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actuallysaiyan · 3 years

Note

Hii, I hope you’re doing good and are getting well through the pandemic!💗 Huge fan of your writing, especially your head canons!!

I was wondering if I could request a nsfw alphabet w Vegeto/Gogeta please? Or just some kind of nsfw headcanons in general? If u have done one already feel free to dismiss this^^

Have a lovely morning/day/evening/night!

A/N: Thank you so much for being such a sweetie and requesting a very fun request! I had lots of fun writing for these two, and I hope you enjoy it as well! Gogeta in Bold and Vegito in Italics!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Gogeta is very sweet after sex, despite being cocky when he’s fucking you hard. He’ll be gentle, and clean you up and just cuddle up. He enjoys feeling you so close to him.

Vegito can be a little sweet as well, but he doesn’t want to appear weak, even if it is just in front of you. He’ll clean you up and cuddle you, but he’s not going to have pillowtalk.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hmm, this is a tough one for Gogeta. He’s going to have to say maybe his arms...ohhh or his legs! It’s too hard for him to pick. He’s super strong, and he enjoys his physique. On you, it would be your pretty little mouth...er, your smile, rather. Though, you do look good with cock in your mouth.

Vegito loves all of himself. He’s not picky at all, and he thinks all of his physique is peak form. It’s pretty much a no brainer there. For you, it’s your thighs. He loves being buried between your cushiony and soft thighs, and when you make those pretty little noises and you’re squeezing your thighs around his head, he is weak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Gogeta is so messy with his cum. He’ll cum inside of you, if you like that. If not, he’ll cum all over you, painting you with his seed. He likes to watch you with his seed all over you, and he’ll scoop some up to feed you some.

Vegito has a breeding kink. It’s the Vegeta in this fusion that dominates, so he just needs to cum inside of you. It’s his favorite thing in the whole world. It’s just so fucking good when your pussy milks him for all he is worth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Gogeta and Vegito actually share the same secret, and it was to be able to fuck you at the same time(so a threesome with Vegeta and Goku). As this is the most viable way to have a threesome with both of them, they are both content with it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Gogeta is a bit less experienced, as Goku is the dominating one here. He’s not really the most interested in knowing how to have sex properly. He just does what feels good, and if you’re having a good time, then it’s great! If not, he’s quick to learn how to please you.

Vegito has a good amount of experience. He knows how to make you weak and very very wet. It’s one of his best techniques honestly. He just knows where to touch you and how to make you cum so quickly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Gogeta enjoys the om position, but he’s big on cowgirl as well. Something about having you in his lap or riding him makes him so horny. He loves watching you ride him, and the way your tits bounce...it’s really nice.

Vegito loves doggy style. He loves bending you over desks or counters to pound himself into you over and over again. If you get on all fours in bed, he’ll consider this is you presenting yourself to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Gogeta is pretty serious, but he can make some dumb remarks or jokes sometimes. He likes to keep things fun in bed, and sometimes he’ll just say some sexy joke or something dumb, but it’s funny and keeps things interesting in bed.

Vegito is very serious, and he gets into the moment. Sometimes, he’ll say something sexual or make a little dirty joke, but nothing crazy. He loves the serious aspect of fucking.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Gogeta is a little messy down there. He tries to keep it clean, but it grows very very very very fast. It’s the Saiyan genetics. Their hair doesn’t really stay cut even when it is cut. The carpet matches the drapes.

Vegito does what he can to keep the hair down there maintained. He has a different way of taking care of his pubic hair, and he enjoys it much more when he’s clean anyway. The carpet also matches the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Gogeta can be pretty sweet about having sex, but something he just says dumb stuff and it can take you out of the moment. He tries to just be very sweet, kind and attentive to your needs though.

Vegito is a little different. He can be degrading and rough with you, calling you names. But he can be romantic when he’s feeling a little more needy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Gogeta doesn’t really understand the need to masturbate. He’s got you for that, doesn’t he? He’ll do it if he’s super desperate, but it’s odd because he is the fused form of Vegeta and Goku, so it can get awkward.

Vegito does not masturbate. He’s got great self-control and he doesn’t need to get himself off if you aren’t around to help with that. Besides, it would fluster him anyway.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Gogeta has a bit of a size kink. He’ll be so turned on by towering over you and making you feel and look so small. If you let him pick you up in his arms and just manhandle you a little bit, he’ll be so hard.

Vegito has a breeding kink of course. He needs to cum inside of you and for you to tell him that you’re his and nobody else’s and that you’ll carry his baby. It’s just something that triggers inside of him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Gogeta isn’t picky about fucking you in all kinds of different places. He loves it anywhere he can, but he understands that inside your own home can be nice as well. It’ll give you more time without the chance of someone catching you red-handed.

Vegito absolutely wants privacy when he fucks you. It’s got to be somewhere that nobody else will find you. He wants to spend as much time as he can when he’s fucking you. He doesn’t want anyone coming in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For Gogeta, you really need to be clear about what you want. Place your hand on his thigh, and lean up to whisper in his ear “I want you right now,”. That should help, but if you need to be even more clear, just palm him through your pants.

Vegito doesn’t need a whole lot. If you touch his thigh, and give him a sensual look, he’s already rock hard. It doesn’t take a whole lot to turn him on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Gogeta isn’t interested in anal, scat or urine play. He does enjoy most of the other kinks, but he can be vanilla at times. Just let him have some fun, and you’re sure to have fun as well.

Vegito has similar preferences, but he doesn’t mind the anal aspect if you were interested. He likes different things on different days, so you’ll need to talk to him to know what’s going on.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Gogeta would much rather give you oral than receive, but he still enjoys it very much. He can be a bit sloppy with his oral, but it’s so fucking good. You’re always so wet, and he loves lapping up your juices. For blow jobs, he may get a little rough, but he’s going to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.

Vegito loves blow jobs. Please get on your knees and pull his cock out of his pants and just slobber all over it and gag on it. He’s fucking weak for the way you deepthroat him and just choke on his cock. He’ll definitely reciprocate and make you cum tenfold!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Gogeta is a little more clumsy with his pacing, and it can be downright animalistic sometimes. He’s big on gripping your hips and slamming himself into you. If you need him to be slow, just explain it to him and he’ll do that for you.

Vegito is a tease most of the time, so his pace is actually quite slow and drawn out. He loves being a little rough sometimes, but he enjoys dragging his fat cock head against your walls to make you whimper.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Gogeta actually loves quickie a whole lot. They don’t take up too much time, and you both get to cum as well. It’s nice, and he can just pump himself into you and fuck you at his fast pace, and you’ll both get off very quickly.

Vegito loves a drawn out process, but quickies can be nice as well. If he’s busy and he needs to train, you can trust that he’ll pick a quickie over hours of sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Gogeta isn’t huge on risk taking, so he’ll go with his tried and true method when he can. If you want him to experiment with you a little more, just explain it to him and he might understand.

Vegito likes to tease you, so he’ll take some risks from time to time. He’ll finger you in public, or he’ll buy you some vibrating panties and make you cum inside a store.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Both Gogeta and Vegito have incredible stamina, and the fact that it is both Vegeta and Goku fused, it actually makes their stamina almost doubled sometimes. They both can last forever, but they’ll take pity on you for being just a normal human and they’ll stop when you need a break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Once again, Gogeta doesn’t really understand the point of having toys. If you buy some, he’ll learn how to use them but he doesn’t really care too much about it.

Vegito has lots of toys. He buys all kinds of things to make you cum in all different ways. He loves restraints and vibrators, but handcuffs and whips can be exciting just as much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Gogeta tries to tease, but he’s weak to your pleading and he doesn’t want to make you wait for your orgasm for too long. He loves the way you look when you come undone.

Vegito is a fucking huge tease. He loves watching you writhe beneath him as he brings you to the edge and pulls away. He’s sweet about it though, as in he lets you cum so hard when he finally decides it’s time for you to cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Gogeta is very loud, and he grunts and groans and just lets you know he’s enjoying himself very much. He’s loud, and people will hear you if they are around.

Vegito is a little quieter, but if you blow him, he may get a little loud when you do. He moans when you blow him, but he mostly grunts when he’s fucking you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Gogeta gets cocky when he fucks you, and this is Vegeta’s influence coming out. He’ll ask you stuff like “Who’s cock are you fucking?” and “Who owns this pussy?”

Vegito is very sweet sometimes, and this is Goku’s empathy coming through. If he thinks he’s hurt you for real, he’ll stop immediately and make sure you’re okay before continuing.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Both of them have huge cocks! Around nine inches long, thick and curved only slightly. Besides that, they both look like they’ve been carved out of marble by the Gods themselves. They have perfect physiques.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Gogeta gets a little needy sometimes. He’ll just hump you and you’ll get to fucking right away. He has a very high sex drive and needs to take care of it as soon as possible.

Vegito has a normal sex drive. He loves fucking, but he doesn’t necessarily have to do it all the time. Just let him know you’re in the mood, and he’ll probably fuck you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Gogeta is out like a light almost immediately after taking care of you. He’s cuddling you in his arms and snoring away.

Vegito likes to stay awake for a bit and just relish in the feeling of you having you in his arms. He doesn’t always get these moments to himself.

#writing #reader requested #anon requested #gogeta #vegito #gogeta x you #gogeta x y/n #gogeta x reader #vegito x you #vegito x y/n #vegito x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball super fanfiction

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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

Text

right in front of you | joshua hong.

SUMMARY. it’s easy to miss things when you’re preoccupied. but sometimes the obvious answer is just simply right in front of you.

PAIRING. baritsa! joshua hong x female! reader GENRE. coffee shop! au, FLUFF, humor, underlying pining HGDJF joshua being a sweetheart and mc being a dummy WARNINGS. excessive swearing WORD COUNT. 996 PROMPT. “it’s two sugars, right?”

NOTE. ahhh omg super SUPER overdue but it’s here >< @adi--writes happy (late) valentine’s day, adi <33 i hope the good vibes in this make up for my tardiness ;o;

Ah! Love.

That was the name of the cafe you were making your merry way into— not at all what you were feeling, at the moment. Normally, the feeling whenever you’d see the pretty pink sign above the glass doors would be a lighthearted form of delight, but not today.

Today you stormed through the entrance, nearly throwing the doors out of their hinges, all while spewing out profanities into your phone like a madman.

“One week! She sent the invitations one god forsaken week before the wedding and she expects us to go along with the ridiculous fucking theme she set up!” you fumed, stopping right at the middle of the small establishment, all eyes unknowingly pointed towards you. “No, I’m not just mad because I hate her. It’s really just unreasonable.”

This was a sight to see for all the employees of the store.

They were all used to seeing their cute and nice regular being all calm and composed. Which was why Kim Mingyu was suddenly scared to take your order with the violent whirlwind storming around you.

“I’ll take care of her, Gyu.”

Mingyu flinched out of fear stricken daze when his co-worker, Joshua, emerged from the breakroom, tying his apron back on as he approached the taller male. Joshua’s break wasn’t over yet actually, but seeing you and how much Mingyu was nearly pissing himself at the thought of approaching you in your flurry, he didn’t mind stepping out. For that reason and perhaps an underlying other.

“You sure?” Mingyu wearily asked. “You’re gonna get yourself into that?”

“I’m gonna fucking cut a bitch, I swear—”

Mingyu nudged his head to your direction to prove a point. Joshua simply smiled and nodded. He started making his way toward you. “Good luck,” was the only thing Mingyu left off with before dealing with a different customer at their cafe.

When Joshua walked up right in front of you, he didn’t expect you to stop spitting out venom each time you opened your mouth. In fact, you hadn’t even noticed him. Even after saying his usual greeting and asking how may he help you, you didn’t budge, still blinded by the rage of a million suns. He laughed a bit, finding it a little amusing, before deciding to put serving you into his own hands.

Quite literally.

In the middle of your small tantrum, he swiveled behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you to walk all the way to the counter, where you finally found the consciousness to address your surroundings.

“Do you know how fucking obnoxious it is to hold your wedding on freaking Valentine’s day? Fuck, everyone should be celebrating their own love lives, not hers. She planned on fucking purpose, what a lunatic, I swear— oh, thank you, Joshua.”

He sat you down on one of the round stools lining the front of the counter, sending you a cute smile and a nod before running back behind to take your order. In the meantime, you were still engrossed in your conversation.

“Am I still going? Of course. She’s my cousin. But I’m not—”

“Blueberry cheesecake today?” Joshua interrupted. You looked up at him, phone still in your hands.

“Yes. Thank you,” you briefly smiled at him. “But I’m not letting that spoiled brat get away with whatever she wants. I have a plan. I’m gonna—”

“Do you want your usual coffee with that?”

“Yes. Thanks, Josh. Anyway— what’s more embarrassing that having the bride and groom be bested by their guests? I’m gonna make sure to put that little shit to her place. It’s been years, man, years since she stopped growing up from her brat phase and— what? Well. Yes, I don’t have a boyfriend to pull this thing through, but—”

“Large? Dine in?”

“Yep and yep. Thank you, Joshua. I’ll tip you generously. Yeah, I don’t have a boyfriend now, but that’s an easy fix, right? How hard could that be? I can just look around, flaunt my charm a little bit, and maybe I can find the one right in front—”

With a clatter, the blueberry cheesecake and coffee that you had ordered were placed before you, not fully registering that you had actually ordered something until now. Your voice trailed off, a little embarrassed at your tactlessness as your eyes slowly rose up and up and up to meet the ones staring right at you with such tenderness and patience.

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“...of me.”

There was silence.

You blinked at Joshua absentmindedly for reasons you could not quite pinpoint, but maybe the taste of dryness coating your throat and tongue was an indication of something. The softness in his gaze suddenly flipped a hundred and eighty degrees into a silent panic from your lack of response.

“Right?” he repeated nervously, trying to keep up his smile. “...wrong?”

“N-no, you’re perfect— I-I mean, you got it perfectly. Thanks,” you breathed out a large grin, quickly snatching the cup of coffee from the table to take a sip all while shutting off your phone and leaving it forgotten on your lap, not because you needed to cover up your sudden lack of control of your expression. Definitely not. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, finishing up the steaming hot drink in one go. Jesus, when did this place get so hot?

“I’m glad. I was scared that I got your taste wrong,” Joshua gleamed, looking down at the now empty cup of coffee. “Enjoy the rest of your food.”

He left with your empty cup, back facing toward you, and you let out a deep sigh. You quickly grabbed your phone once more, seeing a few missed calls, but you ignored all of that and went straight to your messages.

I think I may have found just the right guy, you texted your friend, furtively looking at Joshua every few intervals. But how do I ask him out?

#cwcvg2021 #caratwritersclub #joshua hong x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong fluff #joshua hong scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenrios #svt scenarios #hong jisoo fluff

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ficforce · 3 years

Text

Asakusa Crush Part 1

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader SFW / NSFW No set timeline New relationship

Hikage and Hinata had been munching on their sweets, following close behind Benimaru who was buying them whatever he could to keep them quiet - they were particularly hyper that day and he was beginning to wish he hadn’t let them tag along. It was a routine walk through the town, making sure nothing was going to wrong and that none of the smaller gangs had any ideas about who Asakusa belonged to. The girls both walked straight into him as the man stopped suddenly and a head popped out either side of him to see what the fuss was up ahead.

A big man was mouthing off at the front of a store, demanding the owner come out and settle things like a man and accusing them of robbing him.

“Another fight, huh…” Benimaru crossed his arms and watched as the twins stood in front of him to watch. The guy must have been about six foot four and he had a big build, Benimaru figured he’d pack a punch but not be too fast on his feet, the scars and bruised knuckles identified him as a guy who brawled a lot. The curtain was moved aside from the store and out stepped a young lady, she was wearing a flowery yukata and he was a little surprised to see she was only wearing bandaged binding beneath it, had she just woken up? She was rubbing her eyes and then pushed her hair out of the way a little.

“Where’s the old bastard who owns this shit hole?!” The man stalked over to the woman and put his hand on her shoulder to move her out of the way. Benimaru barely caught the move so he was damned sure that the big guy never saw it coming. Her hand had shot up onto his wrist and with an elegant twist and using his own momentum against him, she had the man on his back on the dusty ground.

She stepped back from him and covered a slight yawn, she had definitely been taking a nap, “What’s your problem? You were loud last night too. If you can’t handle your drink then don’t come here anymore.”

“Y/N is hilarious!” Hinata cheered,

Hikage nodded, “She’s always best when she’s sleepy!”

Benimaru looked down at the two, they knew her? He couldn’t recall ever seeing her and he thought he had met most people in the town, “Y/N? Who the hell is she?”

“She came here a month ago, Waka, the bar owner is her grandpa or something.”

“Sooner he kicks the bucket the sooner she can make it fun for us!” The two giggled and then hung onto Benimaru, “She has a cool fire trick too!”

By this point the man had gotten up off the ground, spitting onto it and getting himself up, he swung at Y/N twice, both times she stepped out of the way and on his third swing she punched him between the eyes and he fell down flat. Unconscious before he hit the dirt. “Yeah! Kick his ass Y/N!”

Benimaru met Y/N’s eyes as she looked in his direction, it was for a second and then she glanced down at the twins, her annoyed expression brightened and she grinned at the girls with a small thumbs up. The Captain’s heart was pounding in his chest and he felt an odd heat spike inside his gut, why the hell was that?

A tug on his clothing pulled the left sleeve down and he yanked it back up, Hikage sticking her tongue out at him and the bouncing on her feet as she saw Y/N approach them, “You two weren’t even gonna help, were you?”

They shook their heads and then grinned at one another before pointing up at Benimaru, “We were waiting for the man to do the decent thing!”

“Waka didn’t do a thing!

“Shame on you!”

He clicked his tongue at them, grumbling for them to shut up and then he was looking at the woman close up. She didn’t seem special, her appearance was a little rough, the yukata was too big for her and obviously just thrown on - did she even know that it was so open? She didn’t even have anything on her feet. She was plain and he was oddly speechless.

“Waka?” She asked and then she seemed to have a moment of realisation, “You’re Be- uh, Shinmon Benimaru, right?”

She was from the Empire then? She’d barely caught herself in saying his name in the correct order, that should have put him off her but it really didn’t, she looked like she belonged in Asakusa and Benimaru was still struggling to speak so he just nodded.

“Hika and Hina gave me the heads up on who’s who in Asakusa, you’re pretty high on their list of people. I’m Y/N, sorry for the ruckus just now…” She figured that fighting in the street wasn’t the best way to meet the town’s Demolishing King.

“What fighting style were you using?” That was the only thing he could get to come out of his mouth.

“A little Aikido, some Kobudo and generally the skill of avoiding getting hit. I lived on the outskirts of the Empire barely inside of Tokyo, it got a little rough from time to time.” She watched him give another nod and took a step back, “Well, I guess I’m up now, I better get the bar ready for tonight - Later, girls!” The twins chimed in their goodbyes and then gave a pull on Benimaru as they complained he was too slow.

He had been fixated on watching Y/N walk away, he wanted to follow her and talk a little more now that the beating in his chest had calmed down. “What the hell was that…?”

