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earthearthearththearth · 9 months

Note

Third date head canons! Like when you know it’s ‘for sure’

When The Mercs Know It's For Sure(TF2)

Includes: The Mercs, Miss Pauling notes:Yes, squeet is a kurtis conner reference

🛠Engineer- Bringing out all those nicknames. Darling, sweetheart, love, honey. Yeah. He likes to be sure of his feelings before getting with someone and honey, he is SURE. I think that for a third date, like most of them it would be very casual. Sometimes he likes to sing some songs for the mercs, mostly just pyro, heavy, and demo because the rest ‘got better things to do’. He specifically tells you about it this time. Usually if you show up it’s because you over hear. He’d sing a few ditties, but since is he corny-comes from being a country guy, zing, he sings a song you can’t quite ping as a love song. If you do manage to pick up on that, who knows if it’s to you. But you know for sure when he ends up asking you to be official a little while later when it’s just you two

🔥Pyro-I don’t imagine Pyro to take you out on “real” dates. He asks you to come along with him on missions and just anything he decides to do. Or he asks(or doesn’t) to follow you around. So the ‘third date’ is just normal to you. He looks at you a lot. Just sits and stares. At first it scares you a little. Just big..black..voids..staring…into..your…soul. You ask him what the deal is sometimes and he just laughs or shakes his head like you wouldn’t get it. You like Pyro, but these signs you’re getting could literally mean anything. So you ask the one person who can understand him, Engie, who says Pyro’s just head over heels for you. You ask Pyro if this is true, who is a bit flustered that you told someone about it, even if Engie already knew. I think Pyro signs sometimes, so you two have a little conversationa and whabam. Yall get together

⚾Scout-So he’s like…quieter and somehow more talkative? A lot of “Uh Yeah, that’s stupid”s. You tell him you’re listening, but it’s a lost cause. When he’s not packing his little knapsack and walking away sadly, he calls you “toots”. Lots of that. Still lots of flexing both his skills at picking things up or his little noodly arms. The date isn’t a prom this time, but very reminiscent of Spy’s teachings since there aren’t any giant bread monsters to save you from. Unless…no. Too risky. The date is literally just a set up to ask you out.

“Sure are a lot of stars out tonight.”

“Kinda cloudy..”

“Nah, look, there’s one!”

“Scout, that’s a plane.”

“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky-”

Turns out the plane is an enemy plane about to bomb the base. You both die immediantly.

Kidding, he just is kinda like “So…I’m kinda into you?” So of course you tell him you know, and end up asking him out instead.

🦅Soldier- A date for him is breaking the necks of anyone who dare disrespect america. Kilometer? He only knows squeet. But if you don’t feel like breaking the neck of your local Australian, then there’s other fun activities to do. Like fighting bears or getting naked and covering yourself with honey. Or perhaps you want to go break open a beehive to get said honey. No? Jesus, lot of fun you are. The date is just a plan then. Get out the blueprint, plan for the next mission, which will probably be one of the previously mentioned activities. Since you’re helping the planning stage, it’ll probably be easier to convince him to let you stay out of all that. I don’t know how he’d ask you out. He’d probably just announce that he has an s/o now and you’re like “this is news”. But since you’re here, you’re probably cool with it.

🗡Spy-Yes his dates are elaborate and fun and fancy, however him asking you to be official is not as much. When he realizes he knows that you and him are For Sure, he is flustered by you. Spy may be suave and French, but he is very easily flustered if you can outdo him with words, and do not let him forget it. Not that you could. The third date is set up by him. He makes a little spot in his smoking room for you two and cooks up something you probably can’t pronounce. You find the intimacy a little strange, and before now you couldn’t tell if he actually liked you or was just playing around. But now, with this whole set-up made by him, you knew. He gives you a little necklace, something simple but clearly expensive. With that, he finally pops the not-marriage question, but gosh does it feel like it.

💉Medic-So he gives you the Blu medic’s heart. It’s in a nice little box, and the next time you visit his office he hands it to you. This is because it’s the closest he can get to his own heart. He tried. Unfortunately during this he almost died, so the Blu heart is the closest you get. His plan was to have you guys dig it out together, but he is very particular. He can’t have his love get in the way of science. Hopefully you appreciate it because you are very special to him! Maybe he’ll let you dissect it for fun and definitely because he doesn’t have some strange feelings about seeing you covered in blood commiting atrocious acts.

💣Demoman-So the first few dates were not getting shitfaced, but now that it’s the third, he’s gonna take you to where he spends a fair majority of his time. Having a teleporter makes traveling real easy, but he figures it’s a bit more romantic to drive. So he takes you with him to drive to a little hole-in-the-wall bar, the only one around. It starts out rather calm, but eventually he gets shitfaced and real clingy. You drink some, but yall need a designated driver that can at least see straight. You guys probably fall asleep in the car in the parking lot, but you know. Sometimes it’s like that. When you guys finally wake up and discuss what you can remember, he says he loves you. Aw.

🦘Sniper-Everyone on this list is a little weirdo and he is no exception. The date isn’t a date. He’s not a date guy. Maybe he picks you up a flower or rock he sees poking out of the desert, but that’s it. It’s the thought that counts. So the ‘third date’ is probably really early in the morning when you two cross paths. He says something like, “I was thinking you and I could get together for a while.” And you ask how long a while is, which results in “I dunno, I just like you”. Sweet. Yeah he’s uh. Not the most romantic guy around, but he tries.

🐻Heavy-A bit more romantic. The third date is just the two of you. He asks if you’d like to cook together which you accept, knowing he won’t blow the kitchen up. It’s calm and quiet. Until Pyro decides he wants to use the oven and yall gotta practically shoo him out with a broom. What’s cookin is good lookin’. It is looking good. You guys win! I think you’d end up asking Heavy out because he is very patient and doesn’t want to put pressure on you since it is a war that you two are in still.

👓Miss Pauling-The same as the first. If she’s going out with you on one date, then she’s probably into you a lot. One day off a year, you know? So you two would just hang out. She’d be like really nervous for some reason-you had noticed it before but she seems kind of stand-offish. You ask her what’s up, prompting her to tell you a jumble of sort-of words that you finally make out to be a confession.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #headcanons #tf2 x reader #x reader #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #miss pauling #tf2 miss pauling #pyro tf2 #tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 soldier #tf2 headcanons #tf2 heavy

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sie-rui · 3 years

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Hello lovely! I loved the scenario you did //It’s only you—their s/o overhears someone confessing to them and gets insecure 🤍🤍 for Mikey and Chifuyu!! I wanted to request them but this time..reversed!// Like they overhear someone confessing to their s/o and gets insecure 🥺🤍 reader reassures them ofc~she wants no one but him:,)

❀ IT’S STILL YOU | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 sano manjiro, matsuno chifuyu 💿 female reader, second pov (you/your), angst and fluff, established relationship, au - everyone lives / nobody dies, timeline: highschool, imagine 📅 july 04, 2021 🔗 masterlist ,, version: alternative

they may be quite popular at school but they know their flaws as well. they can't help but feel insecure when someone confesses to their s/o, realizing that you could do better than them.

. . . SANO MANJIRO

“Please go out with me, Y/n-san.”

Manjiro’s smile immediately flipped into a frown hearing those words that left the boy’s lips. He didn’t recognize him at first but after a few agonizing seconds of thinking, he finally pinpointed a name to the face: a student two classrooms away, one that you helped quite a few times with studying when you weren’t with Mikey and Draken.

Mikey had known that he had feelings for you, from the way his touch on your shoulder lingered and how he glanced at you while you’re teaching him something on his notebook. He just didn’t expect for the boy to actually confess to you.

He had come here looking for you only to be greeted by a less favored sight of someone else trying to take you from him.

He sits by the wall, pouting with his arms crossed, crossing his legs and awaiting your reply. He knew that you would reject, he can’t expect you to do anything else. Mikey loved you!... You loved him as well, right?

Sure, he isn’t perfect. He’s not smart, doesn’t get perfect grades, doesn’t even participate in classes and just falls asleep. He isn’t that well-mannered either nor is he gentle, rather he’s very pushy and clingy. He isn’t that mature in some moments, always acting on his emotions rather than his head. But… But-

Manjiro falters. Oh god, what if you’re actually tired of him but aren't saying anything because that’s just how you were—always so kind, always so thoughtful? He can’t let you go! He can’t imagine spending his whole life with anyone else...

Baji had warned him of this. Girls like you prefer boys who are mature, who always know what to do and what they want and can make them happy. Manjiro knew that he made you happy but he doesn’t completely trust his brain and his abilities to be in the same league as you.

This boy was the first in his class, prim and proper, has proper etiquette, generally well-liked by both students and teachers, and he’s even a part of the student council.

Mikey takes a quick peek…

He’s quite handsome as well.

You could-

“I’m sorry, I already have a boyfriend and I love him with all my heart.”

He leans back on the wall, feeling as if all the fight left him while relief settles deep on his shoulders.

“O-Oh, yeah, I know. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to tell you.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I hope that we can still be friends after this.” Even without looking, Mikey knew that you were smiling so kindly, hoping for the best. The boy responded positively but Mikey was already standing, ready to walk away.

“Manjiro! Jeez, you need to stop eavesdropping.”

He freezes, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish smile as you stand there with your hands on your waist. You caught him huh… “Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs as you walk up to him.

Expecting a harmless jab to his shoulders, Mikey was surprised that you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “What’s wrong? Jealous?”

When you look up at him, the realization of him being lucky dawns once more, again and again, reminding him. Manjiro loves you, you and your pretty smiles and soft heart. He grins, resting his forehead on yours. “Nah, I just love you.”

. . . MATSUNO CHIFUYU

Chifuyu gnaws at his lips in apprehension.

He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but follow you all the way out here in the empty courtyard when he saw you with another boy. Chifuyu got too curious, alarmed at the fact that the boy was holding your hand.

So here he was, crouching behind some trash cans, trying to convince himself that no, this isn’t weird, I’m just making sure that this asshole isn’t going to do something suspicious.

“I- I like you, Y/n-chan! Please go out with me.”

Chifuyu blinks, unsure if he just heard it right. It wasn’t wrong but it was rare for a male to actually confess to a girl instead of the other way around in their school. Chifuyu definitely confessed to you first, albeit being a little insecure and a little hesitant, ready for rejection.

He wasn’t that surprised though.

You were beautiful, you were kind. Chifuyu was convinced that everyone loved you and it wasn’t too far off from the truth. This guy may have been a senior but even him wasn’t an exception to your charms.

Chifuyu can’t help but gnaw at his lips even more, almost causing it to bleed from how hard he was biting it.

Shit what if you didn’t like Chifuyu anymore? What if you actually didn’t from the very start and only pitied him? You’ve only been dating for two months, if you broke up with him, it wouldn’t change anything that much for you. But it would change everything for Chifuyu.

He frowns, looking down on the ground and ignoring how his legs ache from how long he had been frozen up in that one position.

If you were to agree… If you were to accept the confession… If you were to break up with Chifuyu…

He’d have to let go of you. He didn’t want to. But if it made you happier, if you were happier with him, if you didn’t want Chifuyu anymore… He’d do it a thousand times-

“Sorry, senpai, I’m not interested.”

“Ah… Thanks for your time, Y/n-chan.”

Chifuyu stares at his shoes, fiddling with his shoelaces. He felt so relieved that it was almost suffocating. You can still be his… Even if just for a little while more until you find someone better.

“What are you doing crouching over there, Fuyu?”

He snaps up, seeing you peek at him. Standing up in surprise, he bumps his head onto yours before he once more falls to his bottom, almost hitting the back of head on the bin. “Y/n!”

Chifuyu hurries up while massaging his forehead, heading over to your side to see you also sitting on the floor while holding your head. He kneels in front of you, gently pulling your hand away so you can caress your forehead.

He frets, missing the way you looked at him softly. “Do we need to get it checked in the infirmary?”

You giggle, snapping Chifuyu out of his worried daze. “Y/n?”

Chifuyu tenses when you press your hand on his arm, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on his lips, catching him off guard. You looked at him as if you knew what he was feeling, causing uneasiness to crawl in his veins. “I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.”

His gaze softens and Chifuyu plops down beside you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I should be the one to say that,” he murmurs but you only giggle in response.

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obeymeswdwritings · 2 years

Text

Psychiatrist MC

Characters- All

Gn!Reader

Warnings- Swearing, brotherly chaos and fighting, discussion of mental health and mental disorders/disabilities

Category- Headcanons

No thoughts only MC showing up and diagnosing them with shit immediately

This is based around the idea that they don’t have psychiatrists in the Devildom, and no diagnosis has ever been given.

Lucifer

Very confused by the fact that you keep taking notes in a small notebook, lowkey suspicious of it.

Confiscates it one day to fine numerous unfamiliar words, some crossed out, some circled.

“What does this mean?”

Lucifer, babes, how do you not know the word coping?

Actually, not that surprising, considering his behaviors

Lucifer, that says unhealthy coping mechanisms and you don’t need to know any more than that give back that notebook right this instant

He has questions

Don’t answer them, just run. fucking run. Call Diavolo, jump out of a window, whatever it takes. He can’t be allowed to see the notes.

Mammon

“Can yall shut the fuck up? Kleptomania isn’t fun, y’know. Leave the man alone.”

Thank you for rescuing him but what the fuck is that

He doesn’t know what it is. You’re going to have to explain that kleptomania is compulsive thievery, the symptoms, that no, it’s not greed, etc.

“Nah, I don’t have that” bitch?

He’s going to explain that he steals things to sell, not just to steal, and you’re going to point out he was in trouble for stealing a fucking shoe. A singular goddamn shoe. How the fuck was he planning on selling that?

Mk point made but still

You can give up on trying to explain it or diagnose him, he’s got a point with the selling thing but judging by half his actions he just wants Stuff.

Compulsive hoarder. He’s basically just a stereotypical dragon. Shiny thing, take shiny thing, get yelled at by siblings for taking shiny thing, cry

Leviathan

He’s heard of a lot of things, but only in anime, and assumed they were fictional because of that

So imagine his sheer confusion when you ask him if he has any aids to help with social anxiety

????? that’s a human thing though

You’re going to have to explain that no, not necessarily, and he’s honestly gonna be happy to have an explanation, both because it makes him happy and because you’re the one who gave it to him.

Ask him how much he knows about mental stuff, he’s actually pretty knowledgeable! you might even be able to convince him to get therapy.

Satan

Knew a little about psychology thanks to his book addiction, but had no idea that there was a way he or his brothers might have anything.

Explain the concept of anger issues. Then explain it again.

He’ll be fascinated with psychology as soon as you’re the one explaining it, so you now have someone to chat about it with!

He’s going to become the first demon psychologist. Be proud.

Will accept your diagnosis and also state that he’s doing great and doesn’t need help. for the sake of his remaining dignity, let him.

Asmodeus

He has no insecurities or problems whatsoever!

According to him, at least

This man needs therapy more than a diagnosis for anything

Please, tell him that his feelings are worth something and his thoughts are valid and should be heard.

