a charm and clearly left a lasting impression.

“Exactly like that!”

Your heart tightens in a vice at the scene, and you muse if you could possibly love your husband - your little family - any more for probably the millionth time since you brought your son home. There’s a smile on your face as you make room between you, adoration smooth in your eyes when you pat the bed encouragingly.

“Does that mean I can sleep here?” he slides into the opening, a yawn ripping from him as he cozies under the copious blankets.

“I bet if you sleep here, you won’t have any more bad dreams,” you coo, running a hand through your sons dark hair as he settles onto his side, eyes already closing.

Jungkook slips in behind him, elbow propping him up so he can admire you both, the comfortable silence lulling in the space between. Reaching over the now sleeping boys form, his hand searches your own, fingers interlocking, giving you a quick squeeze.

“Are you warm now?”

His voice is low, dripping with adoration, and you know what he means; what he’s asking without ever saying the words.

Your eyes close as you hum.

“Definitely.”

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claudemblems · 4 years

Note

Aight so you're the master of fluff, I'm hoping you can do this scenario justice. Picture this, Yuri and s/o cuddling on a winter night all cozy and warm by a fire. Deep talks and ever warmer hearts. Domesticity. Please friend, you're the only person I trust!! (*´ω｀*) (I love you and your work, stay safe!)

I’m supposed to be the master of fluff, but I had a difficult time writing this for some reason!!! I just really wanted to impress you :,( But I think it came out okay and I just want to scream about this man. I’m in love with Yuri Leclerc!! I may have modeled the reader’s insecurities after my own...(but let’s be real, I know a lot of people share my troubles, too). Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope I can improve on writing Yuri’s character in the future. And I had him call the reader “Songbird” because it came to me yesterday as I was daydreaming and I think I made my own heart explode 💖

---

Winter had become one of your favorite times of the year. Not because of the snow that covered the ground or the light-hearted songs sung by all those around Fodlan, but rather it was your favorite simply because it gave you every right to be snuggled as close to your husband Yuri as possible (and he had no right to argue; someone had to keep you warm!).

Not that Yuri minded, anyways. He said he was the one who asked you for your hand, so he might as well provide for your every need, even if that “need” was to be so squished up against him that he sometimes had to ask you to let him breathe a little.

You’d been busy negotiating with some of the lords in your region all day, and you were ready to either pass out from exhaustion or snap something in half. It must have shown on your face when you’d entered the living room and Yuri gave you a sympathetic look.

“You look exhausted, my darling.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t aware that the aching of my soul was visible to human eyes.”

Yuri shook his head and laughed as he patted the spot next to him. You were quick to make your way over and take a seat, Yuri taking the blanket wrapped around him and covering up your body as well. The fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, its heat and the warmth of the blanket making you sigh in complete content. You shifted next to Yuri, close enough that your arms were brushing and you were able to place your head on top of his shoulder.

“At least I get to just sit here next to you and relax now,” you sighed.

Yuri smiled, gently running his fingers through your hair. “It’s a time I always look forward to, Songbird.”

“I just wish that Fodlan didn’t need so much...fixing. Relations and lordship were already a mess before the war started. Now it’s a matter of shifting into a new world and trying to keep the peace at the same time.”

“The war has left Fodlan in tatters, that’s for sure. However, I believe the Professor and Claude will be able to unite all the lands as one. I have faith in them.”

“I believe in them, too, but that’s too much responsibility placed on the shoulders of just two people.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s any easier where we stand in our respective houses,” Yuri said. “It’s a hassle still trying to get through the thick skulls of some pompous lords who ‘will not hear of King Reigan’s backwards ways’.” Yuri rolled his eyes and shifted further into the warmth of the blanket. “I know it’s definitely not easy for you, Songbird. You were born a noble. I’m over here trying to get used to that kind of lifestyle.”

“I’d ditch nobility anyday and just spend my life somewhere safe and quiet, able to read as many books as I please.”

“That sounds like a perfect plan. Why don’t we start our preparations right now?”

You jabbed Yuri playfully in the side, your laughter echoing throughout the room. The fire in the hearth crackled as the flames danced, its heat soothing your tense body.

“I really never imagined that I’d have a life like this,” you said. Yuri shifted his gaze over to you, that ever-present curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “Since I entered the academy, all I was expecting was to finish my training and become a knight. I’d long since given up on my real dreams and passions. All of the things that mattered most to me...I thought I’d have to throw them all away.

“But then I met you.” A smile curved on Yuri’s lips, his fingers still raking through your hair. “All those years of feeling like an outsider, like no one would ever care enough to want to get to know me. The fear of never being loved by someone. You came along and you changed my world. And I can’t begin to say how grateful I am to be married—to be best friends—with someone so understanding and intelligent and compassionate. You’re the brightest star in my sky.”

The light of the flames reflected off of Yuri’s face, his rosy cheeks and adoring eyes filling you with more warmth than that of the fire. “I think about that too, my Songbird. How the odds were in my favor when it came to finding someone like you. Someone that fanned my curiosity more than the endless sea of stars above us.”

You closed your eyes as Yuri leaned down and pressed a kiss on top of your hair. “I honestly don’t know how to express how grateful I am for you,” he said. “But I hope that you know just how much I love and treasure you, my darling. Thank you for having me as I am.”

It was your turn for your face to heat up. Flustered giggles left your mouth. It had once been so rare to have Yuri open up to you like this, but as time passed, you could see just how much your presence in his life changed his perspective on things. To have his full trust and love, it was something you could still barely fathom.

You snuggled into his neck as he tightened the blanket around the both of you. All the worries and stress of the day faded away with just the touch of Yuri’s lips pressed on yours, his deepest thoughts spoken aloud to you and you alone. His comforting words made you realize that waiting all those years to find someone like him had been more than worth it.

“Are you warm enough?” Yuri asked. “It’s quite cold out there. We’re probably going to have to have the fire on every night now.”

“I don’t mind it,” you whispered. “If it means I have an excuse to keep you right here, as close as possible.”

“Is there any way for me to even argue seeing as you’re practically glued against me and obstructing my airways?”

He burst into laughter as you shoved him, a squeal leaving your lips when you fell over on him.

“Yuri Leclerc!”