—

Konro couldn’t help but watch in fascination as his young Captain stared after the new girl, the mismatched red eyes glued to her as she chatted away with Hinata and Hikage after bringing snacks to the guardhouse. The Company had been busy rebuilding most of the morning and people were bringing them food and drink to keep them going, there was nothing like watching a loved one combust and getting put to rest to bring everyone together. But since she had arrived, Benimaru hadn’t moved and his face had a little more colour to it, he decided to try something out and made a random comment, “She’s pretty.” He was being honest, she was wearing a cute yukata with a flowery belt, she wasn’t too made up and her hair was kept simple - she looked like a sweet girl.

“She’s amazing.”

Konro nearly choked on his surprise, “What?”

“…W-what?” Benimaru tore his eyes away and looked up at Konro, his face heating up as he realised what had just happened and he turned his head to glare at the opposite wall, “Shut up! Get that dumb look off your face or I’ll -“

“You’ll what?” Konro smirked, “Blush some more?” This was great, Benimaru didn’t get crushes, Benimaru wasn’t a virgin either but he never really showed too much interest in women. For him to actually get embarrassed like this was better than any hazing he had put Benimaru through as a young teen. “I wish I had the camera right now.”

Benimaru clicked his tongue angrily and stepped out of the doorway without looking, straight into Y/N like some dumb cliche. “Watch it!”

“You stepped into me, dumbass!” Y/N shot back at him with a glare to match his own, a slight orange glow to her eyes.

Benimaru wanted to know what she could do, was she a second or a third-generation? Would she have a real sting in her tail or was she just flashy? “Tch!” He went to sidestep her but she blocked him, “The hell you want?”

“An apology.”

“Not happening, move” He reached a hand to her shoulder to move her aside and grunted as she used the heel of her palm to knock it away. Was she challenging him? She didn’t look anything like the woman fighting in the street a few days ago, this well-groomed, pretty face had no place in giving him trouble. “I said move.”

He moved quicker this time and she countered, their palms and forearms collided several times as they attacked and countered, “And I said apologise.”

There was a small crowd around them now, excited murmurs buzzing along them as they watched the standoff. Konro grabbed Hinata and Hikage before they could run over and join in, he approached them both and put a hand on each of them. “If you’re gonna fight, do it away from the new building work.” Benimaru shrugged him off and walked away in the opposite direction, Konro watched after him with a barely concealed smile - he had it bad for this girl. “You shouldn’t play with fire.”

“I’m fireproof,” Y/N smiled up at the man benignly, “Besides…I’m just pulling on his pigtails.”

The twins giggled at her side and teased her about her own crush on Benimaru.

#shinmon Benimaru #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai

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saltedpeppermintmocha · 3 years

Text

how sweet it is (to be loved by you) - todoroki x reader [chapter 2/8]

Summary:

You are the head baker and owner of a struggling bakery. When pro hero Creati comes in for a wedding cake, of course you accept.

As a business owner, you are excited about the boom in profits resulting from the publicity of working a hero wedding.

As a baker, you are ecstatic to work on an extravagant cake - your most ambitious one to date.

As a woman, you are terrified as you begin to grow feelings for the one person you REALLY cant: the groom.

NOTES: NO infidelity, NO cheating, NO divorce!

Chapter One

MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

Four Months Before the Wedding

“Hello.”

His voice is deep and his words soft-spoken. He politely kicks his winter boots against the mat at the front door and takes another step into the bakery. The movement causes flakes of snow to detach from his hair and flutter to the ground around him. It’s almost magical, like a scene from a fairytale. Wow. You can’t help but stare.

The man is tall -more so than you’d thought from the rare interview you’ve seen of him- and impeccably well dressed. His expensive-looking navy coat is long and chic, somehow managing to fit both his smaller waist and powerful shoulders. It’s probably tailored. You idly think of your coat hanging in the back: an item you’ve had for about five years now that definitely looks its age. What wouldn’t you give to be one of these rich people that for some reason seem to be visiting your bakery recently.

That thought brings you back to reality. Right. Pro hero Shouto is in your bakery.

Why is he in your bakery?

It slowly dawns on you. Rich people. The wedding. “Oh, you must be here for the cake.”

“I am.” He nods, looking around the little front area. You feel a little self-conscious, hoping that everything he sees is up to his standards. “Forgive me, were you about to close?”

“No no!” You wave your hands as he turns to look at you. “It’s okay! This actually works better, we can discuss everything without being interrupted.” Walking over to the door, you flip the sign over to ‘closed’ and gesture towards the seating area. “Please take a seat. I’ll go grab my stuff and be right back.”

Turning on your heel, you head for the back room without another look back at the hero. Instead of going straight for your wedding binder and notebooks, you lean against the nearest wall and place your head in your hands.

Oh my god. Shouto Todoroki is the groom.

Somehow, this wedding is an even bigger deal than you thought. Obviously, any hero wedding became an important event, but you had thought (hoped, even) that maybe Creati was marrying a civilian or a lesser-ranked hero. The wedding would still be a big deal, but you were confident in your ability to handle it. Shouto Todoroki, a beloved hero in the top 15, is definitely not what you were expecting. This wedding is bound to be huge in a way that you definitely had not prepared for.

The hero profession is a solitary one. Pro heroes rarely date, and if they do it is a very secretive affair. It is extremely dangerous to date a hero and those brave enough to try become an instant target for villains. This target only gets bigger the higher the hero’s rank is, and most top heroes don’t even try.

Thinking about it, you can’t really think of any of the top 10 heroes other than Creati (apparently) who are in a relationship. Sure, there were rumors about the number six hero Deku and the number twenty-four hero Uravity, and Endeavor must have had someone if he has kids but-

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Todoroki is, well, a Todoroki . He is Endeavor’s son. The terrifying number one hero will probably be at this wedding. The number one hero will probably eat your cake. And if it’s both Todoroki and Yaoyorozu’s wedding, you can bet that a bunch of other big-name heroes will be there as well. Your vision swims as pressure pushes on your shoulders. How can you even begin to deliver a cake up to this caliber? You might be good, but you’re just one person.

You’re going to need to block off more days.

After what is probably a suspiciously long pause, you manage to calm yourself down enough to push off the wall to grab your binder and notebook. You pause before heading out to the front area, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before walking out.

Todoroki has found a small table near the window. He has partially turned away from you, face resting on his palm as he looks out to the snowy street. He has taken off his scarf and coat, both draped carefully over the back of his chair. How does he manage to look so elegant while doing something so normal?

You pinch your thigh. Stop it. You can’t think this way about him. You have to be professional. He is a client. He is a married man .

“Sorry for the wait!” You call out, heading over. He turns to look at you as you sit across from him, placing the binder and notebook on the table. You take this opportunity to introduce yourself properly. Up close, you find him even more handsome than before. Those dual-toned eyes are calm and watchful, and his sharp features have a symmetry to them that would not look out-of-place on a Vogue Japan photoshoot.

“Nice to meet you.” Todoroki gives a polite smile, shaking your hand when offered. It’s quite cold. “I believe Momo has already spoken to you about the general idea.”

“Yup!” You nod, taking the moment to open your notebook. “Unless things have changed, we’re still going for a five-tier cake.” Glancing up, you wait for him to nod before continuing. “What design are we thinking of?”

You look down, ready to write quick notes on whatever design has been chosen. This is the part you’ve been both excited for and dreading the most. Normally, you are extremely excited to get a design and to work to bring that design to life. You live for the expression you see on the client's face at their first look at the finished product. This time though...you’re nervous.

The design that is chosen will either make or break your next few months. If the design is easy and normal, you will be able to complete it on time with confidence. If the design is unusual and complicated, you honestly don’t know what you are going to do. This cake has to be perfect down to the smallest details, and you have to balance your time between the cake and running the store. Maybe you can hire another baker on a contract for help. Hmm.

After a few moments of no response, you look up. “I don’t know.” That normally blank face seems unsure. His mouth pulled into a small frown.

“You...don’t know.” You blink. That’s a bit weird. “Okay...I just thought that you would have a bit more input.” He is the groom, after all. You didn’t think Yaoyorozu was the kind of woman to insist that only she had input in these matters. Wait. Was that rude to say? You decide to push past it for now. “No matter, as long as we can get the full contract done for today I’ll be happy. I’ll need the design elements as soon as possible though if we want them to be completed on time. Some parts will probably need a lot of planning. Do we know the flavour or flavours yet?”

“No.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth. Calm, be calm. “ Okay. I’d like to set up a taste test of the top requested flavours, so that you can get an idea of how the cake will actually taste and make the final decisions. I’ll need to do that as soon as possible.”

“I understand.” He nods, a bit stiffly.

“Do you...have a date in mind?”

He gives you a surprised look, two-toned eyes flickering over you. “...for the wedding?”

You sit up straight. “No!” What the hell? Did he think you were propositioning the groom to his own wedding? “You obviously have a date for the wedding. For the taste test!”

“Oh.” He replies simply, not seeming to understand the absolute absurdity of his own question. “No, I will likely not be involved with that. I only came today as a favour.” A favour?

Todoroki takes note of your confused expression and explains. “They got held up by the villain attack.” Oh, that makes sense. Yaoyorozu must have gone to help the others. The U.A students tend to appear whenever possible to help each other out. You think it’s sweet that they have such a strong bond after graduation. You don’t really talk to anybody you went to school with anymore.

His explanation does give your meeting a bit more context. If Yaoyorozu is ‘in charge’ of the cake, and Todoroki did not expect to even be meeting you, you can’t really get too annoyed at him that he doesn’t have the answers. At least he showed up and didn’t leave you wondering if you’d been stood up by the heroes. In the end, you decide to table the question about the cake tasting date, but underline it in your notebook. You’ll need that, soon.

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly. The two of you go over the contract in as much detail as possible. While it is extremely unorthodox for you to leave blank spaces in your contracts, you are sort of forced to do so in the areas of flavors and design. In the end, the hero couple is paying over double the amount you would normally charge for the cake. You can’t imagine any crazy design or flavour going over that cost. Neither hero seems like the crazy type of client. You’ll be fine. Hopefully. If you’re wrong then...well...you’re kind of screwed. The publicity has to be worth it.

After only about an hour of discussion (you really don’t have too much to go over, with Todoroki knowing nothing about the design or flavours), the meeting is over. You close your notebook, stand up and offer a hand to shake to end the meeting. Todoroki stands, shaking your hand with his cooler one. He assures you that somebody will reach out to you soon about the needed elements. You hope you’re right.

“I am sorry that I kept you after hours.” He says as he gracefully slides on his coat, glancing outside. “I hope you don’t have too far to walk.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry, I actually live upstairs.” Something flickers in his face that you can’t catch.

Then he nods. “I see.” He wraps his scarf around his head, somehow managing to look both cute and attractive. He heads towards the door, the bell chiming as he opens it. “Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye!” You smile and wave. “Be safe out there!”

You watch as he leaves, completely still until you can no longer see the red and white hair out the window. Letting out a deep breath, you sink back down into the chair.

Well, that sure was something.

----

You’re not sure exactly what prompted the suddenly quick response after so long of nothing, but some of the information you need comes the very next day.

It’s early morning. The store has just opened, you can hear the slight bustle of your loyal morning folk as they come to get their breakfast. Your morning worker -a young man named Tanaka who is almost scarily jolly in the morning- welcomes everyone with his juxtaposition of a voice: booming yet somehow soft.

You have been down at the bakery for hours now, getting the first round of bread, pastries, and other necessary items complete before opening. It’s a lot of work, but you can’t complain. At least you still have work. You have just finished a batch of your personal favourite, rosemary goat cheese croissants when your phone rings in your pocket.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket (the thing has been covered in flour before, it’ll be fine), you check the contact name.

[ Contact: C Manager ]

Your eyes widen, and you instantly accept the call. With one careful eye on your ovens, you walk over to a nearby wall and lean against it. “Hello?”

"Good morning.” The soft voice of Yaoyorozu chimes in on the other end. You straighten a bit, surprised to hear the hero directly. “My apologies for Shouto the other day. I understand he wasn’t too much help to you.”

“No no, it’s okay!” You gesture with your hands, realizing afterward that she obviously doesn’t see it. “He was really kind, and we still got some work done.”

“I see.” She hums thoughtfully on the other end of the phone. “Well, he did mention that you were getting stressed about certain elements of the cake. Is that correct?” Oh no. You hope she doesn’t think you’re being rude.

But she doesn’t sound annoyed or frustrated at you. If you had to guess, her tone sounded more amused than anything. You bite your lip before answering. “Ah, well...I don’t want to pressure anyone. I just need to get started on certain things or it won't be done in time.”

“Yes, I understand.” She responds. “I figure I can give you some of the design ideas now if that works?”

Oh, hell yes! “That would be wonderful!” You can’t help but smile. Finally. “Do you want to meet somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m caught up in this-” She pauses as a loud sound comes through the phone. “ thing at the moment. Will you be amenable to me giving you the details over the phone?”

“Oh, yea! That’s okay.” You push off the wall and rush towards the office area, grabbing the newly named ‘Y&S Wedding’ binder with your flour-covered hands. It’s fine. You anchor the phone between your shoulder and your face and grab a pen with your other hand, opening the notebook to the ‘design’ page. “Okay, what do you got?”

The cake turns out to be pretty normal as far as wedding cakes go, which you are extremely thankful for considering everything. It is a five-tier cake, classic white with cascading pink flowers and green stems/leaves. That is...definitely doable. You can ace this. Thank god. Relief hits you hard in the chest as you write it down.

“Is there anything extra that either party would like to be added?” You ask, your tone dipping into complete professionalism as your mind has a mini-party at the relatively easy design. You doodle a happy face beside your notes.

“No, that is alright,” Yaoyorozu replies. “It was a struggle already to talk him down from some of the crazy cake designs he had in mind to something more...appropriate.” A pause. “Not that any of the ideas were bad per se, but I don’t think the wedding is the place for a giant All Might statue cake.”

Your mind-party screeches to a halt. What?!

“He...wanted an All Might cake?” You ask in disbelief. That doesn’t sound like Todoroki at all. Maybe it was a way to ‘get back’ at Endeavor? There have been plenty of rumors over the years about that relationship, but they team up enough now that most have been pushed to the side.

“Yes, well, he adores the man.” She says it with a fondness that seems almost inappropriate considering your current state.

You think of the calm prince-like man from the day before. Could he really be that big of a fanboy of a hero like All Might? It just doesn’t compute. They were so different. You really can’t picture it. Still, it’s not like you really know Todoroki. Maybe he has some secret obsession or something.

Somehow, you feel like you’ve gained some insider knowledge. The press would pay a good amount for something like this. Not that you ever would go to them, ew. Actually, would they even believe you if you did? It was so absurd.

You realize that you have disappeared into your own thoughts. A big no-no when on the phone with a client. You pull yourself back. “Thank you for the design! I will get to work right away. Do we have any idea when we can do a cake tasting? That is the last big milestone here.”

“I’m sorry.” She responds, sounding truly apologetic. “It’s...difficult between all of our busy schedules. I promise I will work to get something set up.”

Well, honestly that is all you can really ask for. You thank her for the information and her time. The two of you say your goodbyes, and hang up. For a moment you stare down at your notebook in surprise. This is not how you expected things to go. It’s early, and you have a lot to do today. You already can tell you will be partially distracted, your brain trying to figure out the specifics of the design.

You smile. In the end, finally, you have something you can work with.

------

1 Week Later

Ten minutes before closing (of course) , the bell above the door chimes. You can’t see who has walked in, your back to the door as you wipe down a table. You take a brief moment to close your eyes and breathe before turning around.

“Good evening!” Your customer service voice is normally on point -the stuff of legends really- but this time it becomes higher-pitched at the end.

Shouto Todoroki stands in your doorway. Again.

After the last meeting, you truly didn’t expect to see the man again until his wedding (maybe not even then). He didn’t seem to have any input in the cake decisions, nor did he seem to care about not having any input.

“Oh, hello again.” You smile, fighting to keep your voice steady as you shove the cloth in your apron pocket.

“Hello.” His mouth ticks up in a soft smile.

“Were we supposed to have a meeting today?” You ask, pulling your phone out of your pocket to look at the date. No, you don’t think there was a meeting scheduled. You see Todoroki shake his head in your peripheral vision. The hero politely kicks his shoes on the mat and takes a few more steps into the store. Heterochromatic eyes look around for a moment before catching on to something to your right.

“Then what can I do for you today?” You ask politely, following his line of vision to your display case. “Here for a snack?”

Those eyes look straight back at you. “I want to order another cake for the wedding.”

What?! Your heart plummets. Another cake?! This late?! When you’re already having trouble getting the specifics on the first one?!

Todoroki seems to notice your panicked expression, hands going up in a calming gesture. “Not a large cake, but one of those small specialized ones.”

Your panicked thoughts pause. Wait. “Do you mean… a groom's cake?” Please be a groom's cake. You can make a groom's cake.

He nods. “It’s a surprise.” A surprise? For Yaoyorozu?

“Uh, sure. I can do that.” You reply. “Hold on a sec.” Instead of going for your physical notebook in the back, you decide to simply bring up the note app on your phone. It’s not as professional, but it works in a pinch. “Is there a theme?”

“All Might.”

You blink slowly, mouth opening in surprise. All Might?!

The conversation with Yaoyorozu comes to the forefront of your mind. Is he...really just an All Might fanboy? That seems so wrong, somehow. You narrow your eyes at his blank expression, considering him.

“...you must really like him, huh?” You whisper.

Todoroki tilts his head a bit to the side, eyes narrowing in confusion. “He is a very good teacher.”

...is that enough to get an entire cake based off of the man?!

A long moment passes where you both stare at each other, neither seemingly sure of what to say. Eventually, as the professional you have to break the tension. “Well, okay. I can definitely do that. Groom's cakes tend to be relatively small and fun. What elements are you looking for?”

“I will leave that up to you.”

“Uh, are you sure?” That is a lot of power he is just handing you, especially when he seems to care so much about the retired number one hero.

“You are very highly recommended by the Uraraka’s.” Do the Uraraka’s know everybody?! “I don’t really...have an eye for design either way, and as the wedding gets closer I feel like I may become too busy.”

“That makes sense.” You mumble, writing down on your notebook app. Weddings are normally difficult things to plan, and you can’t imagine the amount of stuff necessary for a large hero one. If he wants you to design the smaller cake, you can do that. Your mind is already pulling together a few ideas. Similar to the large cake, you’ll need to make this one amazing. “What budget are you thinking?”

“Is 50,000¥ enough?”

Startled, you look up. 50,000¥ was a lot for a groom's cake. You want to tell him so but said groom is no longer in your line of vision. Glancing over to your right, you find the hero looking into your display case. He seems to care very little about the amount he just mentioned (ugh, rich people) so you simply say. “Um, yeah...that’s enough.”

You walk closer to the man, wondering why he seems so interested in the unsold pastries. “You are about to close, but there are so many left.” He looks up as you get closer. “How much longer will they last?”