Make sure he gets to hear things like this constantly, until he can accept them.

Beelzebub

there’s not really any reason to talk to him about his disorder(s), but he’s willing to listen!

Just give him a brief rundown and vibe, maybe teach him a little about not attacking people for eating his food

Belphegor

Narcolepsy. That’s it.

This is where you learn that the main difference with demons is that if the disorder is connected to their sin, there isn’t a way to treat it.

Which Belphie doesn’t really mind, just like he didn’t mind when you wanted to experiment with treatments. (He knew it wouldn’t work, but would’ve agreed regardless)

On the other hand, you get to find out that Belphie dear hasn’t ever had caffeine. It’s just not really a thing in the Devildom.

Well that needs to be remedied

The next day he’s zooming around the house and Lucifer is afraid. He’s got a new way to terrorize the oldest, even if the effects only last an hour or so.

Diavolo

He wants to know everything about psychology. Can you blame him for being so fascinated with this new aspect of humans?

Looks at the papers and makes remarks about different demons he knows showing symptoms. It’s interesting, and a good way to learn about some of the other nobility.

Will help you with any and all research.

You need equipment? Tell him what, he’ll get you the very best.

You need test subjects for a survey? Yeah sure, that’s now an extra credit project they can sign up for.

Mutually beneficial arrangement, you get to learn about demon psyche and he gets to learn about humans.

Barbatos

Interested enough that it becomes a regular topic, and is interested in the types of terms humans use, translating some into the demon language and back to laugh.

You can enjoy debates about whether this noble is a narcissist or not, which is made funnier because you’ve never met them

Solomon

He’s just like “oh shit it’s a NERD”

He’s going to tease you about meeting a new sentient species and going “cool, but can I tell them to go to therapy?”

Will occasionally “join” you in talking to demons about psychology, except it’ll be you two having a loud conversation where you explain something and he makes up words and swears in Latin

Simeon

He’s so confused.

Will 100% use it in his writing, so he’ll often call you over and ask for help with an analysis, an explanation, or just company.

Late night, sleep deprived discussions where he compares narcolepsy to a donut and you genuinely consider it. It has been four days since either of you slept and you recently drank four energy drinks.

Luke

he’s intrigued but not really

As a ten-year-old child, he is incapable of paying attention to anything he doesn’t care about immensely, so lucky you that he’s able to pay attention to you, if not the actual discussion

Talk while he bakes, he likes the company.

#little brother luke #omswd #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me brothers #obey me undateables #gn!reader #obey me hcs #obey me hc #obey me writings

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

In Loving Memory (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @missroro the reader is steve twin and she married to bucky after the blip, she had enough of the 'new captain america' thing shes really mad, so when walker and his friend start talking about joining forces she snap like she pull out a gun and pointing right at them, also sam ofc dont forget about sam. Sam trying to stop her while bucky "nah let her do her fun"

Words: 2021

Warning: !!TFATWS SPOILER!! without context - violence

A/N: wrote this today, it basically follows the events of ep3 of fatws but without context. I have a couple of exams this week so I won't be able to post until next saturday. Until then, enjoy

"You shouldn’t have gave him the shield"

Sam frowned, turning back to look at Bucky.

"I didn’t gave him the shield" He defended himself, making a point.

"Well, Steve definitely didn’t" Y/N ironically answered back.

He gave her a pointed stare. They had had this conversation countless times and Y/N never missed a chance to remind him of what she thought was a huge mistake.

"You are the reason this is happening, Sam. You chose to take on my brother’s legacy and threw it out the window"

The man didn’t reply and pursed his lips. He knew she didn’t mean any of her harsh words, she was angry and still mourning. If taking it out on him could make her feel better, he would let her.

"Y/N, stop" Bucky took a step toward his wife, clasping her hand in his metal one. He had hoped the physical contact would be enough to calm her down.

"He abandoned me, Sam" She continued, her voice filled with emotions. "He was gone and all I had left was memories. I chose this life for him, I fought with him, I believed in everything he represented. I looked up to him, to Captain America. And today, even those memories are gone, taken by the same government you and I were up against, mocked by clowns pretending to be heroes, all because you gave up"

The Falcon closed his eyes and dropped his head. She couldn’t see his point of view, or share his opinions when her judgment was clouded by so much pain. He wished she could understand the dilemma, the duality that represented the shield for him.

"Y/N, please, that’s enough" Bucky whispered next to her ear.

She turned her head toward him and as usual, his heart broke when he saw the torment in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak, she was an open book to him. They both had lost so much and yet were all each other had left. They were collateral damage, their own team against a world that wasn’t theirs anymore. She silently nodded, assuring him she was fine. Sam watched Bucky kissing her forehead and he furrowed his brow. He would never admit it but he was glad they had each other, because no one could carry that much pain alone without crumbling apart.

Before any of them could add anything, soldiers in blue and red erupted in the room, bursting through the door of the apartment where they were hiding in Latvia. Bucky instinctively grabbed Y/N and forced her body to move behind his. The two man stood in front of them, tall and proud, a smug smile on their lips.

"Alright, that’s it, your time is up" The man calling himself Captain America announced, the shield in one hand, the other pointing at the three avengers. "Tell me where Zemo is"

"We know you’re hiding him" His sidekick added.

"I’m ordering you to turn him over"

Sam eyed them up and down.

"Let’s be clear, the only thing you’re running here is your mouth" The Falcon firmly replied, crossing his arms.

"I gave you a chance to work with us" He mentioned.

" ‘For us’ is the correct way to put it, tough guy. And we said no." Y/N reminded him, her face showing how much she was annoyed.

"You’re obviously in over your head so I suggest you turn back and go" Sam argued.

"You really want this conversation to go there ?" The hero threatened.

Bucky straightened up when he felt Y/N tensing. He knew she was already on the verge of snapping. One wrong word from the man she hated and this could go down to hell.

"Should I put down the shield ?" He continued to challenge Sam. "Make it fair?"

The woman groaned and when John Walker dropped his weapon, without a second thought, she grabbed the nearest knife and threw it right at his face. The man had barely enough time to move back and his eyes rose in surprise when the blade stuck itself into the wall with force.

"Sorry, it slipped" She ironically explained, shrugging.

"You don’t want to play this game with me" He tried to intimidate her, tilting his head to the side.

She smiled, pleased he was giving her the opportunity to smack his face. Bucky clenched his fists when he saw her walking in front of Walker. Without tearing her eyes away from his, she seized her knife and pulled it out of the wall with a sharp movement.

"I think someone should teach you a lesson, Walker" She told him in a low tone.

"Are you offering ?" He challenged her.

"Don’t tempt me"

"You’re lucky you’re his sister" He grinned. "But don’t push it. This Captain America is not as lenient as the previous was"

Bucky swore under his breath. It was too late now. And just as Sam looked at him with concern, Y/N threw her fist in a curved punch at the soldier. He used his forearm to counter the blow, but she was faster and had far more experience. Using the momentum, her foot rose up and kicked him in the face. The man was thrown back, shaking his head in confusion.

"We should do something" Sam advised the former assassin.

"No. Let her have her fun" He crossed his arms, harboring a small smirk.

The soldier tried to hit her back, but even when he took the shield she blocked his attack. His sidekick soon joined the fight and distracted her for a second, just enough time for Walker to punch her. Immediately, she felt the taste of blood in her mouth, but no pain. She was passed that, far too pissed to feel anything.

Another blow on her chest send her to the ground and Hoskins hold her down while his friend was about to hit her with her brother’s shield. He raised it in the air, with every intention of beating her, but a strong metal hand stopped him in his movement. A very infuriated Bucky stood before him, his blue eyes darkening with anger. He firmly took the weapon, knocked Hoskins out with it and threw it across the room.

"If you wanted to make it fair, you shouldn’t have chosen to hit my wife" His tone was terrifying.

Walker didn’t seem as confident anymore. Bucky looked imposing, brute force ready to strike. His metal arm clenched in a fist and, without warning, it collided with the soldier’s jaw, sending him a few feet away. He strode to the man on the ground and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform

"This is all easy for you, isn’t it ?" Walker spoke with venom, staring at Bucky. "All that serum running through your veins"

With a swift movement, Y/N took the shield and launched it with power right on the soldier’s chest. The blow was so violent his body crashed into a door before landing on the floor. She was furious by his statement and he could see it with every step she made toward him. She grabbed the gun attached to her thigh and pointed it at his face.

"Lesson number one: learn when to shut up. Especially when you don't know what you're talking about" She was fuming but had not intention on killing the man, despite the sheer desire to do so.

She didn’t realize Sam was next to her until she saw his hand lowering her gun.

"This isn’t what Steve would want." He calmly expressed. "Remember, there’s always another way"

Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes, remembering how many times her brother had told her that. She let him take the weapon and looked up at him. The conviction and kindness in his stare were enough. He didn’t have to say anything. Every words she needed to hear, he spoke them in silence.

She turned back to Bucky and he cupped her face, inspecting the bruise on her skin. He seemed ready to go back and beat the man down. Y/N softly smiled and clasped her hands around his wrists. He stroke her cheek and pulled her toward him before carefully kissing her lips.

"Good ?" He asked in a soft voice he only used with her.

"Good"

It was something between them, a single word they spoke every time they fought. Wherever they were, whomever they were up against, if one of them asked, the other had to answer. It was their intimate way to always know they were alright.

Later that day, Sam and Bucky had decided to go talk to the leader of the Flag Smasher, Karli Morgenthau, while Y/N had been charged to follow Walker and Hoskins. As soon as she had seen they were going after the young super soldier, she had warned her friends about the danger. She knew enough about the new Captain to guess he had no intention on arresting Karli. He wanted to make justice himself. She pitied his sidekick. He seemed like a decent man with good ideas struggling to find virtue on the wrong side of the battle. He was Walker’s collateral damage.

She wondered what Steve would think of all that if he could see them fighting both super soldiers and Captain America. He never cared for the star and stripes, never used his shield to harm. His heart was with the people he defended. Even when it had been against Tony, he pursued what he believed was best. Was that what Walker was trying to do ? She couldn’t know. But she was sure of one thing, the man had nothing in common with Steve. Pride, ego and selfishness were never traits anyone would have used to describe her brother. She couldn’t bear for him to be replaced, especially to a man that didn’t share his morals or any of his opinions. The shield he was carrying wasn’t just a weapon, it was her brother’s symbol of hope, a symbol he had fought so hard to forge. The man made the uniform, not the other way around. That’s what Walker didn’t get. Up until that point, people had not been following Captain America, they had been following Steve Rogers.

Standing in that public square, she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Bucky entwined his fingers with hers. She couldn’t avert her eyes from the horrific scenery. Powerlessly, she watched a man she didn’t know being executed. His opponent was merciless, striking with determination and rage, using the only piece of memory she had left of her brother to bring terror and death. Frozen on the spot in the middle of the crowd, she could see the fear in all those strangers eyes and it felt like grief coming in waves, a shard in her guts that would never leave. It felt like this particular moment was choking the breath out of her body, short circuiting her mind. What was whole once completely shattered and she couldn’t find the strength to be angry anymore. All her brother had built had fallen apart in the split of a second and all the world had left was a bloodied image of his symbol of hope. A symbol that was no more.

“Sam...” She called him, almost like a scared child.

“I know...”

Both men looked worried. Y/N felt Bucky’s hand trembling and she squeezed him harder. She could easily guess how he felt. Steve had saved both of them, he had gave them a purpose, had allowed the former assassin to be more than the weapon Hydra had made of him. Pieces by pieces, he had brought their family back together. And as they both stood there, witnessing the horrifying end of his legacy, Bucky realized everything his bestfriend had fought for was turning into dust.

"I’m sorry" Y/N whispered to Sam. "But there’s no other way now"

Her husband dropped his head, trying to regain a sense of control over his emotions. Wordlessly agreeing with her, he turned to their friend.

“He has to be stopped”

Tags: @taina-eny

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #bucky x sarah #Sarah Wilson

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Note

maybe Y/N Stark is a new avenger, Peter see her before in a college party where they had very great sex. When she is introduced to everone. Wanda reading her thoughts finds out what happened between them. and CAOS. I love you xx

Okay see I love this because it plays into my favorite headcannon that (y/n) Stark is just a big party girl. My favorite trope is just like mean x soft, love someone who is just soft for their baby and that is so my favorite way to potray (y/n) Stark, like she’s just kind of brat expect for with Peter. Anyway I’m saying a big fat yes, and here she is. Hope you like it babe! Love you xx

Guys I am still doing requests and promts so please feel free to send some in, or even just hit me up, would love to be your bestie 💖

Awkward

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Summary: The first post hookup meetup is always a little awkward

Prompts

Masterlist

(y/n)’s pov

New York city has to be the most magical place in the world, the lights are brighter, the buildings are taller, and the parties are way more awesome than the little boarding school dorm parties I’m used to. As a Stark it’s really just my social obligation to throw the best parties in the city though, and that’s a lot of pressure. I knew my New York debut would have to be awesome, so I rented out the 404 NYC and filled it to the brim with the best food and liquor money could buy, the most killer DJ I could find, and sent out an invitation to every socialite in the city.

Then I invited Peter Parker, a boy I’ve only ever met in passing really, but he was important to my dad. Dad always used to tell me he thought we’d really get along, but we never really got the chance to know each other before dad passed away. Now that I’m in New York I want to try to be friends, he’s also the only avenger my age so if I want to carry on my dad’s legacy I think he’ll be a good teammate to have. From what I remember he was just a dorky, quiet kid, he’d hardly said two words to me the handful of times we had met. So you can only imagine my surprise when he walked in and the dorky little boy next door had become possibly the hottest boy in all of NYC.

“Hey Peter,” I giggled as I waved to him, “I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah, of course, I was a little surprised you invited me though…” he rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile.

“Oh yeah, I just figured a friend of daddy’s is a friend of mine,” I stopped one of the waiters walking by and passed Peter a drink, “Here, have this, it’s crazy good.”

He takes a little sip and nods, “Good. I’m glad you did, I was wondering if you were still gonna go to college out here after everything that happened.”

“Of course! I love New York,” I wink before taking a big swig of my own drink, “Plus I kind of wanted to give the whole Avengers thing a shot.”

“I heard, Fury said you’ve been talking about helping out.”

I nod, “Yeah, I don’t know if I really want to be a superhero per say, but it’s my dad’s legacy and I want to help out in some way.”

“Cool,” he blushed as he glanced down at his drink, “Sorry, parties aren’t really my thing still, I actually kind of just came to see how you were.”

“Aw,” I coo, “That’s so cute, I thought you would be, you seem more confident, you actually look me in the eyes now, mostly.”

He looked back up at me with a smile, “More confident sure, but I still don’t really go to parties.”

“Well you’re like an honorary Stark aren’t you?”

His whole face flushed red at that, “I don’t know about that.”

“Nah, you totally are, which means you’ve got to party like one,” I push the drink to his lips, “Chug that and we’ll get you another, then I’ll teach you how to dance,” I wink, downing my own drink to demonstrate.