“Love you too, Songbird,” he sang, pressing a kiss to your nose.

You sighed but fell into his embrace, too content in this peaceful moment.

You couldn’t help but look forward to many more in the future with your favorite person at your side.

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three houses imagines #yuri leclerc #yuri x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #I cant wait until I get to after the timeskip and unlock his a supports aaa #AND IM S SUPPORTING THIS MAN IVE BEEN PLANNING IT FOR MONTHS #claudemblems writes

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Atlas: Space, Jupiter

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 7/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album.

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 7: Jupiter

Summary: Tony has warned Loki and Becca about their heart eyes interfering with their work. So, what do they do? They sneak around in secret, of course. Well, sort of secret. (Post Taking Turns.)

Warnings include: Language, annoyingly soft domesticity, self-sabotage (I wonder who -.-). Fluff. All the fluff.

Wrote it down in the winter of 1610 Just a secret under lock and key until then While collecting the stars, I connected the dots I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not I’m just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit, in orbit Like a magnet it beckoned my metals towards it, towards it

Loki sat basking in the warmth of the mid-morning sunshine at the corner of the development lab. He had cleared out a small corner of one of the lab benches and settled in with a few reference books and an empty notebook. In his head, his goal for the day was to uncover the secrets of an ancient tome he had only just found on a trip off-world. Ink marred his fingers, the ball-point pen running as he hurriedly jotted down notes, but his focus was somewhere else entirely. It was with the empty side of his bed that morning, and the faint smell of vanilla and sugar lingering on his pillow; with his favorite jumper, and the fact that it had been unceremoniously tossed on a chair.

He had set course for the lab as soon as he was able, like a magnet searching its opposite charge.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention and he cut his eyes towards it. Becca’s form caused him to double-take. Quiet and concentrated, she tinkered with a prototype for the Spiderboy’s suit. His stare grazed over the elegant column of her neck, craned at a slightly awkward angle as deft fingers took care to place tiny components onto a circuit board. Loki forced himself to continue working, though his body would betray him, only to stare blankly at the object of his affections, like a fool. Shaking his head, he turned back to his notebook and promptly groaned when he noted that part of his notes had been obscured by a rough sketch of Rebecca, bent over her work.

Loki had never been one to indulge in drawing or any other form of art, though he certainly did not lack the ability. His lines were smooth and deliberate, and though looked true to model, they lacked the same warmth and light Rebecca naturally exuded. It did little to capture the dainty shadows of her eyelashes on her cheekbones or the soothing aura that enveloped him as soon as he got near arm’s reach. Nor did it portray his overwhelming need to act cool and collected when he was in her presence, when all he wanted to do was talk until he had discovered every last secret of hers, and she of his.

“What are you doing?” The voice appeared in his ear so suddenly that he started. He slammed his notebook closed a second later. “Jeez, since when are you so jumpy?”

“I was distracted. Didn’t think I’d be snuck up on in the middle of the day in the lab,” he grumbled, turning in his seat to face her.

Almost compulsively, his hand sought to pull her closer, resting at the point he knew that bullet had pierced her skin, months ago. He shouldn’t want to pull her into his arms and kiss her and promise her the world, when he knew full well it could hurt her. But he got so easily swept up in the delicious sweetness of her character behind closed doors and the way her eyebrow quirked when she was about to say something clever and sexy.

Becca brushed some of his dark locks out of his face and behind his ear, taking care to brush her fingers all the way down his neck before retreating. She smiled, something secret and intimate, before sighing. “You know better than to come in here while I’m working, Loki.”

“I wanted to see you,” he breathed, leaning forward until his forehead rested on her collarbone. Becca immediately petted his hair back as a shiver ran down his spine. “No one was here and Stark–”

“Already warned us about dating interfering with our work, and you know it.”

“I’m sorry I cannot resist the temptation of your charms.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat and ghosted his lips over her neck until he felt her resolve melt. “Do you want to tell Stark you’re sick and go someplace else?”

She snorted. “It’s Saturday, Loki. I can go wherever I want.” He righted himself, quick as a flash, narrowing his eyes at her with a frown. “Seriously, glance at the calendar, every now and then.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“My boyfriend was deep in slumber this morning, so I kept myself occupied.” She grinned brightly, cocking her hip to rest her weight on one leg, the shift causing her curves to stand out in stark relief. His fingers shifted from his thigh to the spot where her wide hips flared and just the barest bit of bone jutted out delicately. He was fascinated with how his hands fit so perfectly onto her body.

“Why, pray tell, would you not just sneak into my bed and wait for me to wake?” He growled playfully.

“I wasn’t looking for disappointment so early in the mor–” The wind left her lungs in the form of a yelp as she was thrown over Loki’s shoulder and he blipped out of existence from the lab.

Make my messes matter Make this chaos count Let every little fracture in me Shatter out loud

Despite the fact that every member of the team had accommodations at Stark Tower, Becca had maintained her small apartment in the city. It was across the street from a small community park, filled with trees and laughing children, and not a single concern about HYDRA or alien races or some other world problem. It had quickly become their little escape spot whenever they felt the tower was staring at them too hard or too often.

Becca had been apprehensive of bringing Loki here. No one could ever say that she lived in the lap of luxury or that she had the best and most comfortable furnishings in the land, but this little shoebox was her safe space–her own little world. She feared Loki would have more than a few less than kind things to say about it. Instead, he embraced the familiar coziness of the small sofas and huddled into the warmth of the afghans she would wrap him in when he inevitably fell asleep while intending to devour her book collection. Not only that, but he looked so at peace in her little world. Every morning she woke to him neck-deep in bedsheets and duvets, looking as if he had been sharing that bed with her from the moment she got this apartment, just after her doctorate.

“No, Tony, I don’t know where Mischief is,” she said into the STARKphone balanced on her shoulder as she played with Loki’s hair. The man in question smirked up at her from his place on her lap. “Did you check his room? The library? What does his GPS say?” She contained a giggle when Loki turned to blow raspberries into her stomach to make her laugh. “I’m at home, working on that plasma cannon patent you wanted.” Biting down on her lip, she smacked Loki’s shoulder to deter his agenda of making her break. “OK. Talk to you later, Tony.” When Becca hung up, her eyes narrowed at the giggling man with the bright blue eyes. “I will have to find some way to punish you for that.”