Stopping to stand about a foot away from the man, you also look into the display and frown. “Oh...yeah, they are probably going to be thrown out, sadly.”

“Why?” At his soft voice, you glance over at the hero. Your eyes lock with two-toned ones.

“I try to sell the leftovers at half-off the next day, but they still barely sell.” You shrug. “I try to give as much as possible to the local shelters, but it isn’t always possible.” Looking outside at the hail coming down, you know you won't make it there today.

“Do you always make too much?”

“No.” You sigh, looking back at the sad, unbought pastries. “We used to be much busier, a year or so ago, but that chain bakery opened down the street and took a lot of my customers with it. Sometimes I still find myself baking as if it’s as busy as it was a year ago, just on habit really.”

There’s a long silence. Then, “I’ll buy them.”

Your eyes widen as your head swings towards the hero. “What, all of them?!”

“Yes.” He nods.

“No no no you don’t have to do that.” You find yourself saying, hands waving uselessly in front of you. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything, it’s okay. You don’t have to-”

Todoroki shakes his head. “No, I want to.”

He looks straight at you, eyes telling you that he won’t back down from this. And well, you’re really not sure why you are refusing him. Maybe it’s the worry that he thinks of you like a charity. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The next five or so minutes are spent with you packing up every last dessert and pastry into bags. Todoroki will need to use both arms to carry them, but the man doesn’t seem concerned. You are about to put the last rosemary goat cheese croissant away when he interrupts. “Wait, can you leave that one out?”

“Oh, sure.” You reply, placing it on a napkin as you close the paper bags on the counter with a piece of tape.

Todoroki reaches forward, his hand grabbing the croissant with one hand and bringing it to his mouth. One bite, and small parts of the flaky pastry flutter to the ground. You don’t mind, it makes you happy that the croissant lasts the entire day. Also, his wide-eyed expression is adorable.

He chews a bit more and swallows. “It’s good.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “You don’t have to say that, you know. I won't be offended or anything.” Okay, a bit of a lie. You adore those croissants.

“I’m not lying.” He insists, two-toned eyes staring straight at you. “It’s really good.”

His eyes are a bit more intense than normal. You look away, your cheeks warming a bit at the complimentary words. Shit, no. Married man. Nope. Not going there, even for a second. “Well, thank you.” You even your voice and continue packing the bags, keeping your eyes away from the man.

Once done, you carefully slide the bags across the counter towards him. “Here you go. Do you need help taking them anywhere?” Your professional voice is back.

Todoroki gives you a weird look, taking the bags in his hands. The croissant he was eating is mysteriously gone, although you notice a small crumb on his cheek. You look away. “No, I will be okay.” His deep voice echoes a bit in the small room.

After a brief moment, he walks towards the doorway. “Thank you for coming!” You call out, not moving from behind the counter. It’s safer here. “I’ll get started on the groom's cake right away! If I see you again, I’ll run my ideas by you.”

“I’ll come again.” Todoroki looks back with a small nod. “I hope you have a good night.”

The hero leaves as quickly as he appeared, disappearing out of sight only moments after he exits the bakery. If you had a chair behind you, you would sink down into it. As it is, you rest your hands against the counter in exhaustion.

These heroes were taking a lot out of you. Damn.

-------

2 Weeks Later

You stare up at the imposing building ahead of you, dread pooling in your stomach. The building itself was a hotel, tall and beautiful in architecture. That doesn’t matter too much though, you’re not exactly here for the hotel. No, you are here for the fancy-as-hell restaurant at the top: Eragawa.

Even the elevator to the restaurant is fancy. Luckily you are alone in it, so you are able to stare and judge your reflection in the mirrored walls without anyone seeing you. You frown, using your free hand to try and pat some of the flour off your shirt and organize your hair a bit. It doesn’t work, you already look extremely out of place.

It’s not like you wanted to be here at this fancy restaurant in your work slacks and shirt covered in various ingredients. The day had started normally, with you planning to spend your free time getting caught up on overdue paperwork. However, a text early in the morning ruined that plan.

[ Contact: C Manager ]

C Manager: Creati will meet you at Eragawa today at 7:30 p.m for the taste test.

Truthfully, you were starting to get a bit annoyed. The manager never asked your opinion, or even if you were free at the time they wanted you to be. They would always just make plans without you. You understood that Creati must have a really busy schedule right now, but damn . Still, it’s not like you could refuse. You had been waiting for this for a while now.

You: Okay. Thank you!

So, you had spent the rest of the day busier than ever. In between baking and managerial duties, you had to make a variety of cakes and icings in different flavours. Since you didn’t have any idea of where to start, you picked the most common flavours for her to try. It was... a lot to do on your own, and not for the first time did you wish you had some sort of assistant.

By the time you had everything ready to go, you had just enough time to make it to the restaurant. Knowing how impossible it had been trying to get this cake tasting appointment in the first place, you didn’t want to risk anything by being late. You had no time to shower or even change out of your work clothes. You simply grabbed the container of cakes, threw on your old coat, and ran out the door.

Now, though, you wonder if maybe it would have been better to be a bit late. The elevator door opens on the top floor, revealing a modern-looking restaurant in dark colours. You clutch at the handle of the container and look around. Wow. Nobody here looks like they would be caught dead in anything not a designer brand.

The hostess looks you over with a critical eye as you approach, but smiles and welcomes you nonetheless. “Good evening! Welcome to Eragawa, how can I help you today?”

“Um, hello.” You smile awkwardly back. Even the hostess is dressed nicer than you, damnit. “I’m with the Yaoyorozu group?”

The hostess blinks slowly at you. “Of course. Please wait here for a moment.” She turns to disappear into the back, another host taking up her post. You shuffle to the side of the waiting area and look around. The restaurant just screams ‘posh’ with its white tablecloth and candles and napkins folded into roses. You’d bet those glasses are made from actual crystal too. Damn.

The elevator door opens again as a group of well-dressed men and women walk in. You lean into the wall, trying to make yourself invisible to the other customers. It doesn’t work, and a woman in a fancy dress looks down her nose at you as she passes. The host takes them immediately to their table. Figures.

Eventually, the hostess you were talking to returns. “Please come this way.” You notice her smile is a bit larger this time as she leads you through the dining room. Quite a few patrons give you odd looks as you walk by, clearly not used to someone covered in powder walking through the area.

The hostess leads you past the dining room to a hallway in the back. You have just enough time to wonder if you are being taken out back like some sort of mafia movie before she stops at a door. She turns and opens it, bowing low as she gestures for you to go inside.

You walk through, eyes wide. Somehow, the private room is even more extravagant than the dining room. It’s dark and modern, like the rest of the restaurant, with giant windows overlooking the city. A beautiful crystal chandelier hangs from the tall ceiling. In the middle, two people sit at a round table. They look up as you enter.

Yaoyorozu’s eyes widen as she takes you in. You offer her a sheepish smile, before glancing at the other person. He looks at you with a carefully blank face, but you know he must be thinking something by the way those heterochromatic eyes flicker up and down over you.

Both of them are dressed beautifully. Yaoyorozu is in a gorgeous maroon dress and Todoroki in a light-blue button-down shirt and dark pants. They look properly dressed for this occasion.

Somehow, you feel even more embarrassed. Your cheeks warm a bit as you take a step into the room. “Um, hello.” You attempt a smile. “Sorry if I’m late, I just closed the bakery. Hello again, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki”

“Were you unable to get someone else to close the shop?” Yaoyorozu asks. If someone else were asking, you’d assume it was some sort of dig. Instead, she honestly just sounds concerned.

“I would if I could.” You reply, placing the cake carrier on the table. “Unfortunately, it’s just me.”

The two of them share a look that you can’t decipher. You just hope that you haven’t somehow embarrassed them. “Anyways,” You begin, trying to lighten the mood. “I come bearing the best gift of all, free cake!” Not much of a reaction there. Maybe a free cake to a rich person isn’t as great. Hm. “I’m actually glad that both of you could make it, this way we know for sure that the cake is up to your standards.”

Yaoyorozu looks at the carrier on the table. “Should we wait until after dinner?”

“Ah, I actually have food at home.” You lie, wringing your hands in your lap. There was no way you are staying here. It is too awkward. “If you like, I could leave it with you and head out? I won’t be able to stay though.”

“I see.” Todoroki replies, sharing another look with Yaoyorozu. “Then, shall we begin?”

The cake tasting goes...weirdly. While you have brought a wide variety of selection, the two come to a decision within the first three cakes. Their final decision doesn’t even come from one of your options but is rather a mix of a few they haven't tried yet. In the end, they decide on a vanilla cake with both a strawberry and matcha layer in the middle. They decide on it quickly, too.

“Do you want to try the samples I have?” You point to your cake options with strawberry and matcha. It’s a smart move. For all they know, you suck at these flavours.

However, Yaoyorozu simply shakes her head. “You are recommended by the Uraraka’s.” Her mouth ticks up as she looks over at Todoroki. “Plus, Shouto brought your desserts to the agency a few weeks ago. They were a resounding hit. I am confident in your abilities to pull this off.”

You turn to Todoroki, eyes wide. “You did?!”

He nods. Your mind blanks for a second at the implications. A bunch of heroes eating, and liking your desserts. That is really cool. Still, there is a very different matter at hand. “B-but those are pastries and desserts, not cakes.” You try to get them to see sense. The cakes are right in front of them, why are they messing about?

“It will be okay.” Yaoyorozu nods. “And, well, to be honest I do have another meeting I need to attend.”

Wait, what?

Didn’t they want to have dinner? Why is she leaving? You blink in confusion as the woman stands up. She looks over to Todoroki first, smiling, before turning to you.

“Good night you two.” She says kindly as she turns, walking out of the room with only the clicking of her heels audible. The door closes softly behind her. You stare at it for a moment, mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

“What just happened?” You turn back to look at Todoroki. The man is also wide-eyed, staring at the door. “Uh, are you okay?”

That seems to shake him out of it. Heterochromatic eyes shift to you. “Yes.” He nods. “We should also leave.” The hero stands up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. It’s the same long navy one you admired the first time you met him.

“Um, okay?” You reply, confused. Oh god, you hope you haven’t done something to somehow ruin their entire night. Dread curls in your stomach as you pack the cakes back up into the carrier

Todoroki leads the way back to the elevator. Yaoyorozu is no longer in sight, probably long gone by now. The staff seems as confused as you feel as you leave, sending odd looks to each other. Your stomach tightens a bit more.

It’s only when you reach the elevator that something clicks in your head. You were dining with two heroes, who both suddenly started acting weird. Really, there is only one explanation you can think of: there’s a villain nearby.

Your heart pounds heavily as you enter the elevator, clutching the carrier tighter in your hands. If there is a villain nearby, why didn’t the heroes evacuate the restaurant? Maybe it’s not safe. Maybe they have to wait for more heroes or a hero with the right quirk?

Despite having lived in Musutafu for most of your life, you’ve never been too close to a villain attack. You have always counted yourself lucky in that way, but maybe your luck is running out. You glance over to Todoroki at your side. The hero doesn’t look any particular way, that blank mask still on his face.

The two of you exit the elevator and head out of the hotel lobby. There is a distinct lack of heroes or police outside, which surprises you. Yaoyorozu must have called for someone, right?

Todoroki leads you across the street to the nearby sidewalk. “What do you need me to do?” You whisper as you finally come to a stop. “Do you want me to call the police?”

“The police?” He looks down at you, tilting his head slightly in confusion. Then his eyes narrow. “Is something wrong?”

Is something... not wrong? You look back up at the hotel, where everything seems completely normal. There is no screaming, no fighting, nothing. Oh.

As the panic subsides, another layer of embarrassment begins to creep in. Were you really freaking out over nothing??

“I-uh, thought that since we booked it out of there so fast, something had to be wrong.” You look away and try to explain, face warming. “Maybe like a villain or...something.”

“Ah.” He replies. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then...why did we leave?” You risk a glance back up. Todoroki is still looking down at you, expression once again soft.

“You were uncomfortable.” He replies simply.

You can’t even deny it. “So we left?”

“So we left.”

Well, damn. That’s sweet. “But...what about your dinner?”

He pauses, looking around. “Where do you want to go?"

“Uh, I have food-”

“Don't lie.” He interrupts, looking back at you. “You spent your whole day working and baking these cakes. You didn’t even have the time to change before coming here. There is no way you had time to make food.” That’s the most you’ve heard him say at once. Huh. And well, he’s right.

“I could have leftovers?” You attempt, knowing that you’ve been beaten. Your shoulders slump a bit as you consider arguing more. Who are you to be eating with a hero anyways? But...you are tired and hungry. All fight drains from your exhausted bones as you look up at him. You think about potential places as you look around. Honestly, you haven’t been to this part of town much (other than a few fancy dinner nights with your ex, but you don’t want to think about that). Todoroki waits patiently as you think.

“Well...I know one place.” You finally say. “But I’m not really sure if it’s your style.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I’m sure it's good if you like it.” Oh god. Why does he say those things? You hide your flushed face by walking away. The hero falls into step beside you, seemingly content to let you lead the way.

Walking with Todoroki at night is an ethereal experience. You know it will be a part of your dreams for years to come. Both of you are quiet, taking in the scenery as you walk. It’s cold through your thin jacket, and you shiver a bit at first. It’s a bit weird, but after a few moments, the temperature seems to rise. You put it down to scientific anomalies.

“There it is.” You point out a small stall half-hidden on the street. The two of you make your way over to the small. You keep one eye on the hero, ready to abort at the smallest sign of hesitation from the man. This is definitely not his usual scene.

When you are almost there, the man pauses. You turn, looking up to his face. “Todoroki?” The hero looks surprised, eyes wide and staring at the name of the stall.

“It’s perfect.” He responds, before starting to walk again. His pace is faster than normal, and you have to actually speed up to keep beside him.

As you finally make your way up to the soba stand, you call out. “Hey Haru!”

Haru -a middle-aged man with a bald head- looks up, smiling big when he sees you. “Hey! I haven’t seen ya sorry face ‘round here in a while. How’ve ya been? Come ‘ere to chat with this old man?” His eyes then catch on Todoroki. “Ah, I see.” His smile ticks up into a smirk.

Your own eyes widen. “No! It’s not what you think, Haru. We’re just here to eat.”

Haru doesn’t look like he believes you but lets it go. “Havin’ the usual then?” You nod. He turns to Todoroki. “And fer you?”

“Do you have cold soba?” The hero asks, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Hah! Do I have cold soba?” Haru replies sarcastically. “‘Course I do!”

“Haru makes the best soba on this side of the city.” You say, looking up at Todoroki. The hero looks down at you, and his expression makes you pause. His face is soft and kind, eyes glittering with delight. He smiles.

Your stomach flutters. You push it away and smile back.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto x y/n #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #j writes #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #reader-insert

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foxy-exy · 4 years

Text

Cat Magnet

loosely based on that falling for ur fuckbuddy bc ur cat likes them reddit post

"My fuckbuddy is kind to my cat and my cat likes him. I’m starting to have feelings for him because of that”

Andrew Minyard might be in too deep.

Sir Fat Cat McCatterson was not named by Andrew, because Andrew did not care to name a cat. He did not, in fact, care to own a cat. But apparently, his ground floor apartment simply came with a cat — one that hung around his back door until he opened it to smoke, that slowly began migrating into the apartment until she was inside of it more than she was out, that yelled at him until she owned a food bowl, a water bowl, an absurdly expensive cat tree, and a box of at least ten toys that she liked to chew on and absolutely destroy with her back legs.

(She would then bring those thoroughly killed toys to lay at Andrew’s feet and, once more, she would yell until he gave her a nod and a pat.)

Sir was named by an over-enthusiastic Nicky on his first visit, and she had no other name. The lack of an actual, non-Nicky-bequeathed name wasn’t an issue until Andrew found himself entertaining more than simply his cousin or his twin.

Usually, the cat avoided everyone, hiding in the bedroom if Aaron was visiting, barely peering out from the kitchen for Nicky, vanishing like a ghost if Andrew ever brought a stranger home.

Other visitors were rare — occasionally, a less-than-annoying coworker, a person who worked out next to him at the gym and didn’t chatter too much. Almost never hookups. Andrew generally kept those away from his place.

But also, Andrew generally kept his hookups to a one time occurrence, or an occasional repeat at a single location. Neil Josten was an exception because hooking up with him for a bit once in Eden Twilight’s bathroom simply…hadn’t been enough. And seeing him in weird hours of the morning/night in the 24 hour grocery store, bringing him back to his car for an hour before they parted ways…hadn’t been enough. Running into him in the library and pulling him into the farthest corner of the dusty shelves to make out against encyclopedias for an indeterminate amount of time definitely hadn’t been anywhere near enough.

So Neil Josten, The Exception, was not slated to enter Andrew’s apartment, but enter it he did, after a night of increasingly heated remarks exchanged at a back table of Eden’s, after enough time staring at each other as they sipped their drinks, surrounded by too many people. After Andrew had finally leaned in to whisper, “Follow me.”

When Andrew went to retrieve his coat, it was with Neil’s too-warm, staticky presence at his back, electrifying Andrew’s step into the parking lot. Neil’s own quiet footsteps did not fade from behind him, like Andrew had hoped. And when Andrew unlocked the car and turned around to raise an eyebrow at him, Neil Josten merely raised an eyebrow back and smiled.

“Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” Neil said, as he slid past Andrew towards the passenger side. As he had accepted being pulled back into a hard kiss for a little too long.

A short car ride later, Neil was being pulled into Andrew’s apartment in a similar manner, only, instead of moving with any kind of poise, Andrew stepped backward into his apartment, beginning to strip Neil’s jacket off and — promptly fell over Sir Fatcat McCatterson.

Sir howled like she was being killed and shot under the couch. And the traitor Neil Josten, standing in Andrew’s doorway, staring down at a sprawled-out Andrew, laughed.

“You’re a menace,” said Andrew, as Sir crept back out to sniff at his nose, and he wasn’t sure whether he meant her or his visitor. “She isn’t even my fucking cat.”

Neil looked around at the feathered catnip toys scattered around the living room and raised an eyebrow. “Cat sitting?”

“Uninvited occupant.” Andrew sat up and gently shoved away the white fluff ball, and curiously, impossibly, Neil went down on a knee to hold out a finger, and Sir ran to him like he was the one returning home.

“What’s your name?” Neil murmured in a soft voice that Andrew had never heard before, and abruptly, Andrew remembered that she did not in fact have a name he wanted to tell anyone, much less a…something. A fuckbuddy. An Exception.

But Sir was purring like a fucking motorboat, rubbing her face all over Neil’s hands, and Neil was smiling as she balanced herself on his knee to sniff his nose, too. And Andrew chewed back something budding in his chest at his cat being stupidly clingy to…whatever Neil was…and said, “Sir.”

“Sir?” Neil looked at him.

“’s her name,” Andrew muttered, then, quieter, “Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.”

Neil took the invitation Sir was giving him and buried his face into her back, but Andrew couldn’t miss the glimpse of lips pressed together over a grin, or the shaking of his shoulders.