He takes a deep breath and down the whole cup in one drink.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is how unusually warm it is, then it’s the arm around my waist. I roll over groggily and rub my eyes, giving myself just a few moments to take everything in. The first thing I spot is Peter, laying in bed besides me, naked. After checking him out for a second, what happened last night comes crashing back to my mind. I feel my face start to burn, don’t get me wrong, he was great in bed, but I just know I totally corrupted him. Oops.

It’s a little hard to feel bad when the sex was that good.

Peter’s eyes flutter open, looking over me sleepily before going wide eyed, “H-Hi,” he stutters.

“Hey,” I smile back, “You’re like a little space heater you know?”

“Uh, thanks,” he sits up very suddenly, looking a little frantic as he grabs his phone, “I-I’m sorry I really have to go, I h-have plans.”

I frown, watching him scramble back into his clothes, “No problem, I’m sure I’ll see you around?”

He nods, not meeting my eyes as he pulls his shirt on, “Y-Yeah, see you!” he’s out the door fast enough to give me whiplash.

Did I just get smashed and dashed by Peter Parker?

I feel awkward about what happened with Peter, I mean I had a good time but the more I think about it it just seemed like something was off that morning. I want to apologize or something, but I don’t have his number or anything. I was hoping he’d be at the Avengers tower while I’m in today, but no such luck. I feel really bad, I had a lot of fun with him, I really did want to be friends. He just really doesn’t seem like the type to hit it and quit it so I really feel like I did something wrong…

“Oh hey kid,” Bucky breaks my train of thought and draws my attention away from the papers I was looking over, “What are you up to?” “Looking over some of my dad's old suit plans,” I hum, “What about you?”

“After mission snack,” he smiles as he opens the fridge, “Peter and Wanda were right behind me.”

My eyes widen and I look right to the door, waiting for them to enter and debating what I should do. I guess just ask him to talk?

He meets my eyes as soon as he enters the room, his cheeks flush instantly and he clears his throat, “Oh, hey (y/n).”

“Hey,” I smile back.

Screw that fucking Spiderman suit, he should go to jail for looking like that.

“Hi (y/n)” Wanda smiles as she walks in behind him, “How are you?”

“Good, you?”

“Starving,” she rubs her stomach with a smile, “I need a snack,” she heads right for the kitchen while Peter just stands a few feet away from me. “How was your mission?” I ask.

“Good, nothing special really,” he crosses his arms over his chest, “How have you been?”

“Good.”

How do I bring this up? I mean normally if I hook up with someone I don’t care that much about talking to them after, but I really liked hanging out with Peter at the actual party too. He’s awesome in bed, let’s not pretend he isn’t, but he’s funny too, and wicked smart. Plus he’s a lot nicer than most guys, I don’t know, I just really got along with him. I really hope I didn’t ruin things between us.

“Well I’m just gonna grab a snack too,” Peter pushes his hand through his hair, a light pink color dusting his cheeks and nose, “I’m pretty tired…”

“I bet, you should get some rest,” I cross my legs and turn back to the notes, only to spot Wanda staring at us, “What?”

She smirks, “Nothing, nothing.”

I frown, “Okay, not nothing, what is it?” “You two are just having some interesting thoughts,” she snickers.

Both Peter and I flush red while Bucky cocks his head in confusion, “What are they thinking about?”

She gets ready to speak but I’m quick to interject, “Nothing.”

“The kids were just having a little fun,” she smirks, “Come on Bucky, I think they need a little alone time.”

He went wide eyed, “You two better not try anything in here.”

“Jesus Christ we won’t!” I snap, “You two are gross!”

“Oh I’m gross?” Wanda raises a brow, “I know exactly what’s going on in that little head of yours,” she glances towards Peter, “She’s into the suit Peter.”

“Hey!” I glare at her while he blushes, “Don’t kink shame me.”

“I’m gonna go throw up,” Bucky snatches up his food on his way out. “You better leave to,” I threaten Wanda, pointing my pen at her as threateningly as I can.

She starts laughing, “Yeah I’m getting out of here before you two start getting heated,” she winks to me as she saunters out of the room, “Wrap it up this time!”

“Hey!” I snap, my cheeks flushing once more, “I have an IUD,” I try to assure Peter, who seems to be malfunctioning, “Uh, you good?”

His mouth hangs open for a minute before he speaks, “I’m really sorry about them.”

I shrug, “It’s fine. I really did want to talk to you alone though, I’m really sorry about the party.”

He knits his brow, “Why are you sorry? I had fun at the party.”

“It seemed like you regretted it,” I bite the inside of my cheek nervously.

He purses his lips and shakes his head, “I don’t regret it. I shouldn’t have left like I did though, I promise I’m not normally like that.”

“Oh,” I don’t really know what to say, “So you really just had to go?”

He averts his eyes before shaking his head, “I kinda panicked?”

“Panicked?” I chuckle, some of my nerves starting to ease out, “Why?”

“I just haven’t really done that before…” he blushed.

My jaw falls open, “Oh my God Peter I am so sorry, I had no idea. I should have asked if I was your first th-”

“No, no! Not like that, I’ve slept with people before,” he shakes his head, “It’s just always been with long term girlfriends. I just didn’t really know what to do when we got up and I panicked.”

I can’t help the small laugh that escapes from my lips, “That’s really cute Peter, and I mean what you did was fine, I was just a little disappointed I guess. I mean I had a lot of fun just hanging out too so I was kind of hoping we could have kept hanging out, but if you just wanted a one night stand that’s fine too.”

“W-Well I wanted to keep hanging out too, I guess I should have just asked,” he laughs lightly at himself, “Sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by taking me on a date sometime,” I shrug, “You know, just if you still wanted to hang out sometime.”

He goes wide eyed before clearing his throat, “Oh, um, yeah, I should do that. Do you, uh, have plans tonight?”

I shake my head, “Nope.”

“Cool, uh, would you want to go to the movies then?”

I nod eagerly, “I would love to.”

“O-Okay!” he grins ear to ear, “I’m gonna go shower though, and change! I’ll be back in ten?”

“I’ll be right here,” I smile back, “Can’t wait.”

“Me either,” he begins walking away but spins suddenly loudly declaring, “Oh!” before he spins back around. He presses a quick peck to my lips and bites his lips, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I blush, my stomach filling with anxious butterflies, “I’ll be waiting.”

685 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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rrazor · 3 years

Note

what is your skincare routine 🥺 plus imagine doing face masks with ur hq boy 😩😩 pleeaaaaaaseeee manifest

my routine is just a bunch of serums + moisturizer topped off with an obsession with cosrx :^)

here’s some of my personal h/c’s about their routine and how u fit in 💖

kuroo overexfoliated when he was 16 and that’s when he decided to get into skincare 🤡 but you’re really the one who ties it all together and finishes it 😤 has a bunch of blackheads and is hesitant about using acids but trusts you when you rec a bha (salicylic) and to his surprise it works!! you teach other about ingredients and formulations (more teaching on your end since he’s such an overachiever and is in a million different things) but his skin really goes 🌺🌺 when he’s got a routine down.

another amazing boyfriend to do self-care days with because he needs them so much 😭💞 spends the whole day by your side at home doing whatever whenever and holding your hand the whole way through 💖 does the spoon in the fridge technique to depuff his eyes after a late night and always sends u morning selfies with them on his face all “Good morning my Fated One 🥄👄🥄” 💀💀💀

bokuto already has a skincare routine kudos of his sisters when you start dating and only gets back into doing it regularly when he learns you like doing it too 💕 he wants to spend more time with you as if he isn’t already glued to your hip 😭🤚💗💗

but he slaps his face really hard like really hard 😵 you have to teach him to gently dab and work the product into the skin but he sits like a good boy on the edge of the tub and closes his eyes for you 💛💛 keeps his hands on your hips too ☺️ gets acne here and there and sticks on the pimple patches you give him while telling you “y'know, babe, since you gave these to me, it’s like ur kissing me all night long!!! 🥺🥰😚💕” kiss him now pls

akaashi looks like he has his life together but his skincare routine is 😬 uses bar soap and the same anti-aging face lotion as his mom but his skin is 🌹🌸🌺✨he’s skeptical when he tries out new products but he comes around pretty quickly when he notices how less fatigued he looks 💀

he loves doing masks with you and likes to do one in the morning and one at night because you’ve got him hooked now 😤 he’s so dewy oh my god man is literally gleaming like a diamond 💎✨what have u done….. i bet he has a gua sha and rolls your face for you too 🥺 he’s so gentle omg stop…. looks at u with the softest look in his eyes when you giggle at how funny the sheet masks make the two of you look 💞❤️💕💓💝

oikawa while it’s universally thought in fanon that oikawa is a skincare junkie, i’d say that he’s more so really picky and meticulous. he has specific steps he follows to the t and knows how and when to bring in a new product for any seasonal weather and other changes in his skin. he’s not necessarily going to try your products unless he’s convinced they’ll work for him (everyone’s different after all), but he’s definitely open to you trying his and sharing what you both know 😤💗💗

easily one of the best boyfriends to have self care days with: nails, hair, face, online shopping, you name it, he’ll do it with you 🥰💄💅 i think he hates hyaluronic acid and avoids it like the plague lmfao one of his favourite ways to pass the evenings is the two of you together gossiping with your masks on and eating snacks 🌹🥰🥰🌹

iwaizumi lmfao this mf’er is sooo handsome 🥵 so i say oily skin that’s prone to breakouts 😇 yeah i think iwa struggles with acne and his scars, but he gets lucky that he grows out it by third/fourth year university 😘 uses a basic cleanser marketed towards acne 🤢🤢 and some moisturizer🧴he doesn’t trust oikawa with skincare recommendations because one of the product he gave him had glycolic acid in it and iwa’s skin said 👹

he’s reluctant but lets you help him with his skin and it makes a notable improvement throughout your relationship 👍✨gets heart palpitations when you grab his face and kiss him all over 💘💘 and genuinely thinks you’re one of the best thing to have happened to him when you coo “so handsome hajime 💕” yeah i just think he’s a sucker for you saying his first name lmao

matsukawa he has pretty decent skin, maybe a bit oily and will get spots here and there but overall puberty said nah this one’s cool 😎👍 so he comes in with very basic knowledge about skincare. though bless his heart, he tries out a bunch of stuff with you and is always open to doing masks and trying out new products with you 🥺💖

his skin is pretty resilient so watch him go 😨🤭 when you breakout and he doesn’t jgjebnfkwzl he kisses ur acne scars and spots tho so dw he madly in love ok? 😘🥰❤️ once he starts seeing the changes, he keeps up with the routine you made together for him but he likes to beg for you to do it for him “aw, c’mon babe don’t u want your hands all over this? 😩🤚💕💓💦” i hate him

hanamaki he has a mini routine and knows the general steps from his older sister and because i firmly believe he has dry, sensitive skin. he avoids fragrances, alcohols and all the sulphates and parabens but weirdly his skin is okay with silicones. anyways, he’s the one that introduces you to these amazing korean face masks and now you’re both hooked, spending weekends and days off at his house walking around with ur masks on all 💓👽👽💓

a little bit harder to work with in terms of exploration with your products but he finds his cheeks pinking 💖 and heart beating a little harder 🥰 when you go out of your way to find products that fit his criteria and gets rlly sappy when you start using them too 😭💓💕 he buys the bigger bottles for himself and small bottles for u because he’s whipped (and funny) that way 😐💖

kita looks like he and his grandma would some diy face masks together 🥰❤️ he’s got a basic cleanser and moisturizer but doesn’t do much else. spends a lot of time learning about the products and right steps so he can be a useful partner when you go shopping together 🥺💘💞

he comes to love oils, especially squalane and rosehip seed oil. also becomes a vitamin c junkie 😤 he’s a stickler for patch-testing and comes to really enjoy the whole skincare process in the morning and evenings as his own me time. really appreciates and thanks you for sharing this part of your daily life with him 🥺💘💞💞💖 invites you over to do masks with his grandma 😘

atsumu yeah he gets his beautiful skin from his mom and literally everything else because his mom is 🌸✨in both personality and looks. exfoliates three to four times a week and still looks amazing so you really have to wonder what his skin is doing and what yours isn’t 😔

when he finds the products that work™️ for him (kudos to you), he genuinely cannot stop admiring the shine of his skin after someone points it out he’s all 👁👃👁✨ and calls you up “babe ‘m beautiful did’ja know look at me look” 😐 likes to do skincare routines together but rushes through his so that he can do other stuff with you 😭💗💖💕 hates it when you push him away and don’t let him kiss you while your products are settling 🥺☹️💔

osamu my guy here is also blessed with naturally occurring bacteria that gives him beautiful skin like life rlly isn’t fair 😟😟 he doesn’t know much but lets you do whatever and loves loves loves it when you put all the products on him 🥺❤️ sits down between your legs all 💗🐶💗 prefers mud masks over sheet ones and likes to smear yours on for u 🥰

he comes to love skincare, not as much as you but enjoys how his face feels after he’s all moisturized and such. though he never remembers sunscreen so please carry some with you 😭 he buys you snacks and sneaks kisses while u wait for your products to settle on ur face 💖💖 uses a jade roller in the mornings as he checks his phone because it feels nice 👍✨✨

suna sensitive skin but relatively normal in terms of oiliness. ik he steals his younger sister’s products if they’re close in age 💀 he has very little idea how to get started so when he jumps in and tries one of yours he breaks out really bad and curses you lmfaoooo 👿👿👹🤡

ok but once he gets a decent routine in, he does his best to keep up with it and it helps!! his skin feels less tight and more supple so he might love you a little more for that 🙄🤚💖 he prefers sheet masks and lets you clip his curtain bangs to the side✨ also looks like the kinda guy who likes to sit on the balcony/patio with his mask on and soak up the sun in the mornings after you both have your sunscreen on 🌼🌼

ushijima his skin is dehydrated but he doesn’t know it, has accepted the oiliness of his skin as a symptom of his athletics 😔 he’s got a bunch of expensive luxury products given to him by his mom and she’s told him to use them but he doesn’t know what the right order is so he puts on an occlusive first before anything else 😭😭😭

genuinely appreciates you so much when you take the time to teach him about everything and even asks if you could give him some notes so that he can refer to them when you’re not by his side 🥺💗💕💖 joins you in your product endeavours and gives you succinct but helpful feedback on what he likes and doesn’t like 😤 likes to hold you while u do masks together 🌼 and rests his head on urs 😭🌸💕

tendou uses whatever he’s got at home and what his mom gets him 🤷‍♀️ spots here and there but otherwise pretty clear skin. he’s open to trying anything and everything with you because he’s just really happy to spend time with you 🥰💞💞

sits really close to you and let’s you have free reign of his face when you sleep over at his place!! he giggles a lot because it tickles but never asks you to stop 🥺💜 thanks you for helping him and making him look so pretty 🌷✨looks like he’d be allergic to propolis/honey-based ingredients...