Loki chuckled, his long arms drawing her torso down so he could kiss her. “Mmm… punish away, love.”

“Kinky bastard.”

He frowned momentarily. “You’re the one who insists on following Stark’s rules, not I. Why am I the one being punished?”

Becca rolled her eyes, as if she hadn’t answered this question a million times before. “If he knew you the way I do, we wouldn’t need any damn rules.”

“Darling, if he knew me the way you do, I would have swindled him out of his company with a thorough fuc–”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!” She groaned, but promptly bent down to recapture his lips with her own. He pretended he was unaffected by the precious ache that tore his soul whenever she indulged his ridiculousness, every time she tended to a fissure in his dry, sarcastic armor.

Make my messes matter Make this chaos count Let every little fracture in me Shatter out loud

The breeze that blew through the summer leaves was perfumed with flowers and the lingering scent of petrichor from an earlier shower. It sweetened the secretive meeting under the great oak tree. Loki had walked away in a huff after a disagreement with Thor, and Becca had been at her home all week, working on some paperwork for Stark. It wouldn’t be long before Thor, Tony, or even Natasha went off to search for him, so they enjoyed each other’s company for as long as they could.

“Have you ever been off-world?” Loki asked, back against the tree with Becca resting on his chest, between his legs. He was playing with her hair, making long braids and twisting them into patterns on her head.

Becca laughed. “Have I been to space? No. I have not.”

“I should take you somewhere. There’s so much more than dreary Midgard.” He kissed her cheek as he pinned a braid behind her ear. “I could take you somewhere pretty.”

“I’m sure traveling with someone who’s pissed off half the galaxy is a grand idea, Loki,” she teased, and he pinched her side lightly before chuckling.

“They don’t hate me everywhere.” He considered it shortly while twisting a strand into a rose. “Just most places.”

She half-turned in her spot, leaving Loki to stop his work to attend her focused stare. “Loki, I love…t-to travel. It’d be fun to go off-world with you.” Her cheeks were a deep shade of red when she turned back around, leaving Loki to smile, almost proudly to himself. The smile faltered almost, instantly, the darker side of him chiming in about how it was a bad idea to get attached. She had not been wrong–his reputation would more than likely land them both in hot water. It took more than a minute to bring himself back to the whimsical state of mind he had been in a few seconds prior.

Becca’s phone buzzed and she turned it over to see a text from Tony that read Need to discuss web-shooter patents, followed by Tell Lokes I said hi. “Oh, busted.” She giggled before getting onto her knees and turning to face him. “I’ll see you later, Loki,” she muttered, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him before getting up and dusting the dirt off. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind you when you leave.” She was out of sight a moment later.

Her smile felt like a balm to his troubled soul. But it was still troubled. Why did every little morsel of affection feel like a wound and why did he want them so badly? Was it because of the affection or the pain? Did she deserve to live with this darkness? Would it dim her light? Could he even think about letting her go?

Groaning, he banished all thought from his brain and made his way back to her apartment. He would worry about this later.

#Loki #Lover #Others #Submitted fic #submission #Fanfictrashdump #atlas space #jupiter #chapter 7

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 4 years

Text

Home - Chapter 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader\

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, a little bit of smut, swear words - like seriously Language, Cap!

Summary: A month. It has been a month since Steve left leaving you nothing but a short letter. You are more than excited to see him.

A/N: So yeah! I would never expected that the first part would get so much recognition and love. I am so happy! So I wrote this part two. Because I could not decide whether I would like to end it with an angst or fluffy Cap, I decieed to do BOTH. Yep... well. Hope you ejoy it at least as half as you did the first part. @ @imanuglywombat is ok to add up to the challenge as one work :P

HUGE, thank you to the amazing @andromedahereicome for being my beta reader! You rock!

Word count: 3500+

A month. You waited a whole month. Long, exaggerating and exhausting. You had no message from any of the three, no phone call, no letter. Nothing that would tell you that they were alright. The only thing that kept you sane was the fact that you were able to hack their phones and knew that they were still on the move. All three people you cared about so dearly: Natasha, that has become like a sister, Sam who was always able to make you smile and him. Damn Steve Rogers, with whom you fell in love.

So by the end of the month you decided to make a huge “welcome back” dinner. For the three of them. You made sure to make a favourite dish each. You bought a bottle of good wine and couple of boxes of beers for the boys and waited excitedly for their arrival. You waited until it was eight in the morning when you became aware that they were not coming. You checked your phone couple of times, your emails, but there was no message. There was no message from any of them. No message from Steve.

You weren’t mad, really. You understood. They were away doing some kind of mission and did not want to compromise it by sending a stupid text. You wanted them to be safe. You really understood. At least you tried. You tried to not feel disappointed when you packed all the food into the freezer. You tried not to overthink when you put all the alcohol in the basement. You really tried not fall apart because of something as stupid as a man.

But you couldn’t. As much as you knew how pathetic it made you look and feel, you couldn’t help but fall on your pillow and just cry, because there was just something inside of you saying, that if he really tried and wanted to contact you, he would have been able to. So you just laid in your bed, thinking about the man that you gave your heart to. A man that chose not to come back to you.

“You are a coward, Rogers”, the blonde sighed deeply preparing himself for the talk. He knew the woman enough to understand when she was pissed at him. For instance, calling him by his name was one of the ‘symptoms’.

“We would put her in danger, Natasha. Please tell me how does that make me a coward?” He calmly asked, navigating the jet for one of their safe houses. Sam was sitting behind them listening to the exchange, fighting with himself not to message you. But he promised Steve that he would not.