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said, and ignored just how similar his tone sounded to Aaron’s sullen one. “My cousin did. She doesn’t have another name.”

“It’s a great name,” Neil said a little too earnestly to Sir as he emerged from her fluff, scratching behind her ears and sinking his fingers into her ruff. She purred agreeably and licked his chin.

“Shall I leave you alone with the cat?” Andrew shoved to his feet and tossed his keys towards the entryway table, shucking his coat off onto the back of the couch.

Neil looked up, rising to his feet to toe off his shoes with a smirk. “She’s not what I came for.”

“Good,” Andrew said, and tugged on his wrist to lead him towards the bedroom.

***

Neil Josten was supposed to be An Exception, not A Regularity. Not A New Staple of Andrew’s life. He wasn’t supposed to be a number in Andrew’s phone to text, wasn’t supposed to be an ‘are you free’ away from showing up on Andrew’s doorstep. And he wasn’t supposed to be a welcome, familiar sight on Andrew’s couch — Sir curled in his lap, her eyes slits, her approval of his presence loud enough to deafen.

Andrew definitely wasn’t supposed to carefully shift his greedy cat away across the couch so that he could slot himself between Neil’s legs to try and kiss away whatever the fuck had him feeling so warm at seeing Neil there.

“Who made you Cat God,” he murmured against Neil’s lips when Sir growled her displeasure at being unseated from Neil’s lap.

“Guess your cat just loves me,” Neil mumbled into his mouth, gathering fabric at Andrew’s shoulder with one hand as he pressed closer. Only…Neil’s other arm crept around Andrew’s body, but his hand was mysteriously absent as Sir’s angry meows cut off.

Andrew broke away and turned to find Neil’s other hand occupied with stroking Sir’s head.

“You really only use me for my cat, don’t you?”

“If it helps, you’re a welcome bonus,” Neil grinned, stretching to try and capture Andrew’s lips again.

Andrew pressed a hand over his mouth instead. “Get your own pet. Sir is mine.”

Neil raised a challenging eyebrow. “Last I heard, she was an uninvited occupant.”

And you weren’t supposed to look so right in my apartment, Andrew didn’t say, just sat back on his heels to pull his cat onto Neil’s chest where he could try to recapture her attention. It worked, kind of. She was half distracted by Neil’s hair being in grooming distance, but she let Andrew scratch under her chin and gave him an appeased look.

“If I got a cat…would you come with me to pick it out?”

Andrew stopped scratching.

“And figure out a name,” Neil mused, smoothing back Sir’s whiskers. “After all, we can’t have you completely showing them up with your name, Sir, can we?”

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said again, but he was buzzing.

Helping Neil choose a cat. So that was…acceptable to do. Naming it.

“What do you think, Andrew?”

And Neil was right there, peering up at him through thick fur, with a small smile.

“Yes,” Andrew said.

***

King Fluffkins did not last long in Neil’s apartment. He didn’t seem to like how empty it was — much like Neil, he much preferred taking up permanent occupancy in Andrew’s bed, next to Sir.

And Andrew…he’d picked up three strays, perhaps. Hadn’t asked for them, hadn’t planned for them. They’d moved into his life and his home in a whirl of moving boxes that emptied into cat-box-forts and armchairs that turned into cat-bed-holders and bookshelves that became cat-toy-hiding-places.

But Sir, King, Neil — those three strays were his.

you can find more aftg fics on my ao3!

#andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #tfc #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court fanfic #fanfic #kaystuff #kay fanfic

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fragilemxnds · 2 years

Photo

Clara Oswald : Fashion Moodboard

does your muse spend a lot of time on their outfit and appearance? how long do they spend getting ready in the morning?

i’d like to think clara spends a reasonable amount of time getting ready. she likes to make herself presentable, do her hair, apply her make-up that, sort of thing. she is definitely the type that showers in the morning too so on those days it definitely adds time. but she also is the type to plan her outfit for the next day, the night before.

does your muse consider the way they dress to be trendy? would other people agree?

i don’t think other people would call clara’s style trendy, but i think clara would consider her style trendy. not because she thinks she has great style, but because clara most definitely shops at like target and old navy and like large generic retail stores so if it’s ‘in-style’ enough to be at one of those stores then she considers that to be like... trendy. although, she does put her own spin on things, she has a whole drawer filled with collars she can add under shirts & sweaters. she is the collar queen.

how often do they buy new clothes? are they the type to keep a outfit for years or replace it after one wear?

not very often, clara buys clothes that will last for a reason. i feel like she got into the habit of also bulk buying clothes, aka if she likes one sweater she’ll get it in a bunch of different colors and that way if one got ruined while she was on another planet...she had another one back at home. and that thinking probably didn’t stop when she came to washington.

is your muse the type to accessorize? how much?

clara loves a good collar, and like i said before she has a drawer full of them. i think they add her own personal touch to her outfits and makes it feel like more of an expression of herself, and also kind of became her like ‘staple’ piece. but she does wear some small jewelry, with wear a hat every now and then. but she’s not one to go over the top or try anything crazy.

how much time do they spend on skin care/makeup/grooming?

clara loves a good bath & a book, but other than that she doesn’t spend too much time. she keeps her make up pretty minimal and light and at this point has a routine down for it that it probably doesn’t take her too long. she has a shower schedule that she sticks to very rigidly and probably has a box full of those $1 face masks that she’ll throw on from time to time to feel special.

if money and societal expectations were not a concern would your muse dress differently than they currently do? if so, how?

I don’t think clara’s style would change all that much either way.

would your muse wear the same outfit two days in a row if they knew they wouldn’t run into any of the same people?

depending on the outfit, yes. she has and doesn’t mind repeating outfits but she also is someone who would iron a sweater before wearing it because it has a crease from being folded or something. so if her clothes got wrinkled, she wouldn’t wear it again unless she could tidy them up a bit. but if it’s just like a sweatshirt & jeans she’ll re-wear those probably multiple days if she can stretch it out that long.

have they started dressing differently since arriving in washington? was the transition difficult? do they prefer the clothes here or back home? if your character is unaware feel free to answer as if they are aware.

I would say that clara has started dressing a bit differently but only because her wardrobe has gotten a revamp in the sense that what she used to wear was ‘in fashion’ in like 2015 and so now she is more so wearing outfits that are in fashion in this year. but i think this transition is happening slowly, because she still wears outfits that look like something you pinned on the first day of starting your pinterest in your peak swiftie tumblr girl phase.

#hwtask10 #[ muse ; clara ]#[ task ; clara ]

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brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

the 1 - t. jost

AN: Y’all wanted the folklore stuff back so, even though I never finished the series (i will, eventually), here’s one to start you off with :)

Word Count: 2325

Warnings: None.

But we were something don’t you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would’ve been you

You grew up in the house across the street from Tyson Jost, and for years he was always just the goofy kid who you would sometimes play street hockey with after school. You would make fun of his unruly brown curls, and he would in turn tell you that your goaltending skills were terrible. As you both got older, your friendship grew. You found yourselves sneaking into each other's rooms late at night, staying up talking about anything and everything with each other.

When you were 16, you shared an incredibly awkward first kiss. That kiss shortly became more kisses with each other. The kisses progressed into more firsts as you grew to realize that the goofy kid from across the street had become the most important person in your life. An epiphany that your families were not surprised about.

You slowly became even more inseparable than you already were, forming an attachment to one and other that most young teenagers feel when they think they’re in love. You spent weekends going to Tyson’s hockey games, wearing his jersey proudly; he spent weekdays after practices with you, content smiles almost always on both of your faces as you lounged around each other.

The thing about your first love is that it's an idea that is built up all around us, whether it’s in a coming of age film or a melodic song whose lyrics seem to fit so perfectly with your own story, or whether it’s the experience of someone around you. You grow up thinking about how one day you’re going to find the perfect person to share life with, and it doesn’t matter what anyone says otherwise. You grow up hearing that your first love will be wild, and crazy, and intense, but you’re taught to enjoy it while it lasts because it never does. You and Tyson were naive to think that you would be the exception.

“I love you.” You blurted out, eyes widening in shock at your admission. Your heart beating loudly in your chest, the words hanging loosely in the air as you waited for Tyson to reply. You were surprised as the three words left your mouth but you also thought that you knew how you felt, and there was something relieving about telling him. The weight of it was becoming too much, and maybe if Tyson wasn’t there yet, that would be okay.

“You do?” He looked at you, searching your eyes for any sense of regret over the three heavy words. When he didn’t find any, he pulled you close. Tyson wrapped his arms around you securely, instantly calming your nerves. He looked at you for a moment, wondering how he could feel so much for someone else, not truly understanding the implications of his feelings.

“I love you, too.” He sincerely spoke, leaning in to kiss you softly.

He didn’t understand at the time that when you’re seventeen, the intensity you feel for someone isn’t usually built for longevity. Perhaps if either of you understood the evanescence of a first love, the three words wouldn’t have been spoken at all.

-------

The streets of downtown St. Albert were covered in a thick blanket of snow, white twinkly lights on the various trees, a glistening contrast to the dark wintery sky. You hadn’t been back for Christmas in two years. When you moved to Vancouver for a fresh start after the breakup, your parents always came to you for the holidays, making the argument that spending them in rainy Vancouver was a lot better than snowy St. Albert. You knew that it wasn’t the lack of snow, but it was them trying to spare you from reliving the last Christmas that you hadn’t been able to shake.

“I think it’s just time.” Tyson smiled sadly at you, feeling his own heart break as he spoke.

Your eyes glassed over as you nodded in agreement. You felt like you were frantically trying to save your heart before it dropped to the floor, shattered and ruined. You knew that he was right, the distance simply not working anymore, no matter how hard you both wanted it to.

He reached out, his thumb grazing over your cheek to wipe the tears that were now falling. The two of you sitting there in silence, as you both desperately tried to put off the finality of the conversation as long as possible. Knowing you were losing Tyson was like trying to save yourself from drowning, each gasping breath pulling your further and further down beneath the surface.

“I wish it was different.” He whispered, wiping his own eyes as he watched you turn to leave. Fresh snow falling around the two of you as you stood on his balcony, Christmas lights being the only source of light around you.

“Me too.” You nodded in agreement, taking one final look at him before turning back inside, making your way out of the house like you had done so many times before, this time only to most likely never come back.

-------

You glanced at the bakery, seeing the lights in the back illuminated, a couple of employees working on what you could only assume were tomorrow’s pastries. You made note how everything looked just the same, as if no time had passed at all. A realization of just how homesick you had been the last few years while you’d been away.

For a long time you avoided St. Albert, the memories burning a hole softly in your heart, and the thought of coming back filled the hole with uneasiness at the idea of being somewhere that had so many memories of someone who meant so much for a time. You were now years removed from the breakup and you finally felt a new perspective. You were able to think of home without feeling melancholic about Tyson. When you truly allowed yourself to think about it, you missed Christmas in St. Albert. It was home, and that was exactly what you needed now.

You continued walking down the street, carefully stepping to avoid the slick patches in the sidewalk. You shivered a bit and rubbed your gloved hands together, pulling your arms closer to your body, spotting the general store just a few feet ahead. You walked into the store, instantly feeling the warmth from the heaters on your face. You looked around, heading straight to the wine aisle to pick up what your mom had asked you to get for Christmas Eve.

You found your way through the aisles with ease, everything in the same spots they had been in the last time you were there. A wave of nostalgia passed through you as you made your way through the store. You thought back to the summers you and Tyson spent together, always coming to the general store for what he called “the absolute lake day essential pack” each time you planned on going out to the lake.

You smiled to yourself as you passed by the various snacks and drinks. Tyson invading your thoughts once more.

“Tyson, we’re going to be gone for a few hours. I think you might be overdoing it.” You laughed as he tossed item after item into the shopping cart.

“I am truly offended. Babe, this is the absolute lake day essential pack. No item can be forgotten.” He wrapped an arm around you and placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

The lake day essential pack became a tradition for every lake trip, even though you never actually finished everything that you bought. Instead, spending most of the day in the water, laughing with each other.

-------

You didn’t know that he was back in town, the two of you losing touch years ago. Your thoughts used to be consumed with how it would feel to see him again. By all definitions of the term, Tyson was your first love. The kind of fleeting, youthful, wreckless, wild love that you grasped onto for as long as you could. There was a time when you thought he was the one, that all of the obstacles you would have to face to be together would work out in the end. You spent those years imagining what it would be like to marry him, picturing how you’d feel walking down the aisle, seeing him there.

“Do you think it’ll be this beautiful when we get married?” Tyson squeezed your hand, looking at you softly. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, looking toward the archway where in just a few moments your cousin would be getting married. White lilies and pastel pink dahlias framing the light stained wooden archway.

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them. His hand holding yours firmly. You didn’t get the chance to answer his question, instead hearing the beginnings of the wedding march. As you watched your cousin walk down the aisle, you couldn’t help but make subtle glances at the groom. He was watching your cousin, eyes watering as he took in her beauty. You subconsciously leaned into Tyson more and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, but you knew that one day that would be him up there, waiting for you.

--------

You walked out of the general store and braced yourself for the cold once more, reasoning with yourself that it was only a few blocks to your parents house and once you were there you could spend the rest of the evening watching old Christmas movies and sipping on the extra wine you just bought.

You started making your way back down the path you came in from, taking in your surroundings as you passed by the various shops. You rounded the corner, passing by the old diner. You thought back to all of the times you and Tyson would be found there, late at night in the same corner booth you always sat in, the faux leather seats probably even more frayed with holes than they were all those years ago.

“Who’s going to come sit in this ugly booth with me now that you’re leaving?” You asked, feeling the weight of Tyson leaving the following day for his first training camp in Colorado. You were incredibly proud of him for accomplishing his dream, but that didn’t stop the worries of what the future would hold for the two of you now that the reality of it all was setting in.

Tyson smiled sadly at you, wishing he could stop the hurt that he was causing. His whole life he had dreamed of playing in the NHL, spending years training and practicing. He didn’t expect to be sad about leaving St. Albert, until he fell in love with you.

“It’s not forever, I’ll be back for Christmas.” He said, feeling certain in that moment that his words were true, that he would be back for Christmas with you. If only he knew that the next time he was home, your relationship would have fallen apart in just a matter of months, the young love forced to confront the truth that what you had wasn’t going to be the same after this moment.

---------

You could see him clearly, standing outside the diner the two of you once called “your place.” He was laughing wholeheartedly at what the beautiful girl he was with was saying, his arm wrapped loosely around her as they talked. Time felt like it was slowing down, and you were stuck in a moment, feeling something about your relationship with him that you didn’t realize you needed. You felt an eerie sense of calm, knowing that he was happy. That was all you ever wanted for him, and while it used to hurt knowing it wouldn’t be with you, you were looking at him and the past so clearly. Tyson wasn’t meant to be your forever, and that was okay. He was a memory, a moment in time, that you could look back on adoringly.

You had been living in Vancouver for just under a year, finally finding a core group of friends and settling into your new life. The wounds from your breakup still felt fresh, and you knew Tyson was out in Colorado, having adventures on his own.

You desperately wanted to move on, find your own place in the world without waking up everyday, mind racing with thoughts of him. Your friends tried to help you move on, even going as far as to set you up with various other boys. You went on a few dates here and there, never feeling like you could fully open up to someone the way you had with Tyson.

You compared every boy you ever met to Tyson, he was a country away but he still had a grasp on your heart that you didn’t know how to get back. You often wondered if he thought of you still. Maybe if you knew that he did, and if one of you made an attempt at reconciliation, things would turn out dramatically different for you both.

Tyson turned, spotting you from where he was standing. He smiled, nodding slightly at you before turning back to the woman he was with. His expression was comforting, familiar and kind. You knew in that moment he experienced the same feelings you just had, recognizing the slight realization he had as he looked at you briefly. You were strangers who happened to love a past version of each other.

But that’s the thing about a first love right? The transitory feeling, ignoring just how naive you were to think it would last. If one thing had been different, things might have been different today. It could have been you by his side.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost story #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Celebration Day

Summary: Bucky and the Reader's long-awaited wedding day is just around the corner. The only trouble is, with Pepper Potts serving as wedding planner, it's a little more elaborate than either of them had imagined. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands and create your perfect out of what's around you.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced!Reader

(Reader sees bits and pieces of the future at random, understands all languages, and is also a super soldier)

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Author's note: As always, the reader's name is never mentioned so that this can be read as a self-insert, but when I write this character, I imagine her as a Violet. Also, the song at the end of the fic can be anything you like, but I wrote it with Unforgettable by Nat King Cole in mind.

*************************************************

“Whoa.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but as he takes in the huge stone building that, according to Pepper, they’ll be getting married at in two weeks’ time, he’s almost certain his eyes have gone as big as his fiancee’s. What the actual fuck? They could fit a small army inside this place.

“Is this the right place?” He’s half-way hoping she’ll say no, it was a big joke, but with a grimace, she nods.

“That is, if she sent us the right address. If not, it’s pretty remote here….” She trails off, biting at her lip.

“Does Pepper know that between the two of us, we can count the number of people we call friends on our fingers-”

“And the ones we’d actually want around to watch us make a life-long commitment to each other is even smaller? Yeah, I mentioned it.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Despite having been through some of the most intense situations known to man (fighting Thanos, anyone?), as he pulls the door closed behind him, his palm starts to sweat. Logically, he knew giving Pepper the go ahead to plan as she saw fit without any input from either of them (she did insist on footing the bill after all, so being particular would be ungrateful) meant that things would get more elaborate than he’d feel comfortable with, but this is completely out of hand.

“I’m starting to think that waiting until two weeks before the day of to take a look at things may have been a mistake.”

He chooses not to add his two cents to that (a fucking huge one, on both their parts). It turns out to be the right decision because, a huge bouquet of… are those lilies… in her hands, Pepper emerges from a side door.

“Good, you both found the place.” Yeah, it was kinda hard to miss. It’s a literal castle! “Isn’t it just beautiful?” The high-powered executive is gushing in a way that’s usually reserved for the first time seeing a great work of nature, like the Grand Canyon or possibly Niagara Falls. Not… whatever the hell this is.

“It’s very eye-catching.” The grip on his hand increases to where it’s almost painful, and he glances over at her. “Right?” In other words, don’t just stand there. Say something.

“Yeah. It’s…” Huge. Kind of reminds him of a medieval palace that would have a secret torture chamber down bellow. Decadent, but not in the “This is really great chocolate cake” kind of way. “...really something.” If that look is anything to judge from, he’s definitely in the dog house tonight… which, oddly enough, means the dog will probably spend the night cuddled up to her on his side of the bed.

Fortunately, Pepper seems not to have noticed that he’s less than enthusiastic about her choice of venue (either that, or she’s assumed that ‘vaguely unsociable’ is just his natural state), because she beams at the woman on his arm.

“Of course, it’ll look much different the day of. There will be floral arrangements in every window and…” She goes on, but he’s stopped listening, too busy trying to calculate how many people can fit in this auditorium alone.

“Any questions?” Pepper peers between both of them. He should really read the room and say no thanks, it all sounds great, but he actually is wondering about something.