semi handsome man…. another one that looks dehydrated to me but he’s trying just please help him 😭🤚 he’s too nervous to go skincare shopping on his own because of the sheer amount of selection available 😢 tags along with you like a little puppy when you go with him 🐶💘

i feel like he has closed comedones 🤔 he tries out your retinol and keeps up with it when you told him some people got rid of theirs using it and…… it worked 😳🌟✨ thinks you’re a skincare goddess now lmfao 😤👊 when girls in university ask him about his skin, he just calls you and puts you on speaker because “my baby worked rlly hard so she should get all the credit” 😭💖💖

sakusa i think rosacea but also wealthy parents who had access to numerous dermatologists who nipped it in the bud as soon as they saw it 🤑 anyways he’s got near perfect skin lol goes through periods of dryness and keeps a strict regimen of products 👌🌟 swears by aloe vera and keeps some with him at all times 💗

though i do think you gently push him to introduce serums and essences into his routine (which is basic, but covers all his bases). you let him experiment and he finds one from cosrx that he considers a holy grail 😳 he likes doing ur skincare routine for you and you sit on the toilet seat and grin up at him 🥰 he blushes but doesn’t look away and might or might not admit he loves to be in such close contact with you 💘💘

hoshiumi kinda brutal with the way he goes about it; it looks like he’s beating the product in 💀👊👊 uses bar soap on both his face and body and wonders why his skin is dry and tight after showers “what? doesn’t that mean you didn’t clean all the gross oil off?” 😶😐😑 u gotta start from scratch with this guy 🤐

he pays attention to you but also doesn’t and finds it a bit of a hassle to go through five different products so he settles for a really basic routine 🥱 has one really fancy bottle of serum he takes with him to games and such and goes “my girlfriend gave it to me what don’t you have something like this 🤔” before putting it on if anyone asks 💀🤚💗 a full on chad 💪

hirugami he definitely has a skincare routine…. handsome 🤤 though i think he dislikes the feeling of sheet masks on his face; they feel too goopy and he doesn’t like how slimey they are. he prefers just using a short list of serums to keep his skin healthy and plump 💖✨likes hypoallergenic and fragrance-free products 👌

had acne back in middle school and a bit in first year. feel like he goes through a flare up in third year 😇🙃 anyways he likes standing next to u in the washroom doing ur routines side by side 🥰 wears those fluffy animal ear headbands with you and puts on your lip balm for you 💓💓 his dog came up and licked u across the face one time 😭 he almost choked with how hard he was laughing at u 😔 but he helped u redo it 😭💝

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httpswwwtbhkcom · 3 years

Text

Again?

[Oneshot/Imagine]

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Summary: Bakugo was once again, turned into a half wolf. Mina, knowing who was the right person to babysit him, asked you. Well.. She didn’t really ask, just pushed Bakugo into your dorm room and left. But hey, you didn’t mind.

Warnings: Swearing, grammar errors, flirting, pining, pet names, teasing, confessing, kissy kissy part,

Genre: Fluff, Wolf Bakugo,

Keys:

Y/n- your name, f/f- favorite food,

A/n: This is part 2 of “Stop making it difficult for the both of us!”.

I was bored so I thought that I should make a part 2. I had nothing to do rn. I suggest on reading part 1 first before reading this.

Your Quirk is Permeation in this fanfic! BUT your clothes doesn’t fall off your body. (This isn’t really mentioned on this part tho, I just wanted to add this here.)

Oh and if there is a collar that acts like a necklace when you put it on a pet or something, it’s kinda like that?

Reader: Neutral

Click here to see the other part(s) - Part 1 - Part 2 (Here)

Made by: ??? (Please tell me who owns the art so I could credit them!)

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It was the next Saturday after the ‘Wolf Bakugo’ incident had happened. You missed putting Bakugo on a leash like last time, but you knew that he wouldn’t let you do that again.

You were at the lobby with some of your classmates. The others chilling while the remaining were outside going somewhere. Either to go shopping or train.

You giggled as you reminisced that moment. Wishing that the event would happen once again, though you knew Bakugo wouldn’t like it.

“What are you laughing at?” Mina asked, looking at you with confusion. “Nothing.” You smiled. Mina lied on your lap and hummed. “I bet it’s about someone.” She grinned.

“Of course it was.” You answered, having a light blush on your face. “Your face is telling me it’s not only someone.” Mina said, her tone teasing. “It’s a special someone. A crush maybe?” Your eyes widened. “Whaa- Nooo- Psh. Why would I think of my crush?”

“You do have a crush!” She exclaimed, sitting up. You and Mina earned confused glances from your friends and you looked down in embarrassment. “Ah, sorry. Nothing to see here!” Mina waved, telling them to mind their business. Once their lingering glances were gone, Mina went back to you and gave you a wide smile.

“So you do have a crush!” She whispered to you. “Whaat? Of course not! I thought you said friend. Friend!” You lied. “You can’t fool me. I’m practically a love doctor. I can help you get together with your quote unquote ‘friend’.” She said, puffing out her chest.

“He’s just a friend Mina!”

She gasped. “It’s a boy?!” This time, no one bothered to look. Knowing that they wouldn’t get any answers. You covered your blushing face with your hands. ‘I said too much...’ You murmured. “Oh my gosh this is great! So, who is it? Midoriya? Todoroki?” She asked, excited. Then she gasped. “...Or is it Bakugo?” She gave you a teasing grin.

You took a peek between your fingers and saw Mina practically fangirling.

Before you could say anything, you heard the door slam open. You and the others jumped at the loud noise.

“Bakugo, calm down. Your affected with the quirk again, no big deal.” Kirishima assured the angry blond. “No big deal? NO BIG DEAL!? THAT FUCKER USED IT’S QUIRK ON ME AND THAT’S NO BIG DEAL?!” Bakugo shouted at his friend, clearly pissed.

You stared at them and noticed that Bakugo has wolf ears and a tail. Kirishima seemed to notice you and whispered something to Bakugo. Bakugo’s eyes snapped from Kirishima to you. His eyes widened then looked away.

Tsuyu was curious and asked “Why does Bakugo look like that? Kero.”

“It’s none of your business-”

“Someone used their quirk on Bakugo and he’s mad. It’s probably the same person who made Bakugo look like this last week.” Kirishima answered much to Bakugo’s dismay.

Bakugo noticed everyone staring at him, watching his movements. “What are you lookin’ at huh?” He gritted his teeth.

Kirishima patted his shoulder. Mina came smiling “Hey, how about we let Y/n babysit-” “Accompany.” Bakugo corrected. “-Right.. ‘Accompany’ Bakugo?” She suggested. “Good for me. I’m tired training today and I don’t want to deal with anything right now.” Kirishima yawned.

“Any complaints, Bakugo?”

Before Bakugo could speak, Mina had cut him off. “No? Great! Let’s go to Y/n- Huh?”

They looked at where you were only to see that no one was there. “Where’s Y/n?” He asked. “I swear Y/n was there.. I was with them earlier. They’re probably in their dorm right now.”

(When Mina went towards Kirishima and Bakugo, You immediately left. For... Some reason.)

“Right! I’ll go eat, I’m starving. You both wouldn’t mind right?”

“It’s fine, let’s go.” Mina, and Bakugo left Kirishima as they went to your floor and knocked on your door. “Hey! It’s me. Can you do me a favor, Y/n?” Mina called. You opened the door, to see both Mina and Bakugo right in front of you. “Let me guess. Babysit?”

“It’s not-”

“Yep. Please?”

You didn’t have time to answer because Mina shoved Bakugo to you and left. “Thanks Y/n! I owe you one!” She shouted before disappearing.

You both watched at the hallway then at each other. You and Bakugo noticed how close both your faces were. Your face became red and you looked away, flustered. “Sorry...” You murmured.

“It’s fine...” He grumbled. “Can I come in?”

You moved to the side as he entered your room. ‘It’s been a while ever since I came here..’ He said to himself, seeing that nothing had changed ever since he left. You sat on your bed as you stared at Bakugo checking out your room. “What?” He asked, slightly annoyed.

“Nothing. It’s nothing..” You mumbled an apology to him, embarrassed. Once he was done checking, he just stared at you. You patted the space beside you, offering him to sit. When he didn’t respond, you asked “Are you just going to stand there or what?”

He scoffed, grumbling something under his breath before sitting next to you.

Silence took over a second later, tension increasing. Until Bakugo spoke.

“Y’know I could just take care of myself right? I don’t need someone to ‘babysit’ me.”

“I know.” He looked at you questioningly. “I just want someone to hang out with. With you maybe?”

His crimson eyes slightly widened, taken aback. “With me?” You nodded. “Maybe we should go to the same food place we ate at last time.” He chuckled. “Is this your way on trying to take me out on a date?” His voice was teasing yet curious.

Your face flushed red. “E-eh? I- I was just trying to-”. He laughed at your expression at teased you a bit more. “Really hm?” His face coming closer to yours. “You sure, Love?” Your heart pace increased at the pet name. You averted your eyes to somewhere else.

You felt a hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look at Bakugo. “Don’t look away when I’m talkin’ to ya, Doll. Didn’t your parents teach you manners?” He said sternly yet teasingly. He came closer to your face that both of your lips were touching. He took a quick glance at your lips then froze.

He backed away. “Sorry, I got carried away.” Bakugo murmured. “Don’t sweat it.” You said, taking this as your chance to tease him back when you saw something that had caught your interest. “You were having fun aren’t you?” You stifled a giggle, as you pointed to Bakugo’s tail, that was wagging harshly.

Bakugo looked back and blushed. He was enjoying this but he wouldn’t tell that to your face. He hid his tail behind his back and tried to make it stop wagging but failed. ‘Shit.’ He mumbled. You couldn’t hold it back no more as you laughed at his attempts.

“That’s.... That’s so cute!” You said between giggles. Bakugo’s face became more red as he continued to grumble curses to himself. He is enjoying this. Bakugo wasn’t this close to you like before.

After a while, your laughter had finally died down. “Ah... That was funny.. Sorry.” You said as you wiped a tear. “Can we just go eat already? I’m starvin’.” Bakugo tried to change the subject, a bit too embarrassed. “Alright, Let’s go change. Now go to your dorm and go change. We’ll meet at the lobby, yea?” You told him as you pushed him out of your dorm.

“Ey! Don’ push me!” Bakugo shouted. You gave him a small grin then closed the door on him. You heard a loud ‘OI!’ from the other side, making you giggle once more.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

As you waited for Bakugo at the lobby, you were talking with Mina. “Hey Y/n, Where’s Bakugo? Isn’t he supposed to be with you?” She asked. “Well, Yeah. I’m just waiting for him to finish changing his clothes to go eat outside. Wanna join us?”

“Nah, Don’t wanna ruin the moment you both have.” She teased with a grin. You playfully punched her shoulder and you lightly blushed. You and Mina were interrupted when a shadow loomed over you two. “Oh hey Bakugo, Heard you and Y/n are going to eat somewhere huh?”

Bakugo let out a growl at Mina but she seemed unfazed. She laughed then waved her hand. “Don’t worry I won’t ruin it. I’m already busy. Have fun you two!” She said before she left you and Bakugo alone.

“You told her?”

“Yeah..” You answered sheepishly. Then you noticed. “Hey, why didn’t you change your clothes?” “I couldn’t change because of this shitty tail. The other clothes were uncomfortable to be in.” He answered. You nodded, then remembering something. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” Then you sprinted back to the dorms, telling him to wait for you while you take something from your dorm.

“Tch.” He crossed his arms. “Great.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You came back after a few minutes, you had a bit of difficulty of finding it since you had forgotten where you hid it. “Bakugo! I’m here. Sorry!” You halted once you were in front of him and panted. “Took ya long enough. It’s already gettin’ late.”

He gently took your wrist and began to drag you. “Let’s go. I’m starvin’.”

As you both were walking under the night sky, you- out of the blue- asked him. “Hey, Can I do something after we eat food?” Bakugo stopped walking and turned to look at you in confusion.

“Hah?”

“Can I do something after we eat?”

“Like what?”

“Like uhm...” You looked down, trying to look innocent. “Just do me a favor alright?” You blushed, finding this moment embarrassing. Bakugo rose a brow, yet lightly blushed. He didn’t respond but instead continued to drag you to the familiar restaurant.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

As you and Bakugo sat at a table that was available. You wanted to sit at the table you both sat last time but it was already occupied to your dismay. And ordered the food you both wanted to eat. Bakugo wanting to eat something not spicy this time and you wanting f/f.

As you both were waiting for the meals to arrive, you and Bakugo started to talk about Pro Heroes and such. You were surprised that Bakugo has some of the same interests as you.

In the middle of the conversation, the waiter went to the table and interrupted the talk you and Bakugo had, with an apologetic look.

“Excuse me, your meals are ready. ______ and F/f.” They said as they placed the food in front of you. Bakugo glared and snarled at the waiter, causing them to flinch in fear. You gave them a small ‘thank you’ and gave them an apologetic look for Bakugo’s behavior.

“Sorry about my friend here. He’s just in a bad mood..” You apologized. The waiter nodded then walked away in a slightly fast pace.

You began to softly scold Bakugo. But he wasn’t listening, his head repeating the word ‘friend’ with your voice. He didn’t know why but he felt his heart ache at the word friend. Was he just a friend to you?

He shook his head to shake the negative thoughts away. You were asking him if he’s alright, but received no response.

Bakugo told himself that he’ll do anything to change the relationship you both have. Maybe even changing friend to something else. Something more... Suiting. He couldn’t just give up by that. He has a chance to swoon you.

He was cut of his trance when he saw you trying to get his attention. “Huh?” He muttered. “Ah there you are! I thought I lost you for a second.” You said in relief.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

After eating, you and Bakugo were at the park walking side by side. Neither of you thought of the idea of walking in the park late at night, but here you are.

You suddenly remembered the leash and collar you have hiding somewhere on your back, under your clothes. You swiftly and quietly tried to take it off you and hide it on your back, you facing Bakugo. Bakugo glanced at you and noticed something sticking out your back.

He tried to take a closer look without you knowing and noticed it was actually a leash. He gave a small smirk. Were you really going to leash him again? Not on his watch.

“Hey Bakugo..” You muttered. Bakugo perked up at his name. “Mm?”

You didn’t answer for a while. Only stepping closer to Bakugo. You look down like you were flustered in saying something. Deep down, you were both scared yet excited to use the almost same tactic to him. But you didn’t know that he knows what your planning.

“What is it?” He played along, slightly tilting his head.

“Uhm... Y-you see..” You stuttered, now starting to regret it. Bakugo smirked but kept in character. “Hm? What do you want to tell me? I don’t got all day.”

You looked up at him, your face really red. “I- I really like you, Bakugo.. I didn’t know that I would catch these feelings for you but.... I guess I did.” You averted your eyes to somewhere else. You were telling the truth. Wanting to say more to catch him off guard.

But you were shocked when Bakugo lowly chuckled and made you look at him. You couldn’t tell if he was flustered or not due to the darkness. But you could see his face a bit red.

“Really? Huh.”

You stepped back when he stepped forward. You both did that until you felt something hit your back. He pinned you to the tree as he slowly inched towards you. You both not breaking eye contact.