“You know that the ‘danger’ bullshit is just a cover for your fear of actually committing to someone.” She raised her hand when he tried to say something. “For the first time since you woke up from the ice you were given an opportunity of a normal life. A life that Tony was always tormenting you about.” Her voice became softer when she spoke again. “I understand that it is scary. Being a normal guy. A man with a house, a woman by your side and, maybe one day, even a normal job. Who knows where life would bring us.” Her hand landed on his thigh, but he didn't shift, didn't even take his eyes of the road. “I know you are scared to even think about the possibility of being happy, when you blame yourself for everything that happened with the Accords. But Steve, no one blames you. We all decided for ourselves. It was our decision. Plus…” She took a deep breath and took her hand away, looking at her phone. “The only person you are really punishing now is her. She doesn’t know why you’re about to break your promise, why you never contacted her. She may look like a tough cookie, but Steve, she is a broken glass. And trust me with this.” She got up and put a hand on his tensed shoulders. “When someone as broken as she gives someone her heart, it’s a huge step.” Captain looked up wanting to say something, but decided to stay quiet seeing Nat’s look. She smiled sadly at him and sat next to Sam, who just shook his head at his friend, as a symbol that he thought the same as Romanoff.

Steven Grant Rogers was never good with women. In the 40’s he was a skinny nobody. A sickly boy who could not even stand a chance in the alley fight. Always defended by Bucky, he never dreamt that any girl would ever look his way. Even during double dates that Barnes tried to set him up on, he was always just a shadow ignored by the dame, who was more interested in his friend than him.

But then he went to the army and met her. Agent Carter. Peggy. The most amazing, fierce in the most sexy way possible, and beautiful gal he ever met. She saw him as more than this skinny nobody. She saw the potential in him, the same as dr Erskine had. She was by his side when he was injected by the serum, when he disobeyed the orders to go find Bucky, when he lost his best friend, and (she was with him) till the last minute, until the plane crashed. He fell in love with her quickly and deeply. His first love. When he woke up 70 years later the only thing he thought about was the date he had missed with the love of his life.

When he finally found her she was an old, dying lady. But still as beautiful as he remembered her. Still as witty and cheeky as those 70 years ago. But she was a mother and a wife to some other man. She wasn’t his. He lost his chance to be with the love of his life. At the funeral… No, still in the hospital when he saw the tears in her eyes, he realized that he would never be happy again. Not with any other woman. His love, his soul mate, as he stupidity believed, was gone. He decided to dedicate himself to work or whatever that was, and deal with the fact that love was not for him. Not anymore. He had his chance and it blew.

But there you were. You were there for him when he didn’t even notice. You were the one who found Peggy for him, you were the one that saved their asses in Washington. And you continued to be there for him. You went against Tony, against Ross, the government, the UN. Everyone. You went with him and welcomed him to your home. Your get-away from the harsh world, from reality. You told him about your family, fears, favourite colour, how you hated tomatoes but you loved ketchup, spaghetti and bloody Mary. How you always have wanted to have a dog and a lizard, but because of the job you never could.

One night, when he was falling asleep, he realised with pure fear that he was falling for you. For this normal, amazing, sweet and beautiful from inside and out woman. You were different from Peggy, but in this positive way. You were different. Different from anything he has ever met. He felt calm and safe with you. He felt domestic when you cooked him dinner, or when you just sat on the couch and read a book. He loved when you read to him some of the poetry from the times he missed. He loved your voice. So soothing and calm. He remembered always falling asleep with his head on your knees. Your hands gently stroking his hair. You always sat there, letting him sleep. No matter how uncomfortable it was.

And then the kiss happened. The electricity he felt when your lips met was something he had never experienced before. Not even with Peggy. And it scared him. He feared this feeling so much, that when he felt your hands on his belt he froze and panicked. It was going too fast.

He expected to see the disappointment and anger in your eyes when he pulled away. But you only smiled at him and gave him one of your lovely gazes. You made him relax and forget about the embarrassment he felt. You were so patient and understanding that it drove him crazy. Because he was already so in love with you. And when you were both watching an awful movie, and your hand was moving so close to his aching cock he couldn’t take it any longer. He he made love to you and believed, at the time, that everything will work out.

But everything changed when he woke up and noticed a message from Sam about ‘needing him ASAP’. It was then that he realised that a normal, domestic life was not for him. He was a soldier, a fugitive, a criminal. He could not pull you into this world. You were too innocent, too sweet to follow him into this darkness. So he packed, and leaving only a letter, he stepped out of the house, without even a goodbye kiss.

When he wrote that letter he hoped that maybe he will change his mind. Maybe something will change and he would come back and just be with you. Have this damn, beautiful life Stark could not shut up about. He wanted it, but he knew it wasn’t for him.

He hated himself when he asked Sam and Nat not to contact you. He knew they were your friends, and that you meant a lot to them. But he practically begged them. He told them about the time you spent together, the kiss, the night and the letter. They were not happy with it, but decided to accept his request. He knew it pained them greatly not to talk to you, but he thought it was what was best for you.

He felt even worse when Natasha finally decided to talk to him. He never thought that he hurt you so much. He hoped that his actions would bring you peace. But seeing your crying face rested on the bed you both once shared pained him so much. He watched you from the shadow, when you prepared the dinner and then cleaned it up. How many times did he want to just walk to you and pull you into his arms and spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted it so badly, but the fear of actually hurting you was too much for him. He was scared. Afraid for you.

But there you were. All in tears. Laying in that bed that held this one amazing memory. Your body, the way you smiled at him when he kissed you harder and more passionate than anytime before. The way you looked at him when you took his clothes off, and let him do the same to yours. They way your lips curled around his cock bringing him the pleasure he has never experienced before. The way you swallowed him with this beautiful smile and stars in your eyes. The way you experienced his body, inch by inch, and enjoyed every minute of it.

He remembered the silkiness of your skin, the flavoured he cherished so much when he tasted you. The moans that you made, those beautiful noises that made him want more and more with every swipe of his tongue. And this alluring side of you when you came groaning his name. He never felt so proud as he felt in that moment. He never felt as happy as when you turned him on his back and slowly, enjoying every stretch, you sat on his burying himself in your tight pussy. The feeling of your walls clenching his cock made him go over the moon, and oh the fear of finishing it too quickly. But one look over your blessed face and he knew he wanted to give you pleasure, hear you call his name again, listen to those moans and whines. He never knew he could make a woman so happy, and the thought of bringing tears to your eyes when you came again was everything to him.

THE ANGST:

He wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to be safe and start everything over. Without him being the barrier. He hoped that one day you would be able to forgive him and go on with your life. Even if it meant with someone else.