“Yeah, I have one. What’s the final tally on the guest list looking like?”

“We’re standing at around 500.” 500… does he even know that many people? Scratch that; between the two of them, do THEY know that many people?

“Wow.” He glances at the woman next to him. Yeah, that’s a fake smile if he’s ever seen one. “That’s quite a turn-out.”

Pepper says something else, but he doesn’t hear it past the buzzing in his ears. It’s only when he feels a tug on his hand that he realizes they’re supposed to follow Stark’s widow out of the room.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, she turns to him, wearing a worried frown. “You okay there, Buck?”

He nods. “Yeah, but is it too late to go with your idea? Just go to the courthouse and sign a paper?”

She sighs, a rueful smile on her face. “I think that ship has sailed. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She deserves the best, and if Pepper has anything to do with it, this wedding will be just that. He can deal with it. It’s just for a few hours, after all.

“Does this mean I get to pull out the ‘I told you so’?” It’s a joke, meant to lighten the mood. He knows this, so he takes the bait.

“Yeah, Doll. You get a free pass.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“How’s it coming?” She’s honestly not sure how to answer Shuri’s question. In traditional “Say Yes To The Dress” fashion, her female friends are all gathered outside the dressing room doors waiting for her to step out in the gown Pepper had designed specifically for her. The only trouble is, she’s never felt more out-of-place in her life.

It’s a beautiful dress, highlighting every single positive aspect of her body. The shade of ivory works well with her skin tone, and the material is cool against her skin. She looks exactly like a picture from a bridal magazine with her hair still styled from a trial run of that and makeup earlier today. Perfect… but not like herself.

Shaking her head, she tells herself she’s just not used to looking so formal, and pushes open the door.

Wanda, Morgan, Nakia and Shuri make appropriate noises of approval as she steps into the room. Pepper is smiling, a hand pressed to her mouth and tears rolling down her face. Only Okoye looks less than pleased.

“You look so fierce.” Shuri informs her, rushing forward to adjust her train.

“A total knockout.” Nakia nods.

“You look like a doll!” She chuckles at the four-year-old’s exclamation. It’s very sweet, probably the best compliment she’s ever gotten. Plus, she’s starting to feel like a doll.

“Okoye?” The general eyes her up and down, expression unchanging.

“How are you planning to fight in that dress?”

Wanda and Pepper freeze, unsure of how to react, but Nakia laughs and Shuri rolls her eyes.

“It’s her wedding day, General. She isn’t fighting anyone.” Shuri exclaims between giggles.

“This is an American wedding. The most physical thing they do is dance.” Nakia adds.

“Until the wedding night, that is.” And now she’s trying not to snicker at the princess’s innuendo.

The rest of the appointment is a blur. A tailor checks and rechecks the measurements, pinning up whatever he deems too long or large, letting out anything too constricting. Girl talk ensues and the champagne flows. By the time they go their separate ways, each with a bridesmaid’s (or in Morgan’s case, flower girl) dress in their possession, she’s the only one who’s not at least slightly buzzed.

She should really head home. It’s late in the afternoon, and she’s still got papers to grade. However, she finds herself driving in the opposite direction of where she lives. After today, she needs some time to herself, away from anyone else and the possibility of unintentionally seeing their future.

At a red light, she stops and dictates a voice-to-text message, informing Barnes that, “It’s going to be a late one. Stopping by a few places on the way home. Let me know if you want me to pick up something.” The reply comes thirty seconds later. “Take your time. Text me when you’re on your way. Stay safe.” This wedding may not be exactly what she’d pick for herself, but the man she gets to spend the rest of her life alongside certainly is.

She drives aimlessly for a while, no destination in mind. Finally, she decides that while she’s out, she may as well kill two birds with one stone. Pepper mentioned that they’re still lacking the “something old” from ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue’. She considered joking that the groom is over a century old so they’ve got that covered, but as an antique store appears on her right, she decides to go in and see if anything catches her eye.

A bell rings as soon as she steps inside, and although she can’t see anyone, a voice calls out from the center of the store to, “Shout if you need anything.” It’s a hodgepodge of various items, most in disrepair, all covered in a blanket of dust. She comes across a coin in the display counter minted in 1917 and is about to ask if she can get a closer look at it (there’s something about a sixpence in a shoe if she’s remembering correctly), but that’s when she sees it.

The wedding dress is clearly vintage, more than likely an original. As she takes a closer look at the tag, she sees that it reads “hand sewn, 1942”. The price is marked $25 dollars, a good deal even if it were in disrepair. Instead, she can’t find a thing wrong with it. It’s almost as if someone unearthed this in the back of a closet, perfectly preserved, and thought, “Here’s a way to make a quick buck.” For a moment, she allows herself to dream of how she’d look in it, but as the salesperson appears, she pushes that daydream to the side.

“May I see the nickel from 1917, please?”

With one last longing look at the dress, she pays for her purchase, and leaves the store behind.

___________________________________________________________________________________

It’s not unusual for him to have nightmares. Most times, he can tell that what’s going on around him is a dream, not real life, and wake himself up. Not tonight, however. It all feels too real, not one of his usual dreamscapes, so that he’s stuck reliving a scene from earlier in the day.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Coming out of the pet store on his way home with a few bags of dog food (not to mention more toys than the mutt really needs because, despite himself, he’s a sucker for their tripod of a dog), he got recognized. There was the flash of a picture being taken to his right, and when he turned, a man holding a smartphone asked, “Hey, you’re that Winter Solder guy, aren’t you?” In reality, he pretended not to have heard and kept walking, and that was the end of it. In his dream, he’s driven all the way home, only to be cornered as he’s stepping out of his car and activated by HYDRA.

“Longing-”

“Stop.”

“-rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak-”

“Not again. Please.”

“-furnace. Nine. Benign-” As the HYDRA agent speaks, he realizes that she’s in the room with him. Oh no.

“Get out of here! Run!” He tries to warn her, but she just smiles at him, and although he can’t hear what she’s saying, he can see her lips forming the words, “I love you.”

“-One. Freight Car.”

“No!” He bolts upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. It’s only when the chill of the night air makes him shiver that he realizes it was just a dream.

“Whoa.” He’s still trying to catch his breath when he feels her hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay, Bucky. Take some deep breaths. That’s it.” He used to be embarrassed whenever this would happen, especially if he managed to wake her up in the process. But since Thanos, all of that has gone by the wayside, and it’s a common occurrence for her to wake up screaming and flailing also.

Practice makes perfect, so it’s only a few moments before his breathing returns to normal and he feels his heart regain it’s rhythm. He turns to her to apologize, but stops short.

“You were already awake.” She nods.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. My mind’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?” As he asks it, he settled back into bed, turning on his side to face her.

“Are we just gonna ignore that you had a nightmare?” He nods

“For now, yeah. It’s still too fresh.” A look of understanding settles on her face. He’s eternally grateful that she’s not one to push him into talking before he’s ready.

“I can’t stop thinking about the fucking wedding.” He snickers at her profanity. “Five hundred people, Buck. Five hundred! I don’t even know that many people, much less like them.” It’s like she’s read his mind.

“All of them staring at us…” She shudders. “It’s silly, but what if I have a vision and instead of saying “I Do” I say, ‘Watch your head!’ or something else just as stupid?”

“Then you’ll be doing better than me.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “I keep having this recurring dream that we get around to the vows and I forget how to talk. Then I look down and realize I’m not wearing pants.” That reminds him… “You still haven’t told me how trying on the dress went.”

She sighs.

“It was an experience.” That can’t be good.

“Didn’t it fit?”

“Oh, it fit.” She nods. “Like a glove.” Then what’s the problem? “It’s a beautiful dress, and I really appreciate all the effort Pepper put into it, but…” Oh. Now he thinks he understands.

“It’s not quite what you imagined.” It’s not a question, but she nods.

“No, but then again, I never imagined my wedding dress because I never imagined getting married.”

“But you still want to, right?” He shouldn’t ask that, but there’s a niggling fear at the back of his mind that she’s realized she doesn’t want to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives.

“Of course I do.” They’re facing each other, crumpled sheets between then, and she reaches out to caress his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Barnes, nightmare wedding or not.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the only sound the air vents circulating a cool breeze through the bedroom. Then she asks,

“Did you ever imagine it? A wedding or getting married?” It’s not something he’d easily admit to most people, but he nods.

“Yeah, I did. Back before the war.”

“Tell me about it.” She closes her eyes, and he can’t help but feel a slight wave of excitement that he gets to see her like this forever.

“It wasn’t like I spent a lot of time daydreaming about it, but…” It was just one of those natural things, a given in life; you get a job, find a girl, get married, and settle down to have a houseful of kids. When the war started, he saw so many of his friends go ahead and tie the knot with their girls before they shipped out, and he took it for granted that one day, he’d do the same thing.

“I guess I figured on having Steve there, standing up with me.” Of course, now Steve is an old man, physically as well as chronologically. He’ll be there of course. Even serve as the best man. However, it looks a little different than he imagined. “It’d probably be small, because we weren’t dirt poor, but we weren’t exactly rich either. Friends and family.” She nods, eyelids still lowered. “Didn’t put much thought into decorations or clothes, but I imagined walking out with her on my arm, whoever the girl ended up being-” Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn’t have imagined a woman as incredible as this. “-and dancing together after it, then heading back to our house, just the two of us.”

“It sounds-” She yawns, and he knows she’s nearly asleep. “-perfect.”

It does to him too, but over time, things change. Even if it sounds nice, a 1940’s shindig probably wouldn’t cut it in today’s busy world with it’s easy access to perfection. Still, a huge chunk of him wishes he could just steal her away and make their promises to each other in private. That makes him wonder: what did it look like when Steve and Peggy got hitched? He supposes he can ask soon enough. Steve’s arriving tomorrow after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You need any help in there?” Steve thinks about shooting back that he may be old (well, ancient is probably more accurate at this stage) but he can still manage to put on his pants without help, thanks. Instead he just answers,

“Nope. Just giving you a few extra minutes to primp before I come out and embarrass you by pulling off this suit better than you do.” As he pulls on his jacket, he hears Bucky laugh.

“Whatever you say, punk.”

He’s lived a full life, made plenty of other friends. However, he still hasn’t clicked the same way he does with the jerk from Brooklyn, even if said jerk is now seventy years younger than him.

“Alright, I’m done making myself pretty. Get out here, old man.” Chuckling, he pushes open the changing room door and joins Sam and Bucky.

“I don’t know what you two are bragging about.” Sam grins and straightens his tie. “Clearly I’m the best looking person here even without being hopped up on super soldier mojo.”

Bucky fakes a frown and elbows Sam.

“Remind me again why you’re invited to my wedding?”

“Because the bride likes me.”

“No accounting for taste.”

“Clearly, since she’s marrying you.”

Even though it’s obviously a joke, Steve internally winces. He’s already half-way expecting to talk Bucky down off the ledge at least three times in the next two days, convince him that yes you you are good enough for this girl, no I don’t think she’s making a mistake entrusting her future to you. Back in the day, he was the shy one with a lack of self-confidence. After everything HYDRA did, it’s his best friend who believes he’s unworthy of a second chance at life.

However, throughout most of the morning, there’s absolutely no sign of the impending breakdown. Steve’s nearly convinced that he’s guessed wrong, that there won’t be any fires to put out when, on the drive back to his hotel room, it happens.

“Can I ask you something?” He can’t really read his best friend’s facial expression since the other man is driving, facing straight ahead, but if the tension in body language is anything to judge from, this isn’t going to be a casual conversation.

“Sure.”

“Were you nervous before you and Peggy tied the knot?”

He nods.

“More like scared shitless.” It wasn’t the fact that, for the rest of their lives, they would be tied together, not just emotionally but legally as well. If anything, he was nearly giddy with excitement over that part. “All those people with their eyes on you and your dearly beloved? Don’t tell anyone, but five minutes before I had to be in place, I was in the bathroom losing my lunch.” Bucky snickers, and even he chuckles at the memory. “But I got through it because it was her. She was what I wanted at the end of the day. I would’ve gone through with it in front of a million people or in a broom closet. It didn’t matter. Everything except Peg was just trappings.”

Neither of them say anything else for the rest of the trip. On Steve’s part, he’s mentally reliving the day he married Peggy Carter through his memories. In fact, he’s so busy reminiscing that he doesn’t realize the car has stopped moving and they’re parked outside the hotel until his name is called for what must be at least the third time.

“Sorry.” He smiles apologetically. “It’s just a side affect of getting old: you spend a lot of time stuck in the past and forget about the present.”

“It’s okay.”

He reaches to open his door, but before he can-

“Do you have anything going this afternoon? Maybe need to take a nap or something?” This time, he doesn’t swallow down the sarcastic comment that springs to mind.

“Yeah, right after I finish rubbing liniment on my joints, I’m gonna go down to the old folks’ home and play bingo, maybe yell at some kids to get off my lawn. That is, unless you have something else in mind.”

“Well, I was gonna go interrupt my girl’s day and ask her if she’d go down to the courthouse and elope with me since we’re both dreading the trappings, but it sounds like you’re busy, so…”

It’ll smart later, but he tags the back of his best friend’s head.

“Go get your girl, jerk. Just tell me when and where to meet you.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a nap?”

“Respect your elders!”

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s elbow deep in clothing (when the hell did they acquire that many tshirts between them), attempting to make a dent in the number of things they still have to pack before next week’s move-in date, when she hears the apartment door open. That’s weird. He’s not supposed to be home until later in the day. It’s unnecessary, a reflex at this point, but she feels for the hidden knife she still keeps on her at nearly all times. It’s most likely not an intruder, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

The funny thing about living with someone is that the little things about them, details you never forced yourself to pay attention to, become ingrained in your memory without you realizing it. In this case, she recognizes the speed and heaviness of the footfalls, and that’s what makes her lower her guard.

“In the bedroom.” He hasn’t asked, but it’ll save him from looking through each room that comes before this one. And, if he’s home this early, they’ll probably have something to discuss.

“Hey.”

As she repeats the greeting back to him, she studies his expression. A smile, small but genuine. Also… nervous? That’s strange. She’s gotten good at reading the tiny tells that are still there behind the perfect, unflappable mask, but usually it takes her a lot longer to crack the code. Something major is going on.

“How’s the packing coming?” As he asks, he picks up a shirt (one of his, although it’s not folded) and tosses it into a box.

“It’s coming along fine. Do you want to talk about it some more or dive into why you’re home so early?”

“That depends. Do you already know what I’m gonna say?”

She shakes her head. No visions so far, at least not about this.

“Then I guess I’d better quit stalling.” That doesn’t sound good. “So, about the wedding.” For a moment, she’s worried he’s calling it off, that he’s decided he’d rather not spend the rest of his life with her. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have mentioned it last night when they were both lying there unable to sleep, discussing things? “Is it safe to say we’re both dreading it? Not what comes after, but the part where five hundred of our closest friends stare at us?”

Her lips curl into a smirk.

“You could say that.”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe there’s a way to avoid it and still get the job done. Something more like what we talked about last night. You were awake for that part, right?”

Barely. In fact, she remembers her final thought before drifting off being, “I wish we could do things that way.” Still…

“Pepper’s put so much effort in. People are traveling, have already made arrangements-”

“So we still show up on Saturday, but behind the scenes, we would’ve already made things official. Maybe gone to the courthouse like you wanted to, just us and Steve? One other person if you had anyone in mind, since there need to be two witnesses?” It’s an appealing idea. The marriage license is still sitting on the kitchen table, waiting for them to sign on the day of. In theory, all they need to do is make an appointment and show up with their two witnesses. In practice…

“Hypothetically speaking, when would we be doing this?” Immediately, the small sign of nervousness melts from his face.

“This afternoon at four thirty, since that’s the only time before Saturday they had available. Hypothetically.”

She pretends to think about it, but can’t hide the smile that sneaks across her face.

“Then it’s a yes.” Now they’re both smiling like idiots. Taking his offered hand, she rights herself and circles her arms around his neck.

“So we’re really doing this, huh?” His arms wrap around her, and now they’re so close, she can feel his heart beating.

“Looks that way.” She leans up, closing the gap between them and presses her lips against his.

It’s tempting to just stand there, making out like teenagers, but eventually, she has to back away. It’s comical how startled he looks (that and slightly flustered).

“I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“What?”

She snickers. “I don’t know much about weddings, but I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to see me ahead of time. Bad luck and all.”

“Wouldn’t want to risk that.” With one last peck, he lets her go. “Do you want me to head out and give you the apartment, or-”

“No, you stay. I actually have some errands to run.” Not saying another word (otherwise, she’ll end up gushing about how she can’t to start their life together), she grabs her keys from the nightstand and heads towards the door.

Once she’s in the car, a memory from the other day of that 1940s wedding dress sitting in an antique store comes back to her. There wasn’t a size on the label, and the material might be too fragile for her to even get it on her body. But it was so… perfect. It’s decided: she’s going in search of it. If it fits her, yay! If it doesn’t work out, she’s still got enough time to stop in at a department store and purchase something else.

The whole thing is slightly absurd. She peals into the antique store and, after eyeballing the dress, purchases it without so much as trying it on. Then, stopping at a fast food place, she undresses in a bathroom stall and pulls on the dress. The material is slightly musty from all the years of disuse, but it goes on easily. As she peers at herself in the bathroom mirror, a giggle rises from deep inside her. For the first time in this whole process, she feels like a bride.

She’s still dressed in the vintage white gown when she steps inside the first florist’s shop she comes across The woman behind the counter gives her a strange look, but doesn’t ask any questions as she sells her the simple bouquet of violets with a few pieces of greenery. She knows she must look odd, but she can’t bring herself to care. She’s flying too high. Maybe that’s the reason why, as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup, still in her car, she tucks a few of the flowers into her hair. There. That’s better.

She spots his car in the parking lot, so she knows he’s already there. That’s when the nerves hit her. This is it. They’re actually doing this. After today they won’t just be to people sharing an apartment (among other things); they’ll be husband and wife. She’s ready. God, is she ready. But the enormity of it is intimidating. What if she’s not a good wife? What if he’s expecting her to be the perfect domestic goddess (that’s absurd, she knows, but rationality just flew out the window)? Or on a more practical level, what if he doesn’t like how she looks? There’s only one way to find out. Slowly, hands shaking, she pulls open the courthouse door.

Steve’s waiting for her just inside the building. Apparently, he takes traditions very seriously, because when she asks where Bucky is, he just shakes his head. “He’s here, but you’re not gonna see him until you’re in the room, about to sign the paperwork.” She’s not going to fight it (after all, she’s the one who brought up separating in the first place), but she does still have a question.

“Steve, can I ask you for a massive favor?”

“Sure.” Here it goes.

“I know there’s not a real aisle, but would you walk me inside?” He may be seventy years older than he was when she met him, but the smile is still the same.

“Yeah. I’d be honored to do it.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky’s not sure what the connection is between being so nervous you’re ready to climb the walls and the urge to pace, but regardless, that’s what he’s doing. The clock in the office where he’ll be exchanging vows with the woman he loves more than he ever thought was possible reads four twenty-nine. One minute left, give or take. One minute, and then the rest of his life begins.