You tensed as you felt his warm breath hit your neck. Goosebumps rising. You held the leash tighter as you still hid it behind your back.

“Bakugo..?” You said taken aback.

“Yes Y/n?” He said in a low, charming tone.

You gulped. Very flustered.

“Y/n?”

“Y-yes?” You answered after a while.

“You’re lucky.”

You rose a brow in confusion, your face turning back to it’s normal color. Then blushing again when you felt his lips brushing yours.

“I like you too.” He admitted before kissing you passionately. Your breath hitched in surprise, loosing grip of the leash and collar behind you. Bakugo pulled away, giving you short time to breath for air then kissing you again.

This time, you finally kissed back. Your hands letting go of the leash and collar and your arms wrapping around Bakugo’s neck. Bakugo quickly grabbed the leash and collar before it fell on the grass and wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you closer.

Bakugo’s hands going from your waist to your neck.

Before anything else had escalated, you heard a click. You stopped as you began to get confused. Bakugo pulled away and smirked as he waved the leash in front of you. You gasped in betrayal and surprise as you now noticed that you were wearing the collar.

You were flustered as you blamed yourself for forgetting the plan. “Damnit.” You cursed. Bakugo’s smirk grew as he kept eye contact with you. His ego growing.

“You can’t trick me, Y/n.”

“You sure? I did last w-” You were cut off by Bakugo giving you a peck on the lips.

“Mm... Don’t remember that darlin’.” He smiled.

After a few seconds, Bakugo asked, his tone slightly confused and anxious. “Do you really like me? Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You nodded, scratching your neck. “Every word.”

“And you really confessed to me just to make me wear the collar again?”

You nodded sheepishly. Now that you think about it. It was a stupid idea. Bakugo chuckled and helped you take off the collar. You rose a brow as he does so. He looked at you and softly glared.

“What? Do me want to walk you to the dorms with a collar around your neck? I’m not that mean Y/n.” You giggled at his words. “Sorry ‘bout planning on making you wear that leash again. I thought you’d be a handful again.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Psh, since when was I a handful?”

“Well-”

“Don’t answer that.” You grinned. Bakugo smiled back at you. You both slowly walked towards the dormitory. “So...”

“Wanna go out sometime?”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: I didn’t know what to write on that park scene. I mean like, I already planned on the scene to happen but that was on simple style! Making it a bit better and slightly detailed was a challenge. Hope you guys like this!

I know, I know, I haven’t posted a fanfic in like what? Almost a month? (oof sorry) I was having problems with the internet but I think it’s alright now. and I hope that it wouldn’t happen again.

#katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha imagine #bnha oneshot #mha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha imagine #mha oneshot #katsuki #bakugo #bakugo x reader #x reader

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luv-eddiediaz · 3 years

Text

Hi. Me again, with my obsession of cowboy Eddie and city Buck.

I was driving around the country last night looking for some cool rocks to put in my yard (I live in town, but like 20 minutes from all the ranches and wide open spaces), and I had like a Buddie version of a Hallmark movie playing in my head the whole time.

Imagine with me:

Buck has been living in NYC. He’s been working at some art gallery and dating Abby and living with her in her fancy loft while she sculpts, but something happens and she still needs to go find herself, so off she goes to abandon our boy, who, after a couple of months, and some conversations with his friends, realizes she isn’t going to come back, and he sets off to start over.

He basically throws a dart at a map, and it lands on El Paso, and so that’s where he packs his bags to go. He gets a job at a local bar, and rents a room in the back. He doesn’t think El Paso is going to be for him, so he’s just going to work a few weeks until he can figure out where he wants to go and has some more money saved up to get there.

He notices that every other night, a dark haired man comes in and orders a whiskey, neat and two beers. He sits alone and doesn’t talk to anyone except the girl who works at the bar with Buck at night (I’ve named her Desiree). To Buck, he seems kind of sad.

One night, Desiree is off, and it’s Just Buck. The guy comes in and Buck brings him his whiskey without him having to order. The man tips his hat, and Buck smiles, but they don’t say anything. When he’s finished his whiskey, Buck goes back to him with his draft of Budweiser, and again he tips his hat, and Buck smiles. They don’t talk until Buck brings him last beer.

“It’s Buck, right?”

“Uh, yea, how did you know?”

“Desiree is my cousin. She’s mentioned you a few times. Doesn’t like you very much.”

Buck laughs, “I didn’t think she did.”

“It’s your shoes. They’re too shiny, and she says you smell too nice.”

“How does someone smell too nice?”

“Girls here are just different than where you come from.”

“Everyone here is different than where I come from.”

And the man laughs so quiet Buck isn’t even sure he’s laughing, and then he holds out his hand, “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you.” Buck meets his hand, and it’s softer than Buck would have thought given his dirt stained jeans, and his small drawl, and the cowboy hat he never seems to take off his head.

So, now whenever Eddie comes in, Buck waits on him, and as the customers dwindle down, Buck ends up sitting in the corner booth with him, and they talk. About New York mostly, about Abby and art, Eddie’s son, and how Buck thinks he might do better in Austin if he was going to stay in Texas.

“If you change your mind, and want to stay,” Eddie says one night, “I have a shed I converted to a guest house. I’d be more than happy to rent it out to you.”

Buck isn’t sure why, but the thought of Eddie wanting him to stay makes him feel good, and so he decides to take him up on the offer. He meets Eddie at his place one Sunday afternoon, which is this sprawling ranch, and a large, gray stucco house. Eddie shows him around the grounds.

“So, these are Greg and Elizabeth,” he says of two goats nosing at Buck’s shoes, “those are the three Rosies,” he points to three brown cows, “the chicken coop is in the back, but you’ll have to ask Christopher their names, because honestly, I don’t know. I think he keeps changing them.”

“All these animals are yours?”

“Uh, the goats and chickens, yes. One Rosie is a boarder, and the other two are ours until I find them somewhere else to go.”

“Do you like rescue animals?”

“Sort of. I’m a large animal vet.”

“How did you not tell me this?”

Eddie shrugs and smiles this little half smile Buck has come to adore, “I don’t like talking about myself. And you love talking about yourself.”

“Do not.”

“You really do.”

Then Eddie shows him the shed/house, and Buck decides he’s going to stay there. Eddie also asks if during the day Buck wants to help out answering phones and stuff in the clinic.

Hilarity would ensue with Buck in his fancy sweaters and nice shoes trying to help wrangle the goats and the cows. Sweetness comes when he’s out feeding the chickens with Christopher, and eating sandwiches with him at the reception desk of the vet clinic.

At some point, he starts wearing flannel shirts, and faded denim. Eddie even buys him his own cowboy hat the day he takes him out horseback riding.

That same day, they sit by a creek, underneath a tree while their horses graze, and have a more serious conversation. Eddie opens up about his wife’s recent death, but how they had been on the rocks for a while, and Eddie thought maybe they were going to work things out, but she said she didn’t want to and then she had an accident in town.

Buck doesn’t think he’s crazy when Eddie puts Buck’s hat back on his head and he feels this electricity as they stare at each other, close enough to smell what the other had for breakfast on their breath. He thinks maybe Eddie is going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. And it leaves him disappointed.

So, of course. with the two of them on this precipice of something, Abby comes back!

She finds out where Buck is, and goes down to Texas. It’s a Saturday night, and Buck is working at the bar, and it’s a little bit busy, but Christopher is staying the weekend with his aunt and cousins, and Eddie is down there, and between serving Buck lets Eddie try and teach him to line dance, and they shoot a round of pool that lasts forever because Buck keeps having to go work, but it doesn’t matter, because he is having the best time, and he’s seeing Eddie laugh with his whole face, and he knows, he just knows he is falling in love with this man, and only hopes he’s falling in love back.

They are literally just about to kiss in a dark corner when Buck sees Abby in the middle of the bar, and says her name. He doesn’t forget Eddie is there, but he kinds forgets Eddie is there and walks over to her, gives her a hug.

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you too.”

“Can we talk?” she asks, “are you busy?”

“I’m working, but I can take a minute; here.” He leads her to a small booth and slides in across from her.

“Look,” she starts, “I’m not sorry I left, because I had to. I was feeling suffocated.”

“By me?”

“No, well, yes, but not you. Just my life, and you happened to be a part of that. I needed to get lost to find myself again.”

“And did you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been five months, Abby. I left us. I left New York; I started over.”

“I see that. Kind of a weird choice.”

“I like it.”

Because he likes Eddie.

Shit. Eddie. Buck looks around the bar and sees that he’s gone, and he doesn’t blame him for bailing. He looks back at Abby; at the beautiful curve of her face, her bright green eyes that still pop through the lenses of her glasses. He remembers what it felt like to kiss her lips, and feel her hands through his hair. He never loved anyone the way he loved Abby - she was the first real thing in his life, but he knows now, that Abby never loved him the way he deserved.

“Buck?”

“Thank you for coming here to explain yourself.”

“I was kind of hoping I could talk you into coming to New York with me.”

“Nah, I’m good here. I’ve got all these flannel shirts now, and the concrete would just kill these boots.”

Abby laughs, “not to mention the cowboy.”

“What cowboy?”

“The one that’s been staring at us like he’s ready to pull my hair.”

Buck looks to where Abby is nodding and he wonders how the hell he missed Eddie sitting there.

“Yea, and the cowboy.”

She smiles and kisses Buck on the cheek as she gets up to leave. Buck waits a few seconds until she’s walked out the door and saunters over to Eddie with a woeful look on his face. He sits on the barstool next to him

“I’m sorry about that,” he says.

“Oh, you’re sorry for dropping me like a dirty rag as soon as you saw your ex-girlfriend? Or is she still your girlfriend?”

“No. She’s my ex. There’s uh, there’s someone else I’m kind of interested in.”

“Anyone I know? It’s a small town after all.”

“I think you may be familiar with him.”

“Him? That could be a dangerous thing here.”

“I like a little bit of danger.”

Eddie smiles, “what time do you get off?”

“About another hour.”

“Hmmm, I’ll come back and pick you up.”

Eddie tips his hat and leaves the bar, and Buck thinks the last hour of his shift drags on forever, but finally he’s cashed out and collected his tips and he goes outside to find Eddie sitting in his truck. Buck gets in, and they drive out past the town lights, past his ranch, almost right up to the border to Mexico, and park.

Buck feels like he’s in a country song as the radio hums in the background and Eddie leans over the console to touch his fingertips to Buck’s chin and pull him towards himself to give him a soft, slow kiss.

It’s the best kiss Buck has ever had, and he can’t help but smile the entire time. It’s the beginning of what Buck knows is going to be the rest of his life.

#buddie #911 fox #mj free writes #buddie fic #country eddie #east coast buck #one day i'll give it the proper treatment it deserves #long af #and i didn't cut it #omg i'm so sorry

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

AU where Deidara becomes inexplicably fond of 'Tobi' to the point of just going 'fuck it' and following Obito into crazytown and, if Obito survives The Kaguya Nonsense, he now has a bitchy art school grad student following him around like "you fucked with my head for a year after making people pressgang me into a terrorist cell, now it's my turn to fuck with you." This is partly because this one post lives in my head rent-free.

(Brainstormed on discord with help from @britishassistant. Please note that while I do usually headcanon Dei as nonbinary, this brainstorm kept to he/him pronouns and referring to him as a boy.)

Confession that this arose because I keep imagining 'person travels back to the Founders Era and wreaks havoc via Confusions, using different characters capable of 'why the FUCK' reactions every time, pinged on T7+Obito but Obito had to bring Deidara and everyone Regrets, because... boom.

Nobody wants Deidara involved, except Deidara. People especially do not want Deidara and Sai in the same room, because between Deidara's hands and Sai's 'commentary,' someone's going to get murdered. -- (Deidara is of the opinion that he should be involved in everything where there is the potential for blowing something or someone up. Deidara was sort of invited, in that Obito refuses to leave him unsupervised, but nobody really wants him, like, doing things.)

Team Seven is trying to help push a peace treaty through for the Senju and Uchiha. Keeping an eye out for Zetsu, Obito's talking Madara around as the person who actually knows him best, Naruto is Vibing with Hashirama on a level nobody hoped they'd reach, Sakura's smoothing ruffled feathers by healing the dying, Yamato is demonstrating Mokuton as evidence of something, and Kakashi has his hand over Sai's mouth so they don't cause an international incident. Sasuke isn't helping, just kind of in a stare-off with Izuna.

And then Obito says, "Wait, shit. We're missing a blonde." "Where's your idiot, Obito?" "He's not my idiot, Bakashi, he just--" BOOM "Ah, shit." [cue maniacal laughter in the middle distance]

"This is why I told you to keep an eye on him while I talked to Madara!" "I told Sasuke to do it!” "Why do you expect Sasuke to do anything you tell him to do?"

Part of what I was going for was: 1. Deidara and Obito have a preexisting relationship that angles heavily towards mutual antagonism due to the whole Tobi thing. 2. Deidara is both completely unhinged and capable of mass destruction, which means he's perfectly set to Cause Problems. And of course 3. This means a role reversal where Obito finds the shoe on the other foot because now he’s the one trying to rein in Deidara.

Obito is 100% done with Deidara, but this asshole is kind of his responsibility? Like? What's he gonna do, hand the kid over to Onoki? Nah, bruh, his douchebag teenage sidekick deserves better than Iwa. -- (Deidara does not, in fact, deserve better than Iwa.) -- It’s like Deidara is his kid or something, like he knows he’s hellspawn but he’s Obito’s hellspawn.

Madara: You came to convince us of peace, yet you bring-- Obito: No, shut up, it's better than leaving him to his own devices, at least this way I can stop him. Hashirama: How do we convince the Daimyou this is a good idea? Madara: We need to make him think there's a bigger threat, maybe? One that he can't fight without united shinobi clans to hire, rather than pitting us against one another to maintain his economic dominance. Hashirama: But there aren't any bi-- Deidara: I VOLUNTEER

Obito: So what are we going to do? Deidara: Blow up buildings belonging to the rich and powerful. Obito: And what are we not going to do? Deidara: ...blow up the innocent? Like kids? And poor people? Obito: Okay, yes. That's pretty much it. Deidara: Wait, can I blow up a monastery? Obito: Do you want the Shinigami to come after our heads?! No!!! Deidara: What if it's a Jashinist temple? Obito: We have seen evidence that one exists, do you really want to risk it?

Hashirama, full of 😀 : I brought dango! Deidara, to Obito: Are you going to eat it with your eye again. Madara, Izuna, all the Uchiha: [turn to stare] Obito: Literally why do I put up with you.

(Deidara is that one kid who Delights in telling everyone about the weird and dumb shit Obito pulled as Tobi.)

Deidara: Hey, dipshit, you wanna-- Obito:

Also, Kakashi has his four brats so Obito gets to keep Deidara. It’s only fair. -- Kakashi at least has Tenzo to coparent, and some of his kids are well-behaved... ish. They try, at least. Obito's just got a Hell Child who actively delights in causing mischief and mayhem. -- The most Naruto's going to do is dye your hair in your sleep. Sai makes dick jokes and Sakura punches things, but overall, they're not bad kids! Sasuke is. Sasuke. But that's okay, that's why there's a solid five people in that team to handle his bullshit.