So he took the last glance your way. The glance he would cherish till the end of his life. The glance that would haunt him forever as the picture of how much he hurt you. Remembering the laughs and subtle smiles you gave him, he took the letter he wrote to you and shoved it through the doors.

And with his heart breaking piece by piece, he turned on his heel and left, agreed with Natasha, he was a cowards.

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke up, but the sun was almost down and you felt even more tired than before sleeping. Your eyes hurt from crying, and your head felt heavy. You walked down the stairs and the first thing you saw was an envelope with your name on it under the doors.

You opened it and your heart froze when you recognised the handwriting. Steve. You suppressed the tears and started reading.

Sweetheart,

God I don’t think I have a right to call you that anymore. Nat called me a coward, but I think a jerk would be a better term. Jesus, I miss you so much, and I wished that I was able to just get my head out of my ass and just stay here with you, in this beautiful house and call it home.

But I can’t. Y/N, sweetheart, the love of my life. After Peggy i never thought I would be able to call anyone like that. But here you are. This amazing human being. You see me not as a Captain, but Steve Rogers. You probably know me better than anyone, including me. This is why I hope you will understand why I have to do this.

Being with you would probably be the best thing that would ever happen in my life. Writing this I can imagine myself waking up to see that beautiful face of yours. I dared myself to create this beautiful image in my head where we have this family with two boys and a little princess girl, who would have the same beautiful eyes as you. And a dog. And a lizard you would name and take care of, because I would be too afraid to approach it.

I am being such a jerk right now. I know. God the night we spent together, the promises of love I gave you were not a lie. And I need you to know that! I love you, sweetheart. I love you more than anything in this entire world, but I cannot be with you.

Call it cowardness or selfishness. But I believe that being with you would only bring you danger. And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I want you to have a life you deserve and a life with me is not it.

I am a fugitive, a runaway, a criminal. I have to hide all the time and be reminded by the fact that I can never truly be free. I made that choice and I cannot expect you to follow it. It breaks my heart, but I do truly believe that if I want to see you happy I need to let you go.

And seeing you happy is the wish of my life. My dream come true. I will keep my eye on you, to make sure you’re safe. Sweetheart, baby, my sweet darling I want you to live your life and enjoy it, even if it means with someone who isn’t me. I want this for you, even if it will break me.

I know asking you this is too much. But please do not grow to hate me. Writing this letter and saying goodbye to you is the hardests and most painful decision of my life, and I did land a plane in the ocean. So please don’t hate me. Live your life the best you can and be happy.

I love you with all my heart.

Steven Grant Rogers.

P.S. Forgive Sam and Nat for not contacting you, it was because of me . But I would not want you to lose your friends so I will ask them to call you when we will be in safe grounds.

You fell on your knees, not even trying to control the tears that started to flow. This was over. It should not really hurt that much. It hasn’t really started yet, but this one night, the time you spent with him… He loved you and he still left.

Hate him? How could you ever hate him. He was a good man, with a beautiful, innocent heart. You didn’t hate him. What was more, you loved him even more. And this had broken you even further.

Happy ending:

He wanted a normal life so much. He wanted to have a simple taste of it even if just for a while. He wanted to feel your warmth and hear your awful jokes. So he made up his mind. It was selfish but this one time he would listen to Nat and Tony and get the life he always wanted.

A knock on a door woke you up. You quickly stood up, afraid. No one should know of this place and there was no way for anyone to track you. You made sure of that. So you took a small gun from your night stand and went to the doors.

"Who… who is it?" You asked, your voice shaky and raspy from the sleep.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm late…" you put the gun away and opened the doors, your eyes widened and heart beat fastened. There he was. In his civil clothes, a sign of a beard and his hair grown a bit. But it was him. Steve fucking Rogers. There he was, nervously smiling at you with the eyes shining with hope. "Hey, still in your pyjamas?" You opened your mouth but no words came out. You could not believe it. You have been crying your eyes out the whole night for him. The man who broke your heart was here. But why? To pick up the pieces of your heart or to break it even more? "Can I come in, sweetheart?" You stepped away and opened the door a bit more for him to enter.

"You… you came back… why?" You asked, hugging yourself, almost afraid to hear the answer to that question. He raised his brow and smiled sadly. You looked tired, weak and fragile. And yet so beautiful.

"I promised, right? I promised I'll come back to you."

"You haven't contacted me… not a call, no message not even a stupid email saying you were alive, you were fine… that you even planned on coming back!" You finally hissed, pushing him away by his chest. "You left with no words of goodbye!" Your voice was shaking and getting higher. With every word you were pushing at him, punching his damn muscular chest. "You left after you screwed me! Damn it, Steve I thought you were different. Better than that." Your open handed punches turned into fist ones. "I thought you loved me. I thought I was more than some toy…". He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, crashing you into a hug.

"I'm sorry, doll. I am so sorry" his hands came around your body, pulling you as close as it was only possible. "Jesus baby I never thought of you as a… gosh… a toy? Really?!" He pulled you away and looked in your eyes. "I love you. I love you so much but I was a coward. A jerk! I though not contacting you and leaving would bring you peace…"

"So why are you here?" You cried, your fingers clutching onto his jacket.

"Because I love you. So much!" He smiled and run his finger through your lip. "I'm tired of running away. I want to know how it is to be Steve Rogers, a normal guy. A man with a beautiful woman by his side and a possibility of a normal life."

"What about the Accords?"

"I plan on meeting with Tony. Have a talk, maybe figure something out." He connected his forehead with yours and sighed. "I want to have a normal life with you, if you let me. If you want me here, in you little asylum, your home…" there were pleading tears in his eyes and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"You stupid idiot!" You chuckled and kissed him softly. "It's not my home…" he frowned but smiled when you kissed him again. "It's ours."

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

Drabble: Waterworks (baon)

Summary: It was nice of Stretch to send him a text as to where he was, but what he was doing might have been a nice addition.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluff, A Little Angst

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it Here!

~~*~~

babe we r @ the field, whnevr u r home

Edge got the text a full hour before he was due to leave work and much as he appreciated the information, it did bring up questions. For example, what were ‘they’ doing in the field and who precisely were the others in the equation of ‘we’ and ‘they’.