The seconds hand seems to move incredibly slowly, but finally, it reaches it’s destination. On cue, the door opens, and all the breath leaves his lungs. Here she is.

It’s not the way he’d imagined it as a kid. Steve’s not at his side. He’s considerably older, rougher around the edges. They’re in a courthouse instead of a church. But as a kid, he also didn’t imagine anything that can compare to her.

It goes without saying that she’s beautiful; that’s always the case. But all the old stories are true: there’s something about seeing her in a white dress walking towards him just before they promise to love, honor, and cherish each other for the rest of their lives that makes her shine like never before. She’s not just beautiful. She’s brilliant.

“Hey.” Right. He need to say something.

“Hey. You made it.”

She chuckles and pushes back a stray tendril.

“Yeah, well I had a date I was really excited for, so I rearranged my schedule.”

Before he can say anything else (he’s not sure what, because frankly, all thoughts except “I love you” have disappeared), the door opens and a man in a business suit sticks his head out.

“Is everyone here?”

He looks at her for confirmation.

“Everyone that needs to be.”

“Then right this way.”

He’s not aware of much that is said during the ceremony after they join hands, too busy memorizing what she looks like so he’ll never forget. This is definitely one of those moments you want to carry with you the rest of your life.

They stick to the standard vows. He takes her to be his lawfully wedded wife to have and hold from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish ‘til death do them part, and vise versa. As he slips the ring on her finger, he catches her eye and mouths a silent, “I love you.”, which she repeats back as she slides on his wedding band.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” That’s it. This is real. They’re married. “You may kiss the bride.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

After the paperwork is signed, they agree to go and have dinner. Steve’s come all this way, and something seems right about celebrating with his oldest friend. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to make a reservation so, still dressed in their formal clothes, they slide into a corner booth at a local diner. Nothing important is said; it’s mostly laughter and inside jokes between a group of friends. By seven o’clock, he’s dropped Steve off at his hotel and is on his way back home.

The apartment is mostly packed up at this point. The only things left are their clothes, a few kitchen and bathroom essentials, and their bed. Even the record player she gave him as a birthday gift has been shipped off to the townhouse they’ll officially move into sometime next week. But, he thinks to himself as he lets himself in, the great thing about going to sleep in 1945 and waking up in the 2000s is that while his taste in music may not have evolved by much, technology has. Which means-

“Hey, stranger.” She’s still wearing the dress, their dog sitting next to her on the bed with his head in her lap. It would be a crime to let that go to waste.

“Come here.” He motions for her to join him, and as soon as she stands, starts scrolling through is phone.

“What are you doing?” The confusion melts from her face as the first few notes of the song fill the room.

Holding out his hand, he asks, “May I have this dance?”

A soft smile crosses her face as, nodding, she folds herself into his arms.

“You can have every dance.”

Two days from now, they’ll stand in front of five hundred people, most of whom they've never met before, and make their vows once again. It'll be uncomfortable and even a little jarring, but it won’t matter. Steve's right: it’s all trappings. What’s real is now; the beautiful woman in his arms, his wife, and the life they’ll build together. It’s not what Bucky imagined all those years ago as a naïve kid in Brooklyn. This is far better.

#marvel #avengers #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #captain america #fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky fanfic

19 notes · View notes

that-yandere-life · 5 years

Note

Steve rogers or peter parker with a kidnapped darling who's more upset about the fact she can't feed the stray dogs outside of her house? Ily

[Why not both? ;3]

Steve Rogers-

When Steve kidnapped you, he knew there would be some adjustment but you transitioned into that life rather easily.

However as of the past couple of months or so you seem really down about not being able to go outside, and just in general.

Of course Steve tries everything to cheer you up, buying you candy, flowers, stuff for your various hobbies.

But nothing seemed to pick you up out of the funk you were in, causing him to grow more and more concerned about you.

Then one morning he woke up and heard you giggling, and crying? That didn’t seem right to him, so he snuck out quietly as to not alert you.

There he came upon a sight that broke his heart into pieces, you were waving to a stray dog that was just outside the window staring longingly at you, pawing at the glass.

While you were happy, your tears told him that you were upset at not being able to love and help this poor animal.

Right then and there he made a plan to bring back the light behind your eyes, and maybe give you both some much needed companionship.

After you went to sleep that night he went to the store, picking up everything and anything one might need for a dog.

Asking the clerks about what food would be the best for transitioning a stray into a house pet, discovering what was the most popular treat for that size of dog, getting a matching leash, collar, and harness since it was bad to walk dogs by their necks.

Picking out toys that hopefully the dog would not only love, but that you would enjoy using to play with them.

There were an array of name tags to choose from but he wanted you to have the honor of naming your friend.

The last thing he purchased was shampoo, as the poor thing would likely be dirty from its time on the streets alone.

A call to the vet would have to happen tomorrow after he gave you the big reveal, wanting to make sure to get the animal vaccinated and checked over for injuries.

Somehow he managed to do everything without you realizing that he was gone, even though now it was nearly dawn.

Waiting outside with a towel he watched the rising sun, hoping the dog would come by like it did yesterday.

Sure enough there it was, a little nervous of him at first but the dog quickly warmed up to him after a few treats.

Bundling the puppy up in the towel he took him inside, starting to give him a bath the best he could.

Although the dog had other plans, that definitely did not include staying in the bathtub and be washed.

Hearing the commotion from your bedroom it roused you from your slumber, causing you to sit up curiously.

Pushing back the covers you decide to investigate what is going on in the bathroom, opening the door to a huge shock.

There sat the pup you had been watching for the last few months unable to touch or feed them but desperately wanting to.

Also in front of him was a very wet and soapy Steve who donned a deer in the headlights look at being caught.

“Look what you did, you woke up your mommy!”

Eyes growing wide as you let those words sink in, immediately you had pounced on him both of you flying into the half filled bathtub, sending water into the air.

The pup taking this as an opportunity to not finish his bath, sprinting off sopping wet into the house jumping on all the furniture.

“Do you really mean it? He is ours?”

“With all of my heart, never again will you have to feel helpless for them. Plus I grew kind of fond of the little troublemaker in our time together this morning.”

Peter Parker-

After Peter kidnapped you, you were uncharacteristically depressed, despite telling him it wasn’t really the fact that he took you.

It confused him, until one night he heard you sniffling and crying yourself to sleep mumbling something about he would never know what happened to you.

The next morning he decided to ask you what it was that you meant by that, not expecting that you would have a full on breakdown at the kitchen table.

Telling him all about a dog who lived in the alleyway near your apartment complex, how you couldn’t have dogs but you always fed him.

You even gave him a name, since he had no collar and his fur looked weathered so it was clear he was a stray.

That was the only thing that you regretted about being kidnapped, not being able to care for the animal anymore.

Holding you close to him, Peter knew he had to do something to make you smile again if it was the last thing he did.

While he loved dogs he knew nothing about their care, since he had never been able to have one of his own.

So during the day he started doing research on his phone, seeing what all it entailed to have a dog.

It was going to be expensive and time consuming but it was worth it to make you happy living there with him.

While doing this and trying to keep it from you what he was doing, he asked you to describe the dog in detail.

Going through it he learned it was a mutt looking dog, with shaggy white fur that had long turned grey and matted in some places.

The name you had given to him was Toby, after one of your favorite movies as a child called Labyrinth.

Behind your back he set up a secret vet appointment for the next day, giving them the same description you did.

Luckily part of the vet’s office was dedicated to grooming so he in turn made an appointment for that right after.

Along the way to your old apartment the next day, he stopped to pick up what necessities you would need.

Finding the dog easily, however it was very afraid of him, baring his teeth and growling angrily.

Peter started to wonder if this was a good idea, but then he tried calling him by the name Toby completely changing it’s demeanor at the sound.

After that it only took a little coaxing to get him to come to Peter, who placed a harness and leash on the dog before starting to lead him towards the vet.

A clean check up, and grooming session later he checked his watch noticing it was around the time you took a nap.

Smiling to himself, he managed to get Toby back to the house before you woke up, sneaking in the front door.

Placing a bright red ribbon around the pups neck he tried to wait until you got up on your own accord.

Toby on the other hand had a different plan, able to smell that you were in the vicinity taking off, yanking himself out of Peter’s grasp.

Rushing to the bedroom door pushing it open before jumping on the bed, and all over you, startling you awake.

As you focused you realized that you weren’t dreaming, Toby was right there looking better than he ever had before.

“Uh surprise darling?”

Peter is shocked at how fast you fly into his embrace kissing him all over his face, causing him to blush, Toby circling excitedly around you both.

“Thank you so much, I can’t believe you brought him home to me!”

“Welcome home, both of you, finally in the place you both belong.”

[Thank you so much for this really really adorable idea! I hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy it! It was so much fun, and really cute to write out!

#yandere marvel #marvel yandere #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x reader #yandere steve rogers #yandere peter parker #boilingbrulee

939 notes · View notes

profoundnet · 4 years

Photo

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR JUNE 2020!

Featuring works by @blueraven06, @castielslostwings, @delo0821, galium, @goldenraeofsun, @imbiowaresbitch, @jemariel, @masterofevilmonkeyness, @multifandom-fanatic, ravens_tell_stories, @saywhatjessie, @shadowkat-83, shikaro, @spnsmile, tiamatv, @thefandomsinhalor, @vulfmert, and @wookieefucker under the cut.

Redamber79 - @imbiowaresbitch - Redamber79

Free Hugs (E, 2.6k)

Castiel is moving into his dorm for his first year when his older brother Gabriel trips him into the arms of a half-naked hunk holding a sign reading FREE HUGS. Then Cas meets his roommate...

Tags: No Archive Warnings apply, meet-cute, explicit, roommate AU

The Fall of Castiel (E, 5.8k)

Another fight, Castiel's blue eyes flashing as he pinned Dean to a wall for his stubborn refusal to accept his role. A desperate attempt to convince the angel to join Team Free Will. Dean could never have anticipated how well it would work.

Tags: no archive warnings, explicit, canon-adjacent, wing king, grace powered orgasms, claiming, confessions

“Yes, Sir.” (E, 3.8k)

Dean's earned himself a spanking, but keeps losing the count. Cas decides it's time to up the ante for his punishment.

Tags: no archive warnings apply, bdsm, explicit, safe sane consensual, safewords, top cas/bottom dean

Pizza Man (E, 3.4k)

Dean and Castiel are roommates in their third year of college. Cas frantically shows his best friend a horrible typo on the latest ad for the pizza place where he works, just knowing it's going to ruin his night.

Tags: no archive warnings apply, roommates au, explicit, PWP

Grow For Me (E, 20k)

Dean is desperate for a housemate after Charlie moves out. After interviewing several potential tenants with near disastrous results, he meets Cas. Can the lawyer with the strange habit of talking to plants fit into Dean's life?

Tags: no archive warnings apply, omegaverse, POV Dean, explicit, Roommate AU, Complete, Happy Ending, mating cycles/in heat

FriendofCarlotta - @delo0821 - FriendofCarlotta

Adventures in Demon Summoning (E, 10k)

When Dean's friends get high and decide to summon a demon, it seems like a monumentally bad idea. Of course, even Dean couldn't have guessed that the whole thing would land him with a grumpy, sarcastic angel who seems dead-set on following him around.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, Meet-Cute, Soft Boys

JessJesstheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJesstheBest

Five Times Dean felt Out Of His Depth and One Time He Definitely Was (G, 10k)

It was with a sore shin and a broken model P-51D Mustang that Dean began to consider he wasn’t quite ready to be a foster parent. Or it's exactly what is says in the title.

Tags: Human AU, Fluff, Parenthood, foster parent au, Established Relationship, 5+1 Things

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

Fire and Ice (E, 165k)

Firefighter Dean Winchester has somehow tumbled headfirst into a whole new kind of relationship with his quirky paramedic best friend, Castiel Novak. What was only meant to be mutual relief from their high-stress jobs is quickly developing into something more, but with all the missed signals and crossed wires, can these two ever figure out that they're so much closer to being on the same page than they think?

Tags: Firefighter Dean, Paramedic Castiel, Dom Castiel, Sub Dean, Friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, BDSM, all the sex.

multifandom-fanatic - @multifandom-fanatic - multifandom_fanatic

We Can’t Keep This Undercover (T, 5k)

Cas and Dean have been dating for a month, but Sam is clueless, despite the fact that they haven't been hiding that they're together. Or so they thought. After reflecting on Sam's obliviousness, Dean deviously suggests he and Cas try to be as obvious as possible to see how long it’ll take for Sam to realize. Cue Dean and Cas' escalating attempts to prove they're together, and Sam mistaking every scenario until Dean just can't take it anymore.

Tags: Oblivious Sam Winchester, Clueless Sam Winchester, Fluff, Feels, Teasing, Idiots in Love, Sneaky, Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Plotting

Put a Ring on It (T, 3.2k)

After non-stop researching, Cas is in the Bunker's kitchen making Dean lunch with the radio on when he hears Single Ladies by Beyoncé. Suddenly he's stuck by the lyrics and realizes just how much he loves Dean and therefore needs to put a ring on him. Cas goes out and buys a ring, and a week later he proposes to Dean in the library of the Bunker. Will Dean say yes?

Tags: Marriage Proposal, Proposal, Engagement, Castiel Proposes Marriage to Dean Winchester, Inspired by Beyoncé, Crack, Song: Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It), Romantic Fluff, Love, Fluff

galium - galium

scents & sensibility (M, 5.7k)

There are three things Dean knows about betas: (1) Betas are boring. (2) Betas can be passive. (3) Betas have a mediocre sense of smell (well, unless you're Cas).

Tags: AU, A/B/O

ravens_tell_stories - ravens_tell_stories

i’d rather drown (E, 3.7k)

Was there anything weird that you noticed?” “Weird? Other than the fact that I could see you while you were several states away?” “Yes, Dean,” Cas sounds impatient now, which is never a good sign. “Weirder than normal.” Dean tilts his head, weighing his options, then sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I, uh… I could see your wings.” ~~ wing!kink destiel oneshot.

Tags: No archive warnings apply, smut and a little fluff, pwp, handjobs, set season 8

Jemariel - @jemariel - jemariel

Cas is a Tummy Sleeper (T, <1k)

A short fluffy ficlet. Cas is sleepy and snuggly. Dean is smitten. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Tags: Cuddles, bedsharing, human!Cas, fluff

MasterOfEvilMonkeyness - @masterofevilmonkeyness

“Ah yes. Me. My brother. And his Angel who sneaks in his bed when they think I’m asleep” (SFW)

Art created for Meme about Sam, Dean and Cas.

Vulfmert - @vulfmert

Ghost Road (SFW)

Art created for the fic Ghost Road by Kris-Kenobi in the Bottom Dean Big Bang and it’s lovely.

Tags: Michigan, Canon Compliant, Human!Cas, Only One Bed, Case Fic, Post Series. Collaboration with fic by Kris-Kenobi.

spnsmile - @spnsmile - spnsmile

Undercover in the Bunker (M, 3.5k)

Castiel invites an angel to the Bunker to 'observe' the Winchesters in order to change Heaven's view about his charge, only to end up making Dean just a little miserable and himself a little jealous.

Tags: Domestics, Castiel in the Bunker

Devastatingly Yours (G, 3.9k)

When almost everyone—demons included— all but told Dean that his angel is the hottest, most devastatingly handsome angel in the face of the seven seas, he not only believed them, he’s secretly and most exclusively Cas’ number one fan. So when the angel is recruited as a model in the middle of a case, what is Dean to do?

Tags: Established relationships, domestic, fluff

Saved by a Stranger (E, 43k)

Rule One: Never change the deal. Rule Two: No names. Rule Three: Never look in the package. Ex-Special Forces operator, Alpha Castiel Novak adheres three strict sets of rules, which he never breaks as a mercenary "transporter" who moves goods—human or otherwise— from one place to another. No questions asked. Until his new delivery contains a deal-breaker pretty face hot-headed Omega—who turns out to be his true mate— Castiel knows rules have to be changed especially with a dangerous group intent to get their hands on his Omega. Castiel wants to see them try. Destiel x The Transporter AU

Tags: Non-con, Graphic Depiction of violence

The Room Service (E, 39k)

‘Hands off, Pants on!’

Dean Winchester has groomed himself to be a professional room service staff providing hotel guests with all the necessities they need while catering to all mundane whims and complaints except one: keep hands off the staff. Until a mysterious blue-eyed guy enters the 7th heaven floor and shakes Dean’s steamy dreams. And after saving Dean from one dangerous stalker, it seems like the restriction is practically flying off the window for his grumpy blue-eyed hero.

Hotel x Destiel AU

Tags: Romance, Fluff, First meeting, Jealousy,

Baby Plushie (G, 1.1k)

A Baby. Who says Dean doesn't need it?

Tags: Romance, Fluff. Inspired by art by @gabester-sketch.

Shadowkat83 - @shadowkat-83 - Shadowkat83

Better Than I Know Myself (T, 1.1k)

He had to make a choice; he didn't want to. The choice was between the two people he cared about the most: Cas and Sam. They both knew him so well but on different levels. How could he possibly go through with this?

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Songfic, Fluff, Love, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Shikaro - shikaro

Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome (E, 1.5k)

the one where Dean comes untouched for the first time

or the one where they meet at a bar

Tags: PWP

blueraven06 - @blueraven06 - blueraven06

College days (G, 1.2k)

It's Castiel's first day of college and he is already late.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Magic Quarantine Ride (M, 1k)

“Cas,” Dean growls as he stalks past the hospital's general information desk. “What the hell are you doing here, you psycho? Go home - where it’s safe!” Cas whirls around. “You forgot this,” he says hurriedly as he rushes forward with the necklace he made for Dean. “I told you, it will provide protection.” He waves it in the air like a crazy person trying to ward off demons. “You are insane,” Dean says flatly.

Tags: They were quarantined, witch!cas, college nurse!dean, fluff and angst, mentions of COVID-19, mutual pining, emotional hurt/comfort, discussions of PTSD

thefandomsinhalor - @thefandomsinhalor - thefandomsinhalor

A Driver Worth His Salt (E, 68k)

Twenty-year-old Dean Winchester hates fixing up stolen cars on the side for Gordon Walker. But with his grandfather’s dry-cleaning business slowly dying, medical bills piling up, and his younger brother Sam abandoning the prospect of attending college because of their grim situation, Dean convinces himself that it isn’t as reckless as it seems.

When everything goes belly up, leaving him in a troubling position with the wrong people, a representative of the Garrisons, the city’s most powerful and notorious family, offers Dean to help him with his situation in exchange for his employment.

The job is simple: drive the passenger a few times a week to yet-undisclosed locations and return with said passenger without fail. Don’t ask questions. Be on time. Be discreet.

And never interact with each other outside of work.

Shady, but simple.

So, he accepts.

But once he meets the passenger in question—the sharply dressed and rough-looking Castiel Novak—Dean finds that abiding those rules may be more complicated than he had anticipated.