Whereas Obito is stuck. With an art school grad student. -- Deidara is contextually the epitome of "I think I will cause problems on purpose." -- (Deidara... is what Tenzo would call “a bad influence.”)

Btw? Keep Sai and Deidara away from each other. Kakashi learns that the hard way. -- "Captain, the art kids are fightingggggg!"

Kakashi: Obito get a handle on your disaster Obito: DON’T YOU TALK ABOUT MY BOY THAT WAY

Jumping back a tiny bit though, Obito regularly asks Yamato to use his Mokuton to seal up Deidara's chakra for a bit. (Is this how it works in canon? Probably not, I think it's just bijuu chakra, but I also Do Not Care.)

But honestly, when it comes to Team Seven, Deidara is that one older cousin at family reunions that teaches you how to hotwire a car. -- Deidara is okay with Naruto and Sakura, ish. -- He antagonizes Sai in a way that ends in tears. -- He. Has to be kept away from Sasuke. For a variety of reasons, most of which have to do with Eyes and Explosions and Itachi.

Sasuke barely remembers who Deidara is, he’s just grumpy he couldn’t bring anyone from Taka with him.

Meanwhile Taka is just. They’re assholes? Taka bitches enough to hunt him down. They excuse it with "Juugo needs you" -- "I'm in a different dimension, eighty years in the past, how did you..." -- "Science ninja. Best sensor on the continent." -- "Also we asked Orochimaru for help." -- "Yeah, we asked Orochimaru for help."

Taka being there signals a marked improvement in Sasuke’s demeanor and cooperation, and Kakashi just resigns himself to having four more kids. -- Juugo is a godsend when he's not being set off into a homicidal rage. And he apologizes! Meanwhile, Karin and Suigetsu are The Worst.

T7+Obito and Deidara have been in the past and bullying the clans into a peace for like a week and then they just hear MASSIVE ROARING a mile away and Sasuke's like "Oh, hey, it's my idiots." -- Sasuke’s grinning for the first time in weeks. (It’s tiny and barely perceptible but it’s there.) -- I don't know that Taka could actually help at all, but they sure can cause more problems. Unlike Deidara, most of them are not intentional.

Suigetsu: Hey, Sasuke, so I know that Deidara guy tried to kill you... Sasuke: He did? Suigetsu: --but would you be mad if I tried to hook up with him? Sasuke: I don't care, knock yourself out.

(Suigetsu is the kind of man that wears tearaway pants just to reveal rainbow leggings that say "I'M GAY" on them. If Suigetsu and Sasuke didn't have at least one 'no homo' make-out session... well, I wouldn't put money on it either way, but I do think it's a valid reading of the text.)

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

Deidara: What's it like when Obito actually decides to be serious? Kakashi: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh Obito, previously:

Kakashi: Trauma. It's trauma.

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hood-ex · 3 years

Text

Dick stares at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom for what feels like forever before the alarm on his phone starts going off. The Backstreet Boys song that Babs had set as his default alarm fills the room with a chorus of, “Everybody! Rock your body right! Backstreet's back alright!”

He normally tries to shut the obnoxious song up as soon as it goes off, but, well, there isn’t really anything normal about Dick’s current situation, and he figures that letting the song play out for a little longer than usual might curb his feelings of homesickness.

It fades into background noise as he flings off the covers and rolls out of bed, wincing as his bare feet meet the chilled wood floor. He blindly turns in the direction of the Alexa device and—wait. It’s called Cora in this universe, not Alexa.

Right.

“Cora, turn on Dick’s bedroom lights,” he says to the small white device that’s sitting on the bedside table. Cora glows green to indicate that she heard the demand, and the lights flicker on immediately.

Dick squints at the sudden brightness and stumbles his way into the bathroom for a piss and a quick shower. It takes him all of ten minutes to finish. After he dries his hair with a towel, he heads to the closet and surveys the small selection of clothes that are all in his size but aren’t actually his. That’s made obvious by the fact that all the shirts are neutral colored, many of the pants are ripped at the knees, and any form of outerwear consists mostly of hoodies.

At 27-years-old, Dick can’t imagine himself wearing ripped jeans. He knows from what Alfred told him when he arrived here that this universe’s Dick is only 19. Still, even when Dick was that age, he’d been wearing outfits that were considered more fashionable.

He figures the casual wear has something to do with the fact that this universe’s Alfred and Bruce are way more laid back in both manner and appearance than his own. Just yesterday, Bruce had been wandering around the kitchen in nothing but briefs and a t-shirt, something Dick's Alfred would definitely not have been pleased about.

He grins at the memory and surveys his options one last time before pulling on some light wash jeans and a beige colored Stussy shirt. He goes for a watch next—this Dick is apparently a watch guy because he’s got like six of them—and while he’s in the middle of fastening it to his wrist, he’s startled by Cora suddenly glowing green and emanating the sound of a bell ringing.

Alfred’s pre-recorded voice then comes through the speaker and says, “Breakfast is ready. Please make your way downstairs before it gets cold.”

Dick has to admit that out of all the things that are different about this alternate universe, having Alfred take full advantage of Cora’s abilities is one of the most amusing. Also, weirdly convenient. He’ll have to see about teaching Alfie how to use Alexa when he gets back home.

The Backstreet Boys are finally silenced once Dick turns off the alarm. He shoves his phone in his pocket before following the heavenly scent of food towards the kitchen.

The first thing he sees when he walks in is Bruce is sitting at the table with a tablet, no doubt reading this morning’s news. He’s already dressed in a black polo with the Wayne Enterprises crest embroidered on the breast. It’s tucked into a pair of gray trousers that are nicely tapered and draw attention to his suede penny loafers. Bruce’s hair is already neatly styled into place, and as Dick takes a seat across from him at the table, the smell of spicy cologne hits his nose. He can’t help but feel a little sad that the cologne isn’t the same as what his Bruce wears.

Bruce sets the tablet to the side when Dick finally settles in his seat. His soft blue eyes roam over Dick’s face in a way that Dick’s come to be familiar with since landing in this universe. He figures it’s because he looks a little different than 19-year-old Dick and that Bruce is probably curious about what his boy will look like in eight years. Either that or he just misses his kid in the same way Dick misses his Bruce.

“Morning, Dick,” Bruce greets with a smile, his tone rather chipper.

Bruce’s upbeat attitude and smiles had thrown Dick off when he’d first arrived in this universe, not having seen his own Bruce act like that since it was just the two of them against the world.

“Good morning, Master Dick,” Alfred greets while he gathers two plates from the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. He’s decked out in his white apron which looks pristine as always.

“Morning,” Dick says. He reaches for the carton of milk in the middle of the table and carefully pours it into the glass that’s been preset next to his placemat.

Alfred swoops in with the two plates and places one in front of Dick and the other in front of Bruce. Dick nearly curses in excitement when he sees what it is.

“A full English breakfast, Alf? Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he says, and his stomach rumbles loudly as if telling him to shut up and just eat. “But I’m so glad you did.”

“Me too,” Bruce says, having already taken a bite out of a sausage. “Thanks, Alfred. This is great.”

Dick hums in agreement and quickly works on lathering his bread with some of the beans, meat, and eggs.

“Thank you, sirs. I figured Master Dick might like it, seeing as he mentioned it’s something my counterpart enjoys making.”

“You figured right,” Dick says after he finishes swallowing a mouthful. “Back home, I’d eat one of these plates so fast that Alfie would get all Shakespeare on me.” With a switch in accent and tone, Dick imitates Alfred and says, “‘He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his!’”

Something like pride fills his chest when both Bruce and Alfred’s faces scrunch up in laughter. Bruce’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Alfred covers his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement.

Dick’s just glad they have something like Shakespeare to relate to even though he knows that this universe's William Shakespeare only wrote half the number of plays that are in Dick’s universe. Not seeing the recognition on Bruce and Alfred’s faces when he had quoted Romeo and Juliet at them the other night had broken his heart if only because it’s quoted frequently in his family.

“Sounds like Alfred alright,” Bruce grins.

“I’ll have to save that for when our Master Dick returns,” Alfred says, looking both fond and sad at the reminder of his missing boy.

“He’ll get a kick out of it,” Bruce nods, looking equally as wistful.

Dick shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the blatant display of affection for his counterpart. He can’t help but wonder if he’s being missed just as strongly back home. If he is, he’s sure it’s not being expressed as openly as this. Well, he likes to think that Babs, Tim, and Damian might have something to say about it in their own ways.

Alfred clears his throat to dispel the sudden quiet that falls over them. “Excuse me, sirs. I’ll be eating my own breakfast in the other room.”

“Going to catch up on watching You Just Got Served?” Bruce asks knowingly.

“What’s that?” Dick asks.

“A morning gossip show in the UK,” Bruce says, taking a sip of his coffee to no doubt hide his smirk from Alfred’s piercing gaze.

“Gossip,” Alfred practically scoffs as if offended by the idea that he could ever find such a thing enjoyable. He grabs his plate and cup of tea from the counter, and before he leaves the kitchen, Dick hears him mutter, “If I wanted to be entertained by gossip of all things then I would spend my days reading tabloids with your face plastered across them, Master Bruce.”

“Ohhh, burn!” Dick cackles while mentally high fiving Alfred and his quick tongue.

Bruce cocks an eyebrow. “Burn?”

Right. Universe differences.

“Where I’m from it’s something you say when someone else gets mocked or teased but, like, in a playful way.”

“Oh,” Bruce says quietly, eyes raised to the ceiling like he’s thinking. “I don’t know if we have a word like that here. I’ll have to ask Dick when he’s back.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment and falls quiet. His mind is a little occupied by all the food that’s still sitting in front of him, and he can tell that Bruce is the same way. Both of them are happy to sit in comfortable silence while they finish off the majority of their meals.

It’s only when Dick is washing most of it down with his milk that Bruce suddenly asks, “You sleep okay, Chum?”

Dick pauses at the question. Not because Bruce refers to him by the same nickname that his own Bruce calls him on occasion, but because the nickname is said with a soft look that Dick hasn’t seen on his own Bruce’s face in god knows when. He’s not sure what prompted the question, but he guesses he must look a bit rough for Bruce to bring it up.

“Kind of,” Dick admits with a shrug. He places his glass back on the table and then continues to dig into the scraps on his plate.

“Nightmares?” Bruce prods after chewing a mouthful of baked beans. His eyes are trained on Dick, and they’re unguarded in a way that his Bruce’s rarely are. It’s obvious he’s concerned, and Dick feels slightly touched that this Bruce who isn’t his dad is worried about him.

Dick’s fringe flops in his face when he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “My mind just wouldn’t shut up.”

Bruce hums. “Thinking about home?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Mostly just thinking about what I’m going to do if things go wrong in my universe and my Bruce isn’t able to implement the protocol.”

The protocol in this particular situation, as Dick had explained to Bruce the first night he showed up in this universe, involves a ten day wait period. He’s to standby and wait for his Bruce to get either Zatanna or Doctor Fate to open a dimensional portal to take Dick home. If they don’t come within the first ten days of Dick’s arrival, Dick is supposed to seek out the closest thing this universe has to a magic user.

On one hand, Dick is lucky that he ended up in a universe that has a non-hostile Batman who’s willing to help him. On the other hand, he’s completely fucked in that this universe’s Zatanna is on a deep space mission and isn’t due to return for another month. The League is also apparently not on good terms with Doctor Fate here, and while it’s not out of the question that they can eventually get him to help, Dick’s been told that it will be extremely difficult.

Dick knows that Bruce has already been looking into other options, desperate to get his own Dick Grayson back. For now, they’re mostly relying on Dick’s Bruce to make a successful swap.

“We’ll figure it out, Chum,” Bruce says with a comforting smile. “Worst case scenario, we wait a month for my Zatanna to get back.”

Dick bites his lip. “And if she dies on the mission?”

Bruce’s face shifts into a closed off expression that’s familiar to Dick but looks weirdly out of place on this Bruce's face. “Like I said… we’ll figure it out.”

Dick's mouth twists into a frown at the answer that is, frankly, not good enough for him. The only thing that keeps him from pushing the issue further is that he can tell Bruce isn’t satisfied with his answer either.

Dick decides to back off… for now.

#Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dimension travel #my fic

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

Note

yuri with yandere prompt number eight? i feel like thats the most accurate for him

This ask is old but I’m never gonna quit these yandere prompts. Try and stop me. (aka, here’s 5k of unhealthy pining and Yuri “I want to confess my love but I don’t feel like I deserve you” Leclerc)

A sharp, frightened gasp was what pulled you awake. Terror gripped your thoughts as a memory overrode all rational thought —the scent of tread packed filth and chalky, tangy, sharp stone filling your nose with each shallow, bloody, gasping breath. Cold, cutting gravel scraping against your cheek, your scalp, the sharp pebbles embedded into your skin with the force with which you had hit the ground. You couldn’t move, couldn’t fight your collapsed chest into expanding for air to fill your lungs. Escape, you had to escape, that was the only real, solid understanding in your dazed brain as you struggled against the blankets.

But then you blinked a few times, your eyes rolling as you focused them, and realized that was nothing more than a dream. You were safe. Sore, uncomfortable, in an unfamiliar bed and wearing unfamiliar clothes, but safe. And confused, still entangled in the cotton fog of unconsciousness.

You had been… Where had you been? Your head was foggy, your thoughts blurry, almost enough to convince you that you were dreaming. If only you weren’t so uncomfortable. Something was wrong, more than just being sick. There had been… Blood? Pain?

Agony. A blunt, overwhelming ache that had slammed against the entire right side of your body when you hit the ground. A whine had escaped your mouth alongside a glob of bloody saliva. The pain was all-consuming. You could remember that in the same second the pain registered so did the panic of knowing that you were going to be sick right there on the street. Nausea had seized your stomach and you had been helpless to its violent, urgent, undulating undertow. Rocks cut into your palms as you wrenched yourself up to avoid choking as you sputtered and heaved and coughed out the acidic bile. When you blinked, your sight clearing from a dozen fragmented frames into a single dizzy, tear-blurred picture, all you saw was blood. Blood in the watery puddle on the ground, scarlet staining your side, oozing up between your fingers as you pressed a panicked hand against the slash across your ribs as if that would force the blood back where it belonged.

But there was no blood now. No wounds to validate that terrible living nightmare.

Everything came flooding back into your mind as your thoughts cleared up. You remembered accepting Lev’s offer to ignore Yuri’s orders and perform a secretive strike on an opposing gang. You remembered going along with the plan and taking the dangerous role of getting everyone into the Vanargand base despite the risk. You remembered nearly died in the escape.

You remembered thinking that you were dead. In that moment of laying on the street in a puddle of your own blood, you had clung to the pathetic thought that you didn’t want to die. Even though you already had, you didn’t want to betray Yuri in this way, too. He didn’t want you involved in any of this, he did everything he could to keep you out of it. He promised your brother, he made a vow. But even that tragic, horrible thought had become cloudy as cold disseminated ice throughout your body, piercing all the way into the marrow of your bones and numbing your limbs, pulling you closer into the creeping void. That was the last of what you could remember.