It was a coin toss as to whether asking those questions would simply create more, and in the end, Edge chose ignorance. He’d learn soon enough what was going on and what countermeasures might be necessary.

When he finally returned to New New Home that afternoon, taking the time to change out of his work clothes before walking to the field by the school, his questions were very quickly answered.

The ‘what’ was an elaborate maze of sprinklers set up across the grass, hoses crisscrossing the road and feeding into them. Garden sprinklers, slip and slides, ones with clown faces and wildly waving tubes spraying water along with little splash pads and various plastic animals spewing fountains. It looked as if somewhere there was a supercenter with their supply of summertime waterworks completely emptied.

Beneath the spraying water was what looked like every child in New New Home, Stretch’s normal minions and many others, squealing and running through the shower.

At a safe distance from the chaos was a collection of parents in lawn chairs, watching their offspring with various expressions of indulgence. With them, in a chair of his own and dressed unusually in light summer clothes was Antwan, and his smile was perfectly indulgent as well, if completely different.

In the middle of it all, towering over the youngsters, was his husband. Stretch was wearing swim trunks with what looked like sharks eating tacos swarming the fabric and a tank top declaring ‘lifeguard on duty’, both of which were dripping wet. A whistle hung from a string around his neck and whatever he was shouting was lost in the laughter of children and the roar of the water.

On the other side, closer to slip and slides, was Jeff. He was in a plain pair of trunks and another lifeguard tank top with a whistle of his own around his neck. Thick white lotion was smeared on his nose, and he was gesturing wildly to a group of older children who seemed to be involved in some sort of relay race.

They were all laughing.

Edge kept back and watched, not because his jeans and T-shirt were unsuitable, they were, but because the sight of Stretch laughing with such pure delight sent a pleasant cramp through his soul. A pulse of love so strong he needed a moment to process it.

As he watched, one of the children slipped and fell, tears instantly mingling with the falling water as she wailed. One of the parents shifted in their chair, but Stretch was there faster than a shortcut, crouching down to soothe her, and whatever he said soon had her laughing again and scrambling back to her feet to join the others.

Edge smiled, helplessly, ignoring the very different pang in his soul.

As Stretch stood back up, he caught sight of Edge and it seemed impossible that his delight could double, tipping over into pure joy. Stretch darted over to him and for the first time in recent memory, Edge took an instinctive step back, away from close to seven feet of dripping wet enthusiasm.

Stretch only laughed and stopped a couple feet back. “sorry, i am little damp.” He swiped his fingers down his shirt and flicked them at Edge, casting the faintest spray of wet.

“Slightly, yes.” Edge said and his tone was the driest thing there.

“how did we do?” Stretch gestured grandly at the watery scene behind him. “not bad, right!”

“It’s certainly something,” Edge agreed. A tangled chaos of a water wonderland, complete with a collection of little ones. ‘Something’ seemed to be the easiest descriptor.

Stretch’s grin only widened. “that’s what i love about you, sweetheart, your fancy way with words.” There was the sound of a whistle, Jeff calling over to a group of kids who were trying to climb on what looked like a grinning fire hydrant. Stretch grimaced. “whoops. duty calls. see ya, babe!”

He was gone as quickly as he’d arrived, jogging back over with his whistle howling, water dripping from him all the way to his sandals.

“My sister tells me that he and that friend of his spent all morning setting this up.”

Edge turned to see Janice walking up to him. She’d changed from her business pantsuit to shorts and was carrying a folding chair. Her gaze flicked from Edge to the playing children, a couple of whom were her own, their fur drenched as they giggled and ran.

“I’m sure he did,” Edge said dryly. “Stretch is a very hard worker when the end results meet his standards of amusement.”

She laughed. “Of course. He’s very good with them, isn’t he.”

“He is,” Edge said, a touch curtly. It was a lead-up he’d heard before, inevitably heading down a path of questions about when they would have their own. Questions that were certainly no one else’s business but his and Stretch’s, and that every time pressed on an internal bruise, a faint hope that he’d willingly set aside but still pained him on occasion.

He’d made his choice in that and did not regret it. It didn’t mean that the bruise didn’t linger. That it didn’t occasionally ache.

But Janice only smiled. “Since they spent all day on this, how do you feel about, oh, a community picnic? If everyone runs home to get something to share, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Edge admitted. Certainly easier than dragging any of that crowd home for dinner.

“Wonderful! I’ll go spread the word, get some of our burlier neighbors to bring over picnic tables.” She walked determinedly over to lounging crowd of adults with the same brisk efficiency that made her an excellent assistant. In no time at all, other parents were standing, nodding agreeably and headed towards their homes to see what food offerings they could bring.

Edge was ready to do the same. All he needed to do was tear his gaze from where Stretch was beneath the falling water. Right then he was leaning down almost far enough to lose his balance while a toddler clung to his slim fingers and wobbled through the spray on chubby legs. Both of them were gleeful, the child crowing happily and Stretch…

Streams of water were trickling down his skull, that perfect ivory bone glistening in the sunlight and he was laughing, shuffling along awkwardly with someone else’s child in his hands.

Edge looked away, turning his back on that enchanting joy before he gave in and joined him, jeans be damned. He turned his thoughts towards their refrigerator instead, mentally cataloging what was currently in it and what they had to offer an impromptu buffet.

He might put on his swim trunks while he was there.

-finis-

Notes:

So many people have asked for a reminder about why Edge and Stretch don’t want children that I thought I should include a link to the story.

They discussed it...sort of...in The Gyft That Keeps On Giving

What it boils down to though is that Stretch doesn’t want children for any number of reasons, but his health is a huge factor. And Edge might want children but only with Stretch. So they’ve agreed not to have children.

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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borkingbarnes · 6 years

Text

Soldier

Based off of one of my current favourite songs, Soldier by Fleurie. It just reminds me so much of Steve. I’d highly recommend giving it a listen.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Some angst, I guess, fluff and sweetness.

A/N: Hey guys, so I had a different fic queued for this week, but due to certain circumstances, I just couldn’t bring myself to finish that one. I’ve been having an off couple of days, but writing this was really therapeutic for me and I really do love this one a lot. I hope you guys love it too.