Tags: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Settings, Crimes & Crimes & Criminals, BAMF Castiel, Slow Burn, Hurt Sam Winchester, Trauma

wookieefucker - @wookieefucker - wookieefucker

The Eye of the Storm (T, 8.5k)

“Only fifteen miles to the highway,” Dean said cheerfully, reading from a sign on the side of the path. Bobby groaned loudly. “Shoulda known I’d get my body back only to put it through its paces right away.” Amara left with Chuck, promising that she was going to give Dean what he needed. Maybe what he needed was different than her first impulse.

Tags: eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, season 12 AU, canon AU, canon-typical violence

tiamatv - tiamatv

Spicier Ginger (G, 4k)

Kevin held out a flat piece of dough and spooned in a teaspoon of pork mixture. “You can’t put too much in them or leave any air bubbles inside," he explained, folding up the dumpling. "‘Cause they’ll explode.” “So kind of like packing shotgun shells,” Dean joked. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Dean,” Kevin agreed, very dubiously. “Sure.”

Tags: Cooking, Domesticity, Kevin Tran Lives!, Winchester Family Fluff

To Sleep, Perchance (T, 3.4k)

Dean wasn’t used to good dreams. But he was used to taking what he could get—so when he dreamed of a lean, compact body pressed against his back, an arm heavy over his waist, he settled into it, hazy and comfortable.

Tags: Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon Compliant, Dreams vs Reality, Mark of Cain

Ephelis (E, 1.8k)

“I think someone has sent me a picture of their genitals.” Castiel looked down at his phone. “Erect.”

Tags: AU-Canon Divergence, Dick Pics, Plot What Plot, Fluff and Crack, Season/Series 09

Phaleonopsis (E, 4.8k)

“Here, let me.” Cas’s long fingers plucked away a dead leaf from a calathea, and Dean watched helplessly as Cas rubbed the bare spot where the leaf had come away with a fingertip. “See? Isn’t it nice to let someone touch you now and again?” “Goddammit, Cas ain’t the creep, I’m the creep,” Dean muttered, and put his head down on the desk.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gardening, Roommates, Fluff And Smut, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean

(Atypical) Love Story (E, 13.k)

“Are you… scenting me?” the man in an oversized beige trench coat asked, suspiciously, in a deep gravel voice that ran down Dean’s spine. "Why? I really don't smell like much." Dean’s mouth sagged open. “Dude,” he answered, honestly, “You smell amazing.” He’d never seen anyone look so shocked at a compliment before. “O-oh.”

Tags: Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics; Scenting; Top/Bottom Versatile Dean/Castiel; Alpha Dean/Omega Castiel; Enthusiastic Consent

Pigment (G, 1.6k)

Dean wasn’t ashamed of what he was doing or anything. He didn’t think he had any reason to be, hell. So what if he liked to spend a little of his downtime just putting little blobs of paint inside neat little lines?

Tags: Canon Compliant, Hobbies, Painting, Fluff

#Profoundnet Monthly Masterpost #june masterpost #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #member fic #member art

36 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 3 years

Note

Yamcha NSFW alphabet, please? 😁

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yamcha is super sweet with his aftercare. He loves to hold you in his arms for a little while after, his cock still deep inside of you. He’ll praise you as you can feel his seed leaking out of you. He then gets you all cleaned up and will get you water or something to eat if you are feeling it. He’s a big fan of pillow talk and cuddling and will not leave your side or fall asleep afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yamcha would probably have to say his arms or legs are his favorite. He has a wonderful physique and he is very strong, despite what others may say. Yamcha also would probably say his smile is his favorite body part. The man is kind of vain but he is a good man.

On his lover, he is a sucker for beautiful eyes. They are the window to the soul. He sees how you are feeling just through your eyes and he knows when you are sad or unhappy. He wants to see your eyes shine when you are smiling and so happy. He also loves thighs. He just wants to be buried between your thighs for hours as they squeeze his face while you cum.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s so dirty with this. He loves cumming all over you and gets really aroused when you are all painted up with his seed. If you give him a blow job, you can expect him to give you the ultimate facial. Yamcha cums a lot and he will literally just unload his balls all over your pretty face. Then he scoops some of it up on his finger and feeds it to you. He’s also not opposed to cumming deep inside of you if you let him.

Yamcha is a big fan of teasing and edging you. He’ll keep you on the edge for hours just to hear you beg him to let you cum. He loves the pathetic mewls and whimpers you make whenever he’s got you so close to cumming. You better be ready for this.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He definitely has stolen a pair of your panties and uses it to masturbate. Whether or not you know it exists, he doesn’t care. He loves the silky feeling of it wrapped around his cock while he pumps his hand up and down and thinks of you. He’ll sniff them too and just imagine your pussy on his face. He loves it when you ride his face, so that’s definitely something that gets him off.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a few one night stands, so he wasn’t completely clueless. Yamcha learns fairly quickly, and while he isn’t the master of every technique, you know he is doing everything to make you feel loved and wanted and definitely keeps you satisfied. He will never let you go unsatisfied.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Yamcha loves 69. It’s his favorite position and it gets the job done correctly. He loves it when you sit on his face and wrap your gorgeous lips around his hard cock. Whenever you aren’t doing 69, Yamcha also loves having you in the missionary position but with your legs spread wide or up on his shoulders so that he can fuck you nice and deep. Anything to be able to fuck you deeply or to have you both cumming quickly.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s definitely goofy and loves to tell dirty jokes while he’s fucking you. Yamcha loves having fun sex and he wants you to moan and laugh. He wants you to have a good time, so expect lots of cheesy and sleazy dirty talk as he fucks you hard. Sometimes, he can be serious and loving especially when he’s feeling needy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s got a small patch of pubic hair that is very dark and coarse. He keeps it nice and clean and will trim it. He’s not a huge fan of shaving and actually enjoys it when you don’t shave either(unless you aren’t into that, then Yamcha is happy with whatever you like). He’s got a slight trail of dark hair that leads down into his pants as well.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This depends on how Yamcha is feeling, but most of the time he loves to treat sex and intimacy like a good time or a game. That’s not to say that Yamcha is playing head games or anything like that. He just enjoys having a good time with you and he loves to make sure that you are happy and feeling good. Sometimes, he gets very romantic and buys you stuff and plans special nights out at the fancy love hotel. It all depends on how he’s feeling.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates a healthy amount. Even if he fucks you that day, that doesn’t mean he’s going to not masturbate. He loves playing with toys and watching porn and he will absolutely lose his mind if you join him. Nothing better than for the both of you to watch some porn and masturbate together. Yamcha won’t be able to resist for long and he’ll just fuck you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Yamcha is kind of a vanilla guy, so his kinks are limited. He’s open to trying new things but he loves things that are tried and true. Some of his kinks involve lingerie, toys, spanking, squirting, tongue fucking and titty fucking. You could probably open his eyes to new things if you are both interested in it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

This one is really simple. Yamcha wants to fuck you somewhere privately. He doesn’t really wanna get caught. He loves just being able to take his time with you without getting interrupted or distracted by something else. He loves fucking you on the bed, but he’s not opposed to fucking on the couch or in the shower. Anything to get you alone and somewhere private...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yamcha is a sucker for revealing clothing. He finds you so damn sexy and he just wants you to flaunt that gorgeous body of yours. Anytime you wear something revealing, it gets his blood pumping. Yamcha is so turned on by this. He also loves when you give him that look, where you bite your lower lip and raise one eyebrow. Rub his thigh and tell him how you wanna be alone, and he’s there.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not be okay with anything that either hurts you seriously or embarrasses you. He’s not into anything involving feces or urine, but if you were up for it, he’d probably consider it honestly. It’s just not really his kind of thing. He’s also not super into sharing you or having semi-public sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ohhh Yamcha loves going down on you. It’s one of his favorite things in the world. The way you look down at him with that fucked out look and the taste of your arousal and he’s just immediately rock hard. The sounds you make and the wet sounds coming from your pussy. It’s just all so damn sexy. He’ll edge you for hours and then when he thinks you should cum, he makes you squirt.

But if you want to reciprocate and go down on him, Yamcha is so weak for that. He loves it when you both lie on the bed and you just worship his cock for hours. He’ll edge himself as best as he can when you do this. Play with his balls though, and he’s cumming quick. It’s one of his ultimate weaknesses.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This all depends on you. If you are feeling like you wanna get pounded, you better believe Yamcha will fuck you rough and fast. He’ll slap your ass and push your head down on the pillow while his cock slams into you over and over again. But, if you are feeling more needy and wanting love, he’s sensual. He’ll hold you close and shower you with praise and give you all the kisses while he slowly rocks his hips.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

There are times for these, and Yamcha is definitely grateful when he can fuck you over not being able to fuck you, but he’s not a huge fan of quickies. He wants to fuck you for hours if he can, and if he doesn’t get the time for that, then he’ll definitely settle for a good quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This depends. He loves to experiment with you, but he doesn’t want to risk anything where it could result in death or harm. He also isn’t into doing anything in public, so you can expect him to keep the experimentation in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yamcha can last a long time, and he’s good at edging himself if he needs to. Sometimes he gets very excited and cums quickly, but that’s usually only when you’ve been apart for a long time. He can go for a few rounds, but his refractory period is fairly normal. It takes him a little while to get hard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves toys and generally uses them during sex. He loves going to the sex store with you and buying you all kinds of things that’ll help make you cum easier. He’s not afraid of having you use them on him either and actually loves it if you initiate with this.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be a tease a lot of the time, but it takes him everything not to just give in when you start begging. He loves listening to your pathetic little sounds when you plead to him, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on completely.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud and he loves grunting and groaning. Yamcha wants you to know he’s enjoying his time with you as well. He’ll be so loud when he cums and it’s honestly so damn sexy to hear him moan like this. He loves to talk dirty too and make some jokes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Yamcha is definitely into roleplay. If you wanna get into costume and character, he’s going to be so turned on by this. Your favorite roleplay is definitely sensei and student, but you both also enjoy playing doctor.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Yamcha is very muscular and very well built. His cock is long and thick, boasting a good 8 inches. It’s got lots of veins that drag against your walls and drive you crazy. He’s uncut and the base is definitely thicker than the head.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s so damn horny for you all of the time and he’s going to fuck you at least once a day, but sometimes he understands that he can’t always fuck you. He thinks about you a lot and he’s often fantasizing about when he’s going to fuck you next.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes he is out like a light just right after sex, so he does tend to expend a lot of energy and tire himself out. He’ll always make sure you are comfortable before he falls asleep.

#writing #reader requested #anon requested #yamcha #yamcha x you #yamcha x reader #yamcha x y/n #yamcha headcanons #yamcha smut #yamcha lemon #dragon ball #dragon ball smut #dragon ball headcanons #dragon ball z headcanons #dragon ball z #dragon ball z lemon

120 notes · View notes

thejudgingtrash · 4 years

Note

Mel, my darling! ❤️ Mel's little cookout: model Percy/makeup artist Annabeth pretty please (ILYSM ❤️❤️)

Beccaaaa YOU HAD ME SCREAMING WITH THAT REQUEST!!!

I have an ENTIRE headcanon for Model!Percy and edits to make for it!!

Do you know how much I love you? This isn’t funny!

Okay! Enjoy your prompt!! (also thank you Torie @percyheartsannabeth for being an amazing beta!)

The Model (WC: 2,3k)

Annabeth Chase had a secret passion. Makeup. Most of her classmates would’ve never thought that she would enjoy the art of the daily enhancements, but she secretly did. Techniques, palettes, brushes, sponges… Everything was kept in boxes at home, all neat and tidy.

Annabeth Chase also never thought that she would actually get the gig at MAC to work there. She aced the multiple interview rounds, impressed her future employer with her skills and diverse approach in makeup and was nearly hired on the spot. And now she was a fairly skilled makeup artist. One of the best.

There was another thing that Annabeth Chase never would have guessed. That it would take only one random afternoon to change her life forever.

A man entered the store. He was tall, wore sunglasses and an expensive Italian suit. He chatted with Drew, Annabeth’s supervisor.

“Oh, yes!” said Drew with a polite smile. “Annabeth?”

The blonde turned around and approached them. “He wishes for something natural for the day to cover the circles under the eyes,” Drew explained. “Can you do that quickly?”

“Of course, I can. Please follow me, sir!” Annabeth rarely worked with men, but there was a first for anything.

Her client took a seat and removed his sunglasses. Despite having rich dark skin, blemishes and fatigue ruined an otherwise fairly handsome face. The man took care of himself. Mostly. Sleep apparently wasn’t important enough.

Annabeth took her arsenal of makeup and other supplies and put them in front of the large mirror the client was facing. “You are warm toned,” she softly spoke and grabbed foundations to mix them together.

“Skin is already primed,” the man added. He also sounded Italian.

“Oh yes, I can see that!” she smiled. Then she started her work. She grabbed her sponge and placed the mixed foundation. Slow buildup, little by little. She used the concealer to smooth the surface and brighten the under eye area a little bit. Highlighter for a little pop. The customer didn’t want a full eye look, just curled lashes and mascara and sharpened eyebrows. Roughly twenty minutes passed, and Annabeth stepped aside so that the man could see the magic she had worked.

“Oh wow!” the client sounded impressed and tilted his head.

“Very natural. I like that!”

Annabeth smiled. “Oh yes. A full face can be so expressive and fun but not something for the day to day. A natural look should enhance your beauty, make spots disappear, not turn you into something you aren’t.”

“Very true,” the client agreed.

“Can I book you again?” he then asked. Annabeth nodded to Drew.

“Oh sure, just ask my boss!”

The man laughed and shook his head. “No, no, honey. Can I book you?”

His hand wandered into his suit and pulled a business card out. He handed the card to Annabeth.

Charon Bianchi. Casting director. Paris – NYC - Milano. DMFASHIONSTUDIO.

Annabeth looked up to Mr. Bianchi. “Uh…sure?”

The following four years changed everything for her. Gone was the job at MAC after she had signed with Charon. Hello flourishing career as an international MUA that got booked for galas, editorial shootings and runway gigs. Even certain celebrities and YouTubers hired her.

Annabeth had seen it all in those short years and had worked with all of them. She had been in Shanghai and then in Greece two days later. Flights from Paris to Kabul, New York to London. Annabeth had crossed paths with famous makeup artists like Pat McGrath, Charlotte Tilbury or Lisa Eldridge. She had been on the sets of photo shootings with incredible photographers such as Lara Jade, Lina Tesch, Cass Bird and even the famous Peter Lindbergh before he had passed. But the more recent things she had been booked for were runway gigs. Less pay, but more fun and definitely more stress.

Paris 2020. Dior Men, the new fall/winter 2020/21 collection. Designer Kim Jones wanted Annabeth to return to the set, so she did. The venue was beautiful. That was all Annabeth could think before she and a dozen others were sent backstage to prep their own little areas before models, videographers and photographers would swarm the place. Four hours until the show began, and everybody was already stressed out. The first few models showed up. Annabeth had been given a set card with faces she would work with on that particular day. 47 looks in total with 37 male models. Second looks, great Annabeth thought. More stress.

Malick Bodian, Ludwig Wilsdorff and Perseus Jackson were the models that were assigned to her. Perseus Jackson. A handsome young man, not much older than Annabeth came to her mind. Long curls, brown skin, light eyes and a beautiful grin. Annabeth had seen Perseus multiple times, but she had not worked with him directly before. Whereas many designers or their agents chose models because they had an interesting look or a beautiful symmetrical face, Perseus had both. The IT factor. His walk was among the best of his generation.

Annabeth was done with Ludwig’s look as she saw how Perseus stepped into the hectic atmosphere. He was two hours early which meant that he was four hours too late in the fashion world.

“You’re good to go,” said Annabeth to the young man next to her.

“Thanks,” he laughed and got up to get dressed.

Annabeth waved Perseus over to her. His lips formed an “Oh,” before he sat down next to her.

“I think we’ve never worked together before, haven’t we?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Well, Percy,” he introduced himself.

“Annabeth,” she smiled.

“Annabeth?”

“Don’t ask,” she rolled her eyes. “A southern thing.”

That made him roar with laughter. Annabeth had the entire Dior makeup arsenal next to her and was supposed to focus on enhancing his looks, but she couldn’t. He was way too charming, way too funny, way too charismatic. They talked about life before fashion. Percy got scouted at the age of sixteen as he was working at his mother’s bakery in NYC. At first, he thought it was a joke and his mother also had been very skeptical, but after the first few gigs, they realized that Percy had the potential of making it big in the scene.

Annabeth could sense that he was one of the few male models that could actually live a fairly comfortable life with his runway, video and editorial income. He was way too relaxed, and Annabeth knew how struggling models looked like.

Percy had seen Annabeth’s work before. They’ve crossed looks behind the scenes of Prada, Valentino and Isabel Marant. At first, he had thought she had been a model herself with her height and gorgeous looks. The fact that she had been hired as a makeup artist came as a total surprise to him. The blonde set the foundation. He paid close attention to the movement of her hand. That is how he saw her diamond for the first time.

“Oh, wait you’re engaged?” His eyes widened.

“What?” Annabeth looked at the ring on her finger. A birthday gift to herself.

“Oh that,” she laughed.

“I think I might have missed the memo, but I’m pretty sure that I’m single.”

“Oh,” Percy laughed. He almost sounded relieved.

The makeup was a soft look that should set focus on the grooming of the models. A glow on the cheekbones. Smooth skin. Little crystals that were set around the eyes functioned as little highlights. A black earring dangled from his left ear. Then Annabeth moved further to his lips.

Annabeth used neutral brown tones that were supposed to enhance his looks. She applied the color and slowly worked on his bottom lip. His lips slightly parted and his intense stare made Annabeth blush. Her gray eyes wandered back to his lips to finish her work.

“I think you’re good to go,” Annabeth said.

“Already?” he pouted. It was unfair. How could someone shift from fierce to seal eyes in less than a second? Features that could shift from humor to almost anger so easily from the shoots Annabeth had seen from him.

“Move,” she laughed.

Perseus got up. “See you around,” he winked. A warm feeling spread through Annabeth. He’s just cheeky. That’s all.

*****

The collection had a touch of British fashion. Percy grabbed his stuff and was placed into a changing room by a stylist. As soon as he left, he had been swarmed by people that corrected everything. From the way the tie was sitting to the way the white jersey was stuffed into his pants. Someone actually got on their knees to work on the socks. His first look was a gray wool coat which was accompanied by a dark set of pants, a white jersey which had a silver shirt underneath. A fitting white tie and white gloves were set as highlights.

“We need someone to do a little retouch!” one of the stylists yelled. Percy turned around to see if Annabeth was around somewhere. She was not. She still sat in her niche and worked her magic on his colleague Malick. They were laughing. A pang to his heart. Disappointment.

“Hey Percy!” Makeup artist and great friend Piper McLean greeted him and redid some of Annabeth’s layers.

“All models must be ready in the next ten minutes!” yelled director Luke Castellan over the noise and busy people. “First Looks and then get in line! Ten minutes everybody!”