Now, the only remaining evidence of your brush with death was the bruised shades of puce plum and rotten currant covering the entire right side of your body. Someone had used white magic to heal the direst of your wounds. Presumably, the same someone who had saved you. You were pretty sure you knew exactly who that someone was, too.

Your hero.

Yuri Leclerc with his violet eyes and smiling mouth and sweeping, dramatic cape who came to you after your brother’s death and told you of the promise he’d made as his boss and friend. Yuri Leclerc, the nearly mythical Underground Lord, the unaging Savage Mockingbird. Your hero, your knight in armor of shadow and subterfuge. He promised that he would protect you. And he had saved you. Again.

With a soft groan, you turned from laying on your back to your mostly uninjured left side. The bed was comfortable enough, better than your own. The room was smaller than yours, however, easily lit up by just a single lamp. By all standards, it was far from lavish, but you were covered in a thick comforter with two pillows plumped beneath your head. The four-poster frame was made of an attractively dark solid wood that matched the bedside table, writing desk, and chair. It looked an awful lot like the impersonal room of an inn, although there were clear signs that someone lived in here. Books and paper and feather pens were stacked on the desk, a glass rainbow of bottles lined up on the shelf above, a colorful swath of clothes on the rack.

Most telling was the way that the room, the bedding, and the clothes you wore all smelled like Yuri. An intoxicating embrace of spring rose and lilac, plush amber musk, and heady sweet vanilla. Achingly familiar, desirable, wonderful. Now it just made you sick. While the previous day’s actions could make a case for your intellectual deficiencies, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where you were. You groaned softly, closing your eyes.

Yuri was going to be mad. You had justified following Lev before by telling yourself that if the job went off without a hitch, Yuri would be so impressed with your skills that he would have no choice but to recognize you as a member of his gang and stop coddling you. Now you realized that it was and always had been an act of petty rebellion. Yuri would never respect your reckless disregard for his orders and your own life, not even if it had gone well.

Which it hadn’t. You had no idea what had gone wrong, you had performed your task without any problems, getting the small group of men into the compound without alerting any guards. Your brother had done well in teaching you to sneak around. But then there was complete and utter chaos and they all came running back as the compound was eaten up by flames, your so-called friends leaving you stranded on the top of the wall with a group of Vanargand men. So you jumped.

Even your vague recall of that particular agony made you wince, your stomach churning unhappily.

The sound of someone outside the door made your heart jump, your eyes instinctually closing to feign sleep. Maybe if you seemed like you were sleeping you could spare yourself a lecture. Or worse, his disappointment. The doorknob turned, the wood creaking, the metal hinges making the faintest squeak as they were pushed. You held your breath.

But nobody came in, stopping in response to the approaching sound of another, heavier set of footsteps. “Glad to see you back in one piece,” Yuri greeted whoever it was. With the door cracked the way it was, you could hear him quite clearly. His voice was friendly, matching the smile he must have been wearing, but it was sharp, too. You knew that tone, recognized the danger it hid. “I figured it would be you who led this little rebellion.”

“Rebellion?” Lev asked. “I acted for all of us. The Vanargand boys won’t be an issue anymore.”

Yuri laughed. Although the sound was oddly genuine, nobody could miss the fact that he was making fun of Lev. “You really believe that?” he asked, his voice lilting with disbelief.

Lev grunted, you could imagine his scowl. He scowled a lot. “If you knew what we did to them, you wouldn’t laugh.”

“All you did was kick the hornet’s nest,” Yuri said, unimpressed, “while ignoring my orders to standby.”

“I came here to tell you that I think things should change around here, I think-”

“I don’t actually care what you think,” Yuri said, cutting him off calmly. His tone was deadly smooth, dripping with the unique threat of his friendly malice. “I expect you to be out of here by the time the sun rises. That gives you, what, four hours? Plenty of time.”

“What?” Lev asked, his bravado faltering.

“Leave my city,” Yuri told him. “And pray that I never see you again.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Lev said. “Not after all I’ve done for you, for the gang.”

“No?” Yuri asked. “You directly disobeyed my orders and put my men at risk for the sake of your own ego. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to lose any and all trust I ever had in you.”

“The Vanargand Street Gang have been a pain in the ass for too long,” Lev told him, his tone growing combative. “I decided to do something about it.”

“I had them under control,” Yuri said. “without stooping to such boorish and dangerous methods.”

Lev responded with a mocking bark of a laugh. “Nah, this is about the girl, isn’t it? You should know that she all but begged me to take her along. If you wanna talk about trust, maybe consider why your precious little pet would disobey you.”

You froze, a cold, nervous sweat beading up at the nape of your neck, anxious nausea once again closing in your throat. Either unfortunately or fortunately, Yuri breezed right past that comment as if it didn’t affect him in the slightest. “This has nothing to do with her,” Yuri said without missing a beat. “If you don’t think I’m a fit leader, challenge my authority directly. But I’m warning you. Think carefully about what you do next. Right now, I’m relieved enough that nobody was seriously hurt by your incompetence that I’m willing to let you go with nothing more than a warning.” His voice lowered dangerously, forcing you to strain slightly to make it out. There was no playful teasing injected into these words, no way to interpret them as anything other than naked intimidation. “Don’t mistake my benevolence for weakness, you won’t live to regret it.”

A long moment of tense silence passed between the two men. You could imagine Lev’s storming rage, Yuri’s cool demeanor. You didn’t dare move, afraid that either would hear and unsure which was worse. The moment was broken only by another set of thumping, rhythmic footsteps cresting up the stairs. There was only one man who could possibly make that much noise.

“I heard shouting. I’m not missing the party, am I?” Balthus asked. While there was nothing directly antagonistic about the man’s voice, there was no mistaking the threat he posed. There was a reason he was Yuri’s right-hand man.

“No,” Yuri said. “Lev and I are simply having a… Disagreement.”

“Oh yeah?” Balthus asked. “Anything I should weigh in on?”

“That depends,” Yuri said. “What do you say, Lev?”

“Damn you, Leclerc.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Yuri asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m already damned.”

There was another moment of silence, almost long enough to make you wonder if the trio had somehow disappeared, before Lev swore under his breath and retreated past Yuri and Balthus, his feet pounding a cadenced thump, thump, thump as he stalked down the stairs.

“Balthus,” Yuri said when Lev’s footsteps were completely lost. “Would you mind making sure our friend makes it out of the city without doing anything reckless?”

“Think he might?” Balthus asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Yuri responded, his voice was more honest than with Lev. He sounded tired. “I sure as hell didn’t think he would make a move like this just yet.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Balthus paused. “What, uh, should I do if he tries anything?”

“Take him to the Vanargand. I’m sure they’ll be hunting him down regardless.”

Balthus whistled. “That’s pretty cold, boss.”

“It’s far better than he deserves,” Yuri said, his voice dark. “If she died, I…”

“No need to explain. I get it, pal,” Balthus said, saving Yuri from having to continue. As badly as you didn’t want to know what Yuri was going to say, you very desperately did, too. “I’ll make sure he stays in line. You look like you could use some rest. Or a drink.”

Yuri laughed, the sound a bit lighter than before. “You might be right about that.”

“Of course I am,” Balthus said. “You don’t live as long as I have without catching wise to these things. I’ll be off, then.”

“Good luck,” Yuri said, “and don’t do anything stupid. There’s only so much I can handle in one night.”

“Hah!” Balthus called, trampling right back down the hallway. “That big brain of yours will burst into flames if you keep on worrying about everything, pal. Better call it quits before you ruin that cute face with wrinkles.” Yuri laughed.

Realizing that Balthus leaving would mean Yuri would finally enter the room, you threw the blankets off of yourself and sat up. It hurt like hell, it felt like every single inch of your body was bruised, right down to the bone, but it was doable after the sickening dizziness passed.

You didn’t particularly want to get up, but you didn’t want to stick around and have the conversion you knew Yuri would start, either.

The way Yuri worried made your chest clench. You didn’t dare name it discomfort, but the feeling was awfully close. It was Yuri’s growing intensity that you noticed first. The way he’d get when other men got too close to you, the pointed questions he’d ask about your interactions with other people. How he worried when you had to travel or interact with people he didn’t trust, insisting that you tell him every single detail about what you were doing. Worse, the times when he seemed to know things he shouldn’t, things you didn’t tell him.

It was because of the promise he had made to your brother, he said, to keep you safe. Yuri valued the men under his command, and your brother had been a close comrade of his. And you bought it at first because your brother had always been protective, but Yuri’s behavior was different. He wasn’t your brother, but neither did you get the impression you were friends. Friends weren’t suffocatingly overprotective. Not friends, but not anything more, either. He never flirted with you as he did with everybody else, as he had before. Not even in a playful, teasing way. The tighter hold he kept on you, the more and more he maintained a distance.

Lev called you Yuri’s precious pet, and that struck too close to home. You hated it. You weren’t a child —you weren’t even a teenager anymore— and yet Yuri acted like you were made of glass. Like you couldn’t be trusted to look after yourself, like you were… Like you were a pet.

That’s why you had agreed to Lev’s job in the first. You wanted to change the dynamic the two of you had. You figured that if he saw that you weren’t as weak as he feared, that you were just as capable as the men in his gang, that he’d stop being so intensely and oppressively protective. But if he was willing to give Lev up to the torture the Vanargand gang would inflict on him for the sin of endangering you, you didn’t think it had been at all effective. Actually, it made sense that your near-death and horrible failure would have the opposite effect.

Steading yourself, you searched the room for your shoes. Someone, and you didn’t dare to think of who, had changed you into what you were pretty sure were Yuri’s clothes. While it made sense considering your own were probably nothing more than blood soaked rags, you weren’t incredibly comfortable with wearing his things. The smell alone was nearly overwhelming, but the level of intimacy it implied was something you didn’t dare consider. Even worse that you should wake up in his bed. His bed that was obviously big enough for two people, a bed that he had probably had company in because he was attractive and desirable and… And you couldn’t find your shoes.

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked. The door shut behind him, the metal latch clicking.

It occurred to you that while you’d been having a micro-meltdown, Yuri had probably been standing there watching.

“Leaving,” you responded, trying to maintain a neutral expression despite the way your voice cracked. That brave attempt fell apart with the way you burst into a coughing fit a moment later, hacking up sharp bursts of air against your scratched up throat, each breath sending aching pulses of pain against your bruised side.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Yuri scolded, rushing to the bedside table to pour you some water. So considerate, always. Guilt rose up within you. After he saved you, how could you be so rude and ungrateful? You knew he cared. He was your hero.

You averted your streaming eyes and took a few slow, careful sips from the cup as Yuri took a seat on the desk chair, sitting the wrong way with his arms draped over the chair’s back.

“Drink this, too,” he said, handing you a vial. You uncapped it to take a sniff it, wincing at the astringent scent.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’ll help with the pain,” he said. You nodded, grateful for the idea of that, and pinched your nose to down the vial. It was exactly as disgusting as it smelled. At the very least, it wiped the smell of Yuri from your head for a spell. “You should lay back down,” he recommended. “Magic can only do so much to heal your wounds. Not to mention that you’ve had a hell of a shock. Honestly, after what happened, I’m surprised you managed to get upright. You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

The implication, the reminder of what you’d done in such a banal tone, made you wince. Guilt or shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know. “I’m fine,” you said, staring at the floor rather than meet his eyes.

“It’s cute that you can say that with a straight face,” Yuri said. “Seriously, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled sarcastically, an instinctually petulant reaction to the way he treated you, “But I really am capable of taking care of myself.”

He didn’t even grace that with a serious answer, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

“I can’t stay here,” you said.

“You can,” Yuri told you, “and you will. You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t need a dead body on my doorstep. It’s bad for business.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yuri said. You met his eyes, frowning as you tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He sighed, likely reading the further arguments you were going to make in the way you looked at him. “I’ve had a long night dealing with your mess. Stop being a fool and do what I say.” “Or what?” you muttered, looking away again as you fought against the guilt. He didn’t own you, you weren’t even one of his men. He couldn’t order you around.

“Or I’ll make you,” Yuri said bluntly. “I doubt that’ll pleasant for either of us.”

That answer sent a shiver down your spine, whatever complaints you had been trying to maintain drying up on your tongue because you kind of believed him. His cold, cruel tone of voice when dealing with Lev was still all too clear in your mind. Besides, he was right. He was usually right. That didn’t help the terrible sensation of being treated like a child, like an invalid.

Avoiding his eyes, you set aside your cup and did what he said, tucking your feet back under the covers, leaning down against the pillows. It was a lot easier on your aching side, better for the splitting headache gathered up behind your right temple.

“Did you save me?” you asked after a moment, staring at the quilted pattern.

“Yeah,” Yuri responded, his voice unreadable.

“And you healed me?”

“What do you think?”

It had been a dumb question. You couldn’t imagine Yuri letting anyone else see that much of your bare skin to heal those wounds. All the same. “You don’t have to be rude, I was just clarifying,” you told him with a frown.

“Right, right, sorry. I just about forgot myself,” Yuri said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What I meant was that I was the one who rushed to your rescue and healed your wounds, fair maiden. Is that better?”

You frowned, refusing to be amused by his antics. Despite the joking tone Yuri took, those words set you on edge. He hardly ever teased you like that anymore, now it just felt off. “Who changed my clothes?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yuri asked. Was there amusement in his tone? At your embarrassment? You could feel that your cheeks were hot and hoped desperately that he couldn’t tell. “Well,” he shrugged apologetically, “it’s not like I had much of a choice and I couldn’t put you to bed in dirty clothes…” Yuri looked up to meet your horrified eyes, smiling. “Kidding. I do have some honor. I asked the landlady to help me out. Your virtue is intact.”

Virtue. You swallowed hard on that word, drinking the last of the water. Your thoughts were beginning to fuzz, becoming less clear. It made it harder to refocus after being caught off guard by his teasing. The pain wasn’t as crisp, more of a background ache rather than an insistent thud. That was distracting, too. You knew that, for some reason, he wanted to fluster you. But you couldn’t let him distract you, nor could you let your embarrassment deter you. So, clenching your fists, you looked up and met his eyes.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said carefully. “I’m… I’m sorry for inconveniencing you.”

Yuri didn’t answer right away, staring you down in his unnervingly piercing way. The intensity of his eyes was uncomfortable, but it was undercut with the swirling storm of concern amidst the individual strands of purple pigment, the void-like pool of pupil. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said carefully. And that was honest, genuine. He looked so tired. He sounded tired.

“I owe you. Twice, for saving me and healing me,” you said, forcing the words out in as business-like of a tone as you could manage. They were slurred, slightly. Had he given you a sedative? Or was this just normal exhaustion finally taking you out? “So tell me how you would like to be repaid, and I’ll see that it’s done.”

Yuri’s head fell to the side in confusion, like the question threw him off guard. Good. “Excuse me, what?”

“That’s how it is in your world,” you replied. “Our world. Right?”