(Soldier keep on marching on Head down till the work is done Waiting on that morning sun Soldier keep on marching on)

‘How did I end up here?’ He questions, eyes bleary from smoke and soot. He’s been alive for a hundred years, and spent almost three quarters frozen; almost half of the remaining years fighting. Even when he decided to lay down his life fighting, he was yanked back and thrown into the battlefield once more. He was sick of fighting. Sick of violence and a world where one battle won meant there were fifty new ones to be fought. He just wishes it to stop. Wishes there would be no more destruction and deaths of innocents. He just wants it all to end. To stop fighting and finally rest.

But he knows he can’t. So he continues, because he’s Captain America. He’s the symbol of the country, and he couldn’t live with himself if he stopped fighting for those that couldn’t fight for themselves. His conscience just wouldn’t allow it.

So he fights. Continues to fight the battles that seem to break off and carry away a piece of his soul each time, little by little. He leaves a little fragment behind during each and every battle, but he has to continue. For the people. For the world.

(Head in the dust, feet in the fire Labour on that midnight wire Listening for that angel choir You got nowhere to run)

He spares a glance around, flames, smoke, and ash surrounding him. Dead enemies lie scattered amongst the rubble, but even more emerge from seemingly out of nowhere. A swift kick to the chest sends one flying as gunfire from behind him drops another. He’s thankful for his teammates who have his back, but he’s exhausted and just wants to hear the sound of his favourite voice one more time.

He allows himself a brief moment, closing his eyes for a second as he repeats the sweet angelic melody she sang to him the night before he left in his head before continues fighting.

This was his life. No escape, and no backing down. He’s trapped in an endless cycle and he’s got nowhere to run other than right through the flames. He just hopes that she’ll be on the other side of them, waiting for him. He would fight with every ounce of strength he had left if it meant he could hear her voice once more.

(You wanna take a drink of that promise land Gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands Careful son you got dreamers plans But it gets hard to stand)

It’s midnight by the time the jet lands. He’s been awake for 96 hours straight, fighting for what was right. The adrenaline has worn off, and his head now feels groggy, his thoughts turning to rubble and fragments like the scene of the prior battle that took place. Sure he’s enhanced, but he’s no god, and though stronger than the average man, he too had limits and his body was bound to give out sometime.

There are tears in his suit, scorch marks on his arms and legs, and dried blood seems to decorate his body like a sadistic design. His movements are almost robotic, as if programmed into his being as he exits off the ramp. He just wants to hear her voice. Have her tell him that it’s okay now, that he can give into the tiredness and rest his head by hers.

He strains his ears for any sound of her as he looks around the hangar, and a deep breath leaves him when worrisome eyes meet his as his name tumbles from lips her like a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to carry his lifeless body off the jet, and she can hold him again, even if it’s just for a while.

She engulfs him in a hug, her body melting into his as he holds her tight, afraid that she’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Her scent fills his lungs, and it feels like he can breathe for the first time since he’d left. Her presence and warmth surround him, soothing his worn out mind and soul.

She pulls back to look at him, gentle fingers tracing lightly under the cut across his cheekbone. Her brows furrow as she takes in his battered appearance and god did he hate it when she worried for him.

One of his hands leaves her waist to capture her hand in his, bringing it to his lips as he presses a kiss to her knuckles and she smiles slightly, the scratch of his beard tickling her soft skin. Letting go of her hand, he grazes the backs of his fingers against her cheek. She closes her eyes at the soft touch, committing it to memory, just in case.

He leans closer to her, her warm breath fanning his face. There’s a slight hitch when he hovers his lips on hers, eyes still closed as his hand moves to cup her cheek, thumb stroking the delicate skin. The softness of her beneath his fingertips is a welcomed contrast to the rough material of his gloves and the hardness of shattering bones and debris. A smudge of dirt is left behind where his thumb strokes her face, but she doesn’t mind. She’d wash it off later, as well as help rid the grime and heaviness that clung onto the tired man she loved.

He finally closes the millimetre gap that separates them, tasting the sweetness of her lips. She was like the first drop of cool water after months in the desert and he drunk her up as if he’d never get another chance.

A heavy breath leaves him as he rests his forehead against hers, their breathing mingling from the closeness. She’s beautiful, he thinks, pulling back to press a kiss to her hairline. He plans on taking her somewhere nice when they get a few days off. Thinks that he’ll treat her to some good food and some relaxation that they both desperately needed. But for now, the aching in his tired limbs makes it hard to stand as he slumps into her a little. She’s got him, though. And she always will.

(Soldier keep on marching on Head down till the work is done Waiting on that morning sun Soldier keep on marching on)

The leadened feeling of fatigue begins to tinge his muscles, each punch, jab, and throw seeming harder than the last. It’s another fight. Another Hydra base. Another merciless battle. Just another day, he supposes, but he’s got her by his side this time.

From the corner of his peripheral, he sees an operative on the floor above, gun pointed at the girl he would give everything for. He doesn’t have a way up to disarm the man, so instead he sprints to her, grabbing her by waist as a bullet pierces the wall where she stood moments before. He looks into her eyes as she gives him a nod, and he only has a moment to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, lips barely grazing her skin before they spring back into action, but the fleeting feel of her was enough to last him through the gunfire and explosions that would not cease until there were no more enemies standing.

He may have saved her life in the battlefield, but in reality, she saved his daily so that he could keep pressing on.

(Quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast Hide your soul out of his reach Shiver to that broken beat Dark into the heat)

It’s silent before a broken scream pierces the air. It’s strangled and raw, the epitome of fear, pain, and brokenness, all rolled into one mangled sound. His upper body shoots up from the bed, chest heaving up and down in shallow pants as wild eyes scan every inch of the room. He flinches when a warm hand rests against his waist, tender fingers smoothing his side. Frantic eyes meet soft ones before she pulls herself up and into his lap.

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him against her as she rubs soothing circles onto his shoulder. It’s a few moments before his brain registers that it’s her before his arms go around her waist, tightening as he presses his face into the crook of her neck.