Percy got to the small corner where photographers were ready to take the first pictures of the entire looks. Posing, demonstrating, not getting blinded by the flashing lights. Percy stood in a group with Jason Grace, Ethan Nakamura and Taemin Park. They broke the formation after a few minutes to make room for the next set of models with other looks. Percy got in line for the runway. He wasn’t going to open the show; he was the fourth look. But he would have the honor of closing the show. A key highlight. He made a silent prayer and then it was time.

Assistant Grover Underwood gave the opening model Nico di Angelo the go to walk out. Everyone stared at the screen backstage in anticipation.

“Go!” Charles Beckendorf left.

“Go!” Jason Grace moved forward.

“Go!” It was Percy’s turn.

*****

Annabeth was in awe of his work. Percy walked upright. The right amount of poise and elegance. A hint of arrogance. A lot of determination. He did not move his hips too much and he accentuated the movement of his shoulders. A strong masculine walk and on beat with the music too. A beautiful strut. A neutral game face but his sea green eyes were set aflame.

Percy focused the minute he had reached the middle of the runway. He could do a sloppier walk in the beginning but not anymore. Eyes open, be casual but attentive. The camera that would capture the picture for Vogue Runway which would be sent all over the world in a few minutes caught his gaze. He worked around the crowd of celebrities and fashionistas that captured his looks with their own smartphones and made his way backstage. The coat got taken off immediately. A stylist handed him the final outfit which he had to change in less than a minute. Then Piper caught up with him and did small retouches before he went to Second Looks.

Percy wore a black coat which was embroidered with silver elements. The strong silver started from the collar and was reduced by the chest area. The streaks got less and less, like feathers that were falling and captured. The black fabric of the coat took over and created an interesting silhouette.

Percy was surprised. Annabeth stood next to him and actually did his retouching again. Her thumb brushed the fallout off. A small gesture he truly enjoyed.

“What? No good luck kiss for me?” Percy asked innocently. Annabeth’s jaw dropped. She actually laughed. Cheeky. He was very cheeky.

“What would you need a good luck kiss for?” He was more than just professional. Percy didn’t need luck. He just worked and did so perfectly each and every single time.

“Go!” said Grover and pushed him out. A last cocky grin and wink to Annabeth and then he was back on stage.

Annabeth stood next to designer Kim and watched how Percy worked his magic on the runway again. All 37 models were set in a row and did one final round one after another after Grover’s go. After that, the designer went on stage and bowed to the crashing applause.

The crew backstage cheered as well. Another gig was done and over and the fashion world knew what the man would wear in the coming fall season.

Annabeth helped collect the makeup and clean the area. She turned around and nearly walked into Percy. Percy almost looked nervous.

“Oh. Is everything okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you whether you had makeup wipes,” he said lamely.

Annabeth grabbed a few and handed them to him. He was already changed back into his casual jeans and black hoodie. It almost broke the makeup artist’s heart to see the model cleaning the canvas. But with or without makeup, Percy was a handsome man.

“Thank you,” he smiled. And he did not move an inch. A question rested on his lips.

“Would you like to drink some coffee with me?” Annabeth halted her movements and looked up to Percy.

“What?”

Percy was surprised at her surprised reaction. The fact that top model Percy Jackson was single and actually had asked her out blew her mind. Annabeth nearly dropped the brushes.

“Are you serious?” Annabeth asked him. He was confused.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious? I like you,” he explained. A man that was direct. That was something Annabeth certainly liked.

“So. Coffee or not?”

“Sure,” she said and shared his smile.

The End

The looks I’ve chosen are looks 4 and 47 from Dior Men!

And of course! The letter! I haven’t forgotten!

Thank you so much for the prompt, Becca! Writing this was so much fun!

All Cookout Fics

Cute/Cursed Cookout Writing Prompts

#pjo #Percy Jackson #mel's little cookout #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo fanfic #percabeth fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians #mel writes

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ggukcangetit · 4 years

Text

Dreamcatchers Chap 3

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Synopsis: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. Basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama

Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Acknowledgement: shoutout to @stutterfly for designing this beautiful banner which i am completely in love with and stare at for no particular reason throughout the day

A/N: reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

18th December

Ahreum parked her motorbike outside the bakery and checked her phone for messages. There were none. This wasn’t unusual in itself, except for the fact that she had been supposed to meet him 2 hours ago at the other end of town. Which meant that he was hiding from her.

“Where is he?” she asked, walking up to the counter and heaving a tired sigh.

Seokjin pressed his lips together, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to break out. Ahreum was definitely a force to be reckoned with - usually bright and overflowing with energy, there was only one situation that caused the optimist in her to hurtle towards a speedy demise.

“Can I interest you in some raspberry choux au craquelin?” He picked up a tray with freshly baked pastry and waved it enticingly in front of her.

“This doesn’t work on me, Seokjin. Although-” she picked up a few and wrapped them in some paper napkins - “I’m sure Yuri would love to try these. Now, where is he?”

Seokjin sighed and took off his apron. “He’s in the room right at the back where I do the accounts.”

Ahreum sighed and walked around the back of the counter, heading towards the rooms at the back of the bakery. Seokjin had three areas at the back - his kitchen (really no one other than him was allowed in here), the store room (which was way too small to fit even one full grown person in it), and the accounts room (where a certain someone had taken to hiding whenever things got a little too difficult).

And sure enough, a mop of curly black hair was visible from the door to the accounts room. On any other day, Ahreum would’ve found his shenanigans extremely hilarious; but she was really not in the mood for any silly games today.

“You were supposed to meet me two hours ago.” Her voice was soft but it still made him jump up and nearly knock over the PC he had been fidgeting with.

“Fuck!” he gasped. “What the hell? I nearly died!”

Ahreum rolled her eyes as she helped him up. “Don’t be dramatic, Tae. It’s really not as attractive as you think.”

Be that as it may, there was not much that could be considered unattractive on Kim Taehyung. He was somewhat of a social media celebrity thanks to the aesthetically taken pictures of his undoubtedly handsome face - all of which Ahreum had taken. In fact, when Ahreum had shown Yuri some of the pictures from her instagram page, she had gasped rather loudly.

“He’s literally a piece of art!”

“I mean, yes, he’s definitely conventionally attractive,” conceded Ahreum, a little annoyed that her photography was almost completely being ignored. “But what do you think of the pictures?”

“‘Conventionally attractive’? Is that the best you can do with your Literature & Creative Writing degree?”

Ahreum peered over his shoulder to see what he was working on so intently, only to find that he was-

“Playing a game?? You ditched me to play a fucking PC game?” she gasped, whacking his shoulder hard. “What the hell is wrong with you, Kim Taehyung?!”

“No!” He held his hands up to protect himself from further blows. “I just started playing a few minutes ago! I swear!”

“Why’d you ditch, then?”

“Because…” he trailed off, looking away guiltily. That, in essence, was the entire problem regarding Kim Taehyung. He ran at the sight of any kind of responsibility or hard work. Correction - any kind of hard work that wasn’t related to his hobbies.

“You were supposed to finish reviewing company policies today so that you wouldn’t be unprepared when you meet your dad tomorrow.”

“I know.” He looked downcast, switching off the PC monitor. “I just-”

“If this isn’t what you want to do, you should just tell them.” Seokjin walked into the room, untying his apron carefully.

“I don’t know,” sighed Taehyung. “I’m not sure if this is what I want to do, but I don’t know what else I could possibly do. I’m not like you.”

“You don’t have to be like me, Taehyung,” sighed Seokjin.

Taehyung let out a humorless laugh. “Eomma and Appa sure are trying their damned best that I do become like you. At least, like you till you ran away.”

Seokjin snorted. “They’re tenacious, if nothing else.”

“Are you ever gonna come home?” asked Taehyung, looking up for the first time.

“No.”

This had never been an easy topic of discussion. Mr. and Mrs. Kim were owners of the largest financial consulting firm in Busan. They were well-liked in society and highly respected for their unusually ethical business practices. So it was a huge shock when their elder son - who had gotten an MBA and possessed all the qualities of heading a large company - had left home suddenly, leaving only a single note.

This is not the life for me. I have dreams of my own. I don’t think I can stay in touch. Please forgive me.

There were many tears shed, but recovery was quick as a new successor had to be found. Thus, the Kims’ younger son - the one who had lived a charmed and carefree life while his brother learned about business techniques and the history of the company - was suddenly thrust into the front line.

Naturally, when Taehyung had run into his brother a few miles outside of the metropolitan, running a cozy bakery, he had been less than thrilled. Ahreum still remembered the angry tears that had rolled down her friend’s usually cheerful face. Seokjin, on the other hand, looked so conflicted that Ahreum thought he might just combust on the spot. It had taken a few weeks, but the brothers had eventually reconciled. Taehyung had made a deal with his parents - he would attend all meetings and grooming lessons as long as he was allowed to live somewhere else. And that somewhere else happened to be Seokjin’s small, but tastefully done up, apartment.

Taehyung usually had 4 meetings in a week; all ending by 4 pm so that he could drive home before nightfall. The rest of the days, he was free to do whatever he pleased. This arrangement had worked well for almost 3 months, but Taehyung’s free-spirited nature could only hold out for so long. He had been reaching meetings late, forgetting to complete paperwork, and even sneaking out early if he could manage it. Seokjin had requested Ahreum to make sure his younger brother attended all his meetings because he was always managing the bakery at those times. Seokjin himself made sure that Taehyung didn’t forget to do any of the work that had been assigned to the younger boy during his meetings.

Today, however, Ahreum realised that her friend was at his breaking point. He had done everything in his power to avoid her so that he wouldn’t have to prepare for the meeting. Not just that, Seokjin-

“Why’d you let him hide here?” Ahreum turned towards the older Kim brother, her hands on her hips - a sure sign that her patience was running thin. “After the dozens of lectures you gave me about making sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you go ahead and help him play hooky? What the hell, Seokjin?”

Seokjin didn’t know how to explain to her that he felt guilty. Guilty that his younger brother was suffering like this, guilty that his parents were so desperate that they had decided to entrust the future of the company to a young boy who had missed his final university exam because he had found a stray puppy during his morning cycle rides (and had promptly decided to adopt it). But Seokjin couldn’t leave behind his dream - his resentment towards his family had been growing with each passing year, and the drastic move and change in communication had been a desperate attempt to stop himself from hating his family forever. Caught between doing right by his own self and by his parents and younger brother, Seokjin often questioned if any of this was worth it.

But rather than explain all this to his brother’s friend - who had pinned him with a rather glowering look - he did what he always did in difficult situations. He avoided answering directly and used humor to deflect everything.

“I was cleaning up your mess, unfortunately. I’m not the one who lost him during a fixed study session, Ahreum. You should be thanking me,” he grinned, dodging the pencil Ahreum threw at him. “But since I’m such a generous, handsome, charming, and talented individual, I’ll let it slide and pack two large boxes of pastries for you to take home. One for your friend and the other for Namjoon. No charge, it’s on the house.”

Ahreum rolled her eyes while Taehyung giggled at his brother’s speech.

“I’d better get 4 large iced teas along with the pastries,” she said, finally relenting. Seokjin winked at her and went back to the front of the store to get everything prepared.

“I’m sorry for ditching you,” Taehyung said softly, his black curls falling over his eyes. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Maybe we should try and figure out a different system. How many more of these meetings and lessons do you need to attend, anyway? Why don’t you ask your parents if you can reduce the number of meetings in a week?”

“I guess I could,” he replied, thoughtfully. “By the way, did you see Jimin on your way here?”

Ahreum shook her head. “Nope. Was I supposed to have?”

“No… it’s just that-” he checked his phone absentmindedly. “He hasn’t been answering any of my calls or texts since last night.”

“Since when does Park Jimin start his day before 3 pm?” scoffed Ahreum. “He’s probably hungover at some girl’s apartment.”

“Aw come on, Ahreum. He’s been so much better recently,” whined Taehyung. “And I’m not saying that just because he’s my best friend. He barely parties anymore - unless it’s a business appointment. He’s been helping his dad with the business as well. Unlike me, he actually goes to work 5 days a week.”

“Wow, let’s give him a medal for doing the bare minimum.”

Seokjin appeared at that moment, holding two bulging pastry boxes and a cup holder with 4 cups of iced tea.

“Tell Namjoon to drop by sometime, or that’s the last eclair he’ll be seeing!” he yelled as Ahreum strapped on her helmet and bade goodbye.

xxx

Jeongguk sat at his desk, his mind straying to that night in November. He could clearly recall the murder - the young woman on the ground, blood leaking from the multiple stab wounds all over her abdomen. She lived on part-time jobs, her demeanour quiet and unassuming as recounted by the handful of employers who had managed to recall her face. It was not surprising that she did not have too many possessions of her own, her life neatly tucked away into a one-room storage on the ground floor of a run-down building. But it wasn’t all of this that kept distracting Jeongguk from almost everything in his life - it was the picture of a three year old girl, the only evidence of life in the entire room, smiling brightly at her mother. The mother who lay in a pool of her own blood, and the little girl who had been missing since that day.

“The ramen’s gone cold? Things must have really changed since I last saw you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, his eyes lighting up in surprise.

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” he asked, getting up and hugging his friend. “Why aren’t you in Seoul, putting bigwigs behind bars?”

“Let’s get some lamb skewers. My treat.” Jeongguk grinned at the suggestion, the grisly murder and the missing girl temporarily forgotten.

20 minutes later, they were sitting at a hole in the wall diner that Jeongguk hadn’t been to since he had been promoted to Detective Inspector.

“Are you telling me that our own Min Yoongi is now a father? The same guy who instilled fear in the hearts of the juniors by narrowing his eyes at them?”

Yoongi laughed, his gummy smile appearing for the first time. “She’s almost 4 weeks old. Sometimes I’m not even sure if she’s real. But then Eunbi puts me on diaper duty and there’s no way that smell can’t be real.”

“Knew she was something special the day she called you out on your bullshit,” grinned Jeongguk. “The famous Min Eye Narrowing technique didn’t work on her.”

“Yeah, she told me to stop pulling all-nighters and get a new prescription from my eye doctor,” recalled Yoongi, adjusting his glasses. “Turns out the famous Min Eye Narrowing technique was just plain old myopia.”

“But enough about me,” he continued, once Jeongguk had stopped laughing. “Why was that ramen sitting out and getting cold?”

Normally, Jeongguk wouldn’t discuss the details of a case with anyone else. But Yoongi wasn’t just anyone - they had trained at the same police academy in Seoul and the older boy had quickly understood that 18 year old Jeongguk wasn’t a standoffish troublemaker; just extremely homesick. Even after Jeongguk had moved back to Busan, he and Yoongi still kept in touch with each other, no matter how sporadic.

Jeongguk sighed and explained the details of the November case. “I just can’t let it go. Where is that little girl? We haven’t found a body either - so there’s a chance she might still be alive. It’s just- I think I’m going crazy.”

“I understand,” said Yoongi, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “That pathetic partner of yours can’t be of much use either, I’m sure. Still don’t know how they promoted Song to Detective Inspector. I’ve always maintained that he’s one shot away from becoming an alcoholic.”

“Well you weren’t wrong,” said Jeongguk, with a resigned chuckle. “They relieved him of his duties a couple of months ago.”

“Oh? Who’s your new partner then?”

“Some annoying Captain America wannabe,” grumbled Jeongguk. It was a well-known fact that he was a huge Iron Man fan and had not appreciated the ending of Civil War. “Choi Yuri - she’s from Seoul.”

“Choi Yuri?!” asked Yoongi, his eyes widening comically. “Your new partner is Yuri??”

“You know her?” asked Jeongguk, frowning.

“Of course I know her! We worked together for almost 3 years!” exclaimed Yoongi. “Wait, why’d you call her a Captain America wannabe? You hate Steve Rogers.”

“I do not hate Steve Rogers. I hate Captain America. There’s a difference.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you don’t like Yuri.”

“She’s too by-the-book.” Jeongguk frowned, his fingers twirling the chopsticks absentmindedly. “Perfect first impression, perfectly friendly to everyone, perfectly punctual; Goh absolutely loves her. I’m sure she’ll get in the way of the investigation because of her need to follow procedure to the t.”

Yoongi frowned. “That... doesn’t sound like her. I mean, she’s definitely punctual but she’s never made a great first impression. She usually comes off as reserved, aloof - haughty even.”

“Maybe she’s changed,” shrugged Jeongguk, not particularly interested in the personality changes of his new partner.

“She has. I didn’t think that incident would have affected her like this. But…” Yoongi trailed off, staring at nothing in particular.

“What incident?”

“The reason she was transferred from Seoul. Hasn’t she told you?”

“No.”

“I don’t know if I should…” muttered Yoongi, his face reflecting his inner conflict. “But if knowing the truth makes it easier for you two to work together, then…”

Jeongguk frowned, wondering what exactly the big mystery was.

“We were investigating a homicide and it led us to a very high profile family in Seoul. It was quite clear that the eldest son was involved in the murder. I was Chief Inspector at that time, and we were getting a lot of pressure from above to wrap up the case without involving the family. But Yuri was determined to pursue the investigation. She had even rented an apartment closer to work so that she could devote more time to the case. One night, when she got back to her apartment, someone attacked her. It was quite brutal and she needed a couple of surgeries and two months of therapy after that. We eventually had to drop the case against the eldest son. Right after that, Yuri got her transfer letter. I didn’t know she had been transferred here, otherwise I would’ve told you about her. She’s a smart detective, Jeongguk. Just try and work with her. Maybe she needs some time to adjust to getting back to work after that entire fiasco.”

Jeongguk was stunned. He would never have thought Yuri had gone through something so traumatic if Yoongi hadn’t told him. Her outward demeanour hinted at nothing of the sort, and he felt a small bubble of guilt forming in his stomach.

xxx

Yuri sat at her desk, going over the autopsy report for the twentieth time. There were no leads (other than a very uncooperative Park Jimin), no physical evidence, no concrete motive - things were looking increasingly hopeless. On top of that, she still had to contend with an asshole of a partner.

“Yuri?” Seulgi ran up to her desk, slightly out of breath. “Where’s Jeon?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think we may have something.” Seulgi pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “After the autopsy concluded that Eunwoo hit his head after being pushed, I wondered if there was a proper fight preceding that. So I examined his clothes and hands once again - to try and find any evidence of a scuffle. And I did. There was dried blood, not a lot, put enough for me to run a test on it. And you know what I found?”

“It wasn’t Eunwoo’s blood.”

“Exactly. Which means...?”

“It might be from the person who fought with and then shoved him to his death.”

“Unfortunately, the blood on the sleeve doesn’t belong to anyone in the system so I would need a sample to test it against.” Seulgi waved a hand in front of Yuri, trying to get her attention.

“Oh yeah… Sorry. Yeah, a blood sample. Our only suspect right now is Park Jimin. But we let him go yesterday because we didn’t have anything concrete to hold him.”

Seulgi frowned. “So what are you waiting for? Ask him to come in and provide a blood sample.”

“It’d be completely voluntary, though. He has every right to refuse,” said Yuri, closing her