“Our world?” Yuri asked, his expression retreating into a mask.

“The real world. Altruism doesn’t exist. When someone does something for you, there’s always a price. If I want to be taken seriously, I can’t keep being naïve about that.”

“That’s pretty cynical of you.” Was it just you or did he sound sad about that fact?

“You taught me well.”

“Not well enough,” he said, frowning as his eyes lingered on the bruises. He sighed. “So, I take it that that’s why you went? You want to be taken seriously?”

“Yes,” you said slowly, surprised that he’d be able to cut to the heart of it so quickly. Then again, it shouldn’t have been that surprising. Yuri was all too good at that.

“Word to the wise,” Yuri told you. “Never act unless success is guaranteed. If you want to be taken seriously, you have to have results to show for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.

“And another thing,” Yuri added. “Never give out open ended favors. Not even to people you trust. You might not like it when they call to collect.”

“But I know you wouldn’t want anything bad from me,” you said, frowning and unsure if he was implying what you thought he was. He couldn’t be, not Yuri. Not to you.

“Is that a fact?” he asked. “I could be helping you simply to get one of those incredibly enticing open favors. Now I’ve got two of them, I wonder what I could ask for…”

“I’m being serious,” you said.

“You think I’m not?” Yuri smiled at you like he knew all the secrets in the world, like you’d never catch him without the trickster’s mask or even guess at what he had hidden beneath. But then your reply was eaten by a mostly stifled yawn that tugged hard at your sore jaw and all pretense fell away to the concerned expression you knew so well from him. “Alright, enough of that. You look like you’re about to pass out. Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you, yeah?” he offered, flipping the chair around so he could sit directly at the bedside.

You couldn’t argue with that, yawning again. It hit you all at once, it seemed. You were passing out, the need for sleep becoming more and more pressing with each breath. “Next time,” you told him, your words slurring like a drunk as you settled further down into the bed. Your body felt so heavy, the colors of the room smoothing out like butter, the smell that clung to the bedding and the clothes filling you with warmth. “Next time for sure, I’ll show you. Then I won’t owe you-” you yawned, again. This time you just gave up. He definitely had given you a sedative. Unfortunately, you were too far gone to be mad. Sleeping would be nice anyway. You were so tired.

“There won’t be a next time,” Yuri told you. There was something absolute in his tone, a hard edge that wasn’t to be questioned.

“Why?” you asked, trying to clench your fists to remain lucid for a moment longer. This question was important, important enough for you to fight against your heavy and scattered thoughts. “Why do you care... so much?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri said, his voice threadbare and exposed. He really looked so tired, so beautiful. He had more masks than anyone, but right then you didn’t think that it was a mask.

He didn’t know either.

Where did that leave you?

Floating, it seemed. Lavender and milk and shadow blurred in your vision, the colors of Yuri. Your eyes fluttered shut, filled with a kaleidoscope of him. The pain was gone, you couldn’t even find the passion to argue or to be mad or afraid or upset. It was enough to be safe, to be with him, to be warm.

Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow you would get answers.

“You remind me of something I lost a long time ago,” Yuri said after a moment. It would have been too much to open your eyes or respond, so you just listened, marveling at the way his voice created the words, the way it caressed them. Had you really never noticed how delicious his voice was? You could lose yourself in it, you thought. “Something even I can’t steal for myself,” Yuri continued, “something more precious than a Heroes Relic. As long as I can preserve that, I can live with the consequences.”

You didn’t fight when he grabbed your hand from where it had fallen on the comforter, pulling it up into both of his. Yuri’s hands were rough, his fingers narrow and long and nice. They were scarred and bloodstained. They held yours gently, tenderly.

“Heh, maybe I’m a coward to tell you now. I doubt you’ll remember this by tomorrow.”

“I’ll remember,” you mumbled mindlessly, your eyes remaining closed. How could you forget this warmth? The beauty of the colors in your head, the feeling of his touch.

Yuri pressed his cheek against your hand. The skin was soft, warm. “Maybe you will. You certainly deserve my honesty. But after tonight... Maybe it’s too late to anyway. I tried so hard to protect you, even from myself.” He laughed, a humorless puff of air against your knuckles. “Especially from myself. Sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s inevitable that everything and everyone who becomes close to me will be stained by the association. I didn’t want to see that shine in your eyes become dull. This cruel, cynical world destroys everything of value, but not you.” He paused, thinking. You drifted, the words rolling over you without sticking, without meaning. His voice was so lovely. “But you’re wrong, you know,” Yuri continued after a while, pulling you back. “Things done out of love don’t have a price. You don’t owe me anything, you never have.”

Yuri’s lips brushed over your knuckles, a kiss over each ridge, before one of his hands untangled itself. You leaned into the feeling of his calloused fingertips on your warm cheek, pushing your hair out of the way as they caressed your face. Even in your vague stupor, the touch was enough to make your eyes open. Half-lidded, your sight hazy. Yuri glowed in the candlelight.

A smile tugged at the corner of his pink lips, a melancholic expression. So sad. Did he always look so sad? So beautiful? It made your heart ache, a hollow, faraway feeling.

“Hey,” he said, meeting your eyes. You attempted a smile in return, a dozing, drunken, delirious smile. “If I told you tomorrow that I loved you, would you take me as I am?” You hummed. A yes, maybe, no. He was still stroking your face, holding your hand. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been touched like this. Not since you were a child, you didn’t think. So nice, so soft. “That’s the problem, I don’t know. And I… I don’t act unless victory is assured. If I make a move and lose you for good…” He squeezed your hand, his eyes closing. “I don’t want to lose you. Not to the whims of the cruel world and not by corrupting you with my black heart.” Your eyes closed again, his words becoming lost in your fascination with his voice. Yuri’s fingers left your cheek, returning to wrap around your hand. “Even if can never have you,” he said, a soft resolution in his voice, “it’ll be okay as long as you’re safe. And I know that you’ll be safe as long as you stay with me.”

#dimitrimidim #yuri leclerc #fe yuri #yuri leclerc x reader #fe yuri x reader #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #my writing #yandere //#yuri #yuri x reader #whoops hope y'all like this #as the kids say #yeet #uh if there's issues just pretend they're not answering the phone

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

the waves don’t move here

(NOT MY GIF)

jj maybank x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @maybe-maybanks @katie-avery @snarkystarkey @5sos-seavey @jjmaebank

a/n: i know y’all don’t like the magical stuff as much, but i kind of liked this idea so this one’s for me :)

The sky is a weird shade of blue.

That’s all you can think about. The sky is a brighter shade of blue than it normally is. Everything looks brighter.

The trees are overly green, the road is nearly blinding you with how much the asphalt is reflecting the sun, and you realize you have no clue where you are.

Or how you got there.

You’re standing in the middle of the street. There is absolutely nobody around. It’s eerily silent.

Not even a bird chirps.

You search your brain to try and figure out how you wound up here. The street around you looks vaguely familiar. The look of the houses, the sound of waves crashing nearby tell you you’re still home.

But you know every single inch of your island, and you’ve never been on this street before.

Your legs carry you down the street without you even realizing, and you’re suddenly facing the ocean. The dock you stand on is just as unfamiliar as the street was. It looks somewhat like home, but deep down you know it’s not. This is not home.

It doesn’t take you long to realize this is a dream. In what world would the Outer Banks ever be this quiet?

Once you realize, you settle yourself on the end of the dock, dipping your legs into the water. There are no ships in sight. The ocean is open, endless. The water doesn’t move.

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to lucid dream. You’re pretty sure the very first step is to realize you’re dreaming.

Check. You pinch your arm to see if you can wake yourself up and nothing happens.

Maybe you can control the dream. Maybe you can manifest a tiger.

You close your eyes and scrunch them up tightly.

How do you create a tiger? You try and picture one in your mind.

You peek one eye open. No tiger.

Okay, maybe you need to say it out loud. “A tiger.”

You point to the dock, still closing your eyes.

“Roar?”

The sound of a voice, a human voice, makes you open your eyes and turn sharply.

It’s a boy. About your age, too. He seats himself next to you.

Apparently, your subconscious definitely knows how to make your perfect guy. He’s not a tiger, but he’s a hell of a lot better.

You’re not waking up anytime soon. You might as well play along.

“Hi,” you deadpan.

“Hi,” his voice is filled with confusion. ��I’m JJ.”

Your subconscious knows what you like really well if it’s making a voice like that.

“I’m Y/n. But, you know. You probably know that.” You laugh. This is so weird. You’re introducing you to yourself.

“Why would I know that?” JJ questions, sounding more confused than before.

“Because, you know,” You nod at JJ, assuming this manifestation of yourself understands. He just shrugs.

“So, like, who are you? Like, what are you doing here?” You prod.

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” He shoots back. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“No?”

You don’t remember how long you talked to JJ that night. You remember telling him how you can’t stand the texture of mushy apples, though. You remember him telling you the craziest things about a treasure hunt.

God, you really did have an overactive imagination.

When you wake up the next morning, the only thing you can recall other than JJ is the way the waves didn’t move.

You spend the day at work, bussing tables at the Wreck. It’s a good distraction from your running mind.

When your head hits the pillow that night, you keep him in your mind. You can’t manifest a tiger, but hopefully you can manifest a boy.

You open your eyes and you’re on the street again. This time, you know exactly where you are. You sprint down the street, not stopping until the small houses have turned into the familiar dock. You run towards the ocean.

He’s already there when you get there. He’s sitting in the same spot, and turns to look at you as your bare feet thud on the ground.

“You came,” JJ smiles.

“I think I would have found you even if I didn’t try.” “We don’t really get much choice, do we.”

You take your place next to him.

“So, you wanna tell me more about this treasure hunt of yours?”

You know when you wake up, you won’t remember this. You tell him how you cry when you watch those puppy commercials. He tells you how he loves the feeling of the sun on his back after he’s been surfing.

You tell him how your sister died when you were little. He tells you about his fear of his dad.

You’re both silent for a moment. Everything is silent. The waves don’t crash. The waves don’t move.

When you wake up, you stare up at the ceiling for a moment. He should’ve been real. You’ve never been able to connect with anyone like you’ve connected with the boy in your dreams.

But it’s just you. Just your brain coping with itself by creating a version of you to connect with.

You haven’t talked with anybody like that in a long time.

Nights after nights pass, and you continue to meet JJ in your dreams. You know you’re not really talking to someone, but it feels good to get it all of your chest. To just keep talking and know someone can listen. You tell him things you’re not even sure you really knew about yourself.

Many of those nights, JJ talks to you. He tells you his dad hits him. You’re not sure what to say.

He tells you some crazy things. You listen, and marvel at the way your brain has crafted this boy. This perfect boy.

Over these nights, things change. It’s in the way he places his hand on yours when he sits next to you. It’s in the way he looks at you when he listens to you talk. It’s in the way you realize JJ isn’t just a piece of your imagination.

The last time you meet JJ at the dock, you tell him you haven’t figured out how to surf, but you’re trying to learn. That makes him smile.

“I love surfing! I wish I could teach you.”

“Of course you do.” “What does that mean?” JJ frowns.

“Of course you love surfing. You’re just the perfect embodiment of who I’ve been looking for, so of course you know how to surf. You know how to surf because I want to surf.”

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” “Yeah, yeah, you’ll- sorry, I’ll never admit it. You’re not real.”

“No, you’re not real.”

You turned your head so fast that if this was real, you would’ve had whiplash.

“What?” “I know you’re not real, man. My brain just gave me someone to talk to because I couldn’t take being alone anymore.” JJ sighs.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you’re real, aren’t you?” You whisper.

There’s no way this can be true. You couldn’t have spent the past months calling yourself crazy for being in love with a boy in your dreams just to find out that he was real.

“Yeah? I wish you were.” “JJ, I am.” “Quit it. There’s no one like you in my world. I would’ve found you by now.” “I’m not kidding, this whole time I thought you were just my imagination, but,” you take a breath in, “but you’re real. Aren’t you?”

“So, so what? We’re both just dreaming the same dreams?” “I don’t know. I guess?” “Nah, this doesn’t make sense. What if we’re sleepwalking? Maybe we just sleepwalk to the same spot.” “JJ, that makes less sense.” “It makes just as much sense as us sharing dreams!” “The waves don’t move here, JJ.” You waved a hand towards the still water.

JJ left first that night. When you woke up, you tried to remember everything he had said to you. With each passing minute, more and more slipped away from you.

What did he tell you? Something about surfing?

All you could remember was the feeling. You remembered the overwhelming feeling of relief. As if a thousand pounds had been lifted off your shoulders. As if you could breathe again.

You couldn’t focus at work. You nearly dropped an entire plate of sandwiches and soup on a poor group of teenagers.

When you took your break, you retreated outside for a breather. You sighed and leaned your head back against the building.

“You’re so weird, Pope.” “I’m just saying!” The voices of teenage boys rung out in the air, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned and rushed back into the restaurant, aggressively re-tying the apron around your waist and tugging your hair back into a rubber band.

The door blew open as you turned to clear dishes off of a nearby table. You didn’t check to see as they seated themselves at a table in your section. They must’ve been the people from outside. Setting down your tray, you hustled over to the new table, fumbling to get your pad out.

“Hi, welcome to the Wreck, do you need a second or can I get you started with,” The rest of your sentence failed to slip out. You had just managed to get the pen out of your pocket when you looked at the table and the words died in your mouth. There were 3 boys. 2 of them you didn’t recognize.

One you definitely did.

JJ’s lips parted and his eyes grew wide. Your pen clattered to the floor, long forgotten. Neither of you could find it in you to say anything.

The other two boys seemed more confused, calling their friend’s name.

“Is this,” JJ got out, his finger mindlessly twirling around his head, “am I dreaming again?”

You tore your eyes away from JJ to look out the window, out towards the water.

The waves were crashing, pulled by the ebb and flow of the water.

You shook your head.

“I’m, uh. I’m JJ.” His voice was unsteady, just as unsure as you were that this could be real.

“I’m Y/n. But you probably know that.”

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374

Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.

Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.

Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.

“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”

He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.

For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?

He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.

Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.

“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”

He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky’s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.

“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”

“But you called back.”

“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”

“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”

Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.

“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”

“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.

“Coulda.”

Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.

“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”

“Not a very tight seal.”

“Guess not,” Sam agrees.

“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”

“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”

“You and those wings.”

“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”

“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”

“So it was illegal?”

Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.

“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.

“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.

“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”

“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.

Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.

“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”

“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”

“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”

“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”

Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.

“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”

“I have my system. My rules.”

“Oh yeah? What rules?”

“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”

“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”

“Don’t. It… helps.”

And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?

“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.

“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.

“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”

“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.

“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.”

“You wanted me in Tunisia?”

“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?

“Not like that.”

“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”

“Right. Can’t do any of that.”

“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”

“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”

Sam snorts.

“You were old-fashioned then.”

“I assume you had a team on the ground.”

“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”

“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”

It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.

Sam shifts in his seat.

“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”

“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”

It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.

“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.

“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”

“And that’s not a date?”

Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.

“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.

“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”

They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.

“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.

“What do I have to make amends to you for?”

“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”

Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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