Sweet comfort is whispered into soft blond tresses as she holds him when he’s consumed by intense shaking. The wretched talons of fear and anguish grip him, suffocating his lungs and squeezing his chest with unrelenting force. Visions of blood, death, and decay flash before his eyes as panic laces his bones. It’s so hard to breathe, but she guides him through it; in and out, in and out. Promises of togetherness, stability, and closeness are made in murmurs against cold, sweat-drenched skin as moments, minutes, and hours tick by, the contact of her body against his tethering him back to reality one string at a time.

Trickles of early morning light fills the room by the time he seems to calm, his once erratic heartbeat slowing to match the steady rhythm of hers. He clings onto her, afraid that the monsters that consumed his mind would rip her from his grasp. The hold that she returns him doesn’t falter as soft lips pepper tense muscles. She won’t let him go. Won’t let the darkness take him away as her warmth seems to travel into him through her fingertips. The heat of her touch drives out the soulcrushing numbness, and for the first time since he jolted awake, he no longer felt cold. The darkness was gone; she remained.

(Head down till the work is done Waiting on that morning sun Soldier keep on marching on Soldier keep on marching on)

Its a persistent drone of expectations and responsibilities in the back of his brain that come with the title of Captain America. He continues fighting despite the soreness in his bones and the aching in his heart for some sort of break from the blood and violence; yearns for even just a hint of normalcy.

He craves domesticity like a man starved of food, and she offered it to him in the small ways that she could. He found it in her simple gestures while she wore his shirt in the morning, the fabric hanging down to her thighs as the loose collar droops off of one shoulder. It was on those rare mornings where job requirements didn’t get in the way so she could cook him breakfast with soft music playing in the background. He would find her standing in front of the stove, hips swaying lightly to the music with smudges of pancake batter on her arm. A soft smile would make its way onto his face and he can’t help but wrap his arms around his favourite girl, just wanting to hold her close and feel her beneath his fingertips.

His favourite were the mornings that they could spend wrapped up in each others arms with soft caresses, tender eyes and shared warmth. Knowing you’ll wake up with your significant other safe and alive in the morning was a precious commodity taken for granted by those who didn’t live in the chaotic mess that were their lives. He never fails to cherish each and every one.

He keeps fighting, for the good that he believes in. For her.

(Soldier keep on marching on)

He’s tired and sometimes, he just wants to give up; but having her by his side, it’s easier to keep marching on.

Tags: @sgtjbuccky @silver-starburst @chrevastan @boopboopbarnes @goldenkillmonger @just-add-butter @1xxmrsalphaxx1 @sadbhabie2020 @coal000 @jaamesbbarnes @dewy-biitch @capbuckybuchanan

Masterlist

#Steve rogers #Steve rogers x reader #Chris evans #captain America #captain America x reader #Steve rogers x fem reader #avengers #marvel #marvel imagine #captain america imagine #Steve rogers imagine #Steve rogers one shot

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o0o-chibaken-o0o · 7 years

Note

Know any fics that feature lots of angst but with a happy ending? (on 2nd thoughts, without a happy ending is fine as well) Thank you

Hello anon! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I’ve been pretty busy recently and also angst is really not super my thing?? But because I have an insatiable need to read every highly-recommended Drarry fic, I have inevitably read a few really good angsty ones! Just keep in mind that my threshold for angst is not very high, and these will all have a happy ending ;)In Pieces by Cheryl Dyson (85K)- Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new DADA instructor, only to find his teaching efforts thwarted by a very familiar ghost.This fic is absolutely amazing and filled with lots of fluff but also inevitably tons of angst because Draco is a ghost??? They can’t even touch??? *cries* I remember feeling like there was no way it could possibly work out happily and believably but I was VERY pleasantly surprised!

To Those Who Wait by loveglowsinthedark (8.5K)- Harry’s come is trickling out of my arse as I say ‘I do’ and promise to love and cherish Blaise in sickness and in health.The love of my life is preparing to leave the country as I smile for photographs.The excruciating agony of my heart shattering nearly brings me to my knees on what ought to have been the happiest day of my life.This fic is fucking FABULOUS if you want angst with a happy ending. And I’m not just saying that because @l0vegl0wsinthedark is my main bitch. Harry and Draco are basically soul mates they are so made for each other, but absurdly tragic circumstances have split them up (for now). I bet reading the summary alone has already made your heart ache and now the only way to soothe it is to go read the rest ASAP, so DO IT. Another Mask Behind You by lettered (116.5K)- Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)This has a lot of things you should check the warnings for, but among them is ANGST LIKE WOAH. A mistaken(hidden?) identity fic and yeah I would be angsty too if I found out I had been unknowingly fucking and falling in love with my schoolboy rival! It’s soooo well-written and probably the angstiest fic I have ever LOVED. So much else (aka mostly hot hot sex!) more than made up for the stress it caused me! Another angsty and amazing fic that you should definitely read by lettered is The Boy Who Only Lived Twice, which also contains mistaken identity of a sort!

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (114K)- Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?kfhdsjrg3hi SOUL MARKS!!! c;mbxneiu EIGHTH YEAR!!! rewuy,obsk AMAZING AUTHOR!!! Need I say more? (Idk if this one counts as “really” angsty but it has an angst tag and a pining tag and I just ran across it again and really want to rec it???)

In His Nature by create_serenity (20.5K)- Harry agreed to have sex with Draco once a month in order to keep him alive, what he didn’t agree to was Draco popping up all over the place and disrupting his life in more ways than one.Veela!Draco fic in which he needs sex with his mate to keep him alive. At first Harry thinks he’s doing Malfoy a huge favor, but soon he realizes how much pain he’s causing Draco by limiting their interactions and works on fixing that :).

Something Always (Brings Me Back to You) by Kedavranox (10K)- The Centre for Magical Theory and Complex Spell Classifications keeps fucking with Harry’s dig sites, and he’s pretty sure Malfoy has ulterior motives.This is a getting-back-together fic… but of course it can’t happen without several misunderstandings and life-threatening situations! Yep, yep. Definitely plenty of angst here.

Also I really can’t choose a specific one (there are so many!!) but most of the longer works by Lomonaaeren have a healthy dose of angst! She has a very unique style, but if you like it (I do!!) then her literal hundreds of fics are a goldmine!

#drarry #rec list #drarry recs #drarry fics #angst #drarry angst #angst recs #harry potter #hp recs #chibarecs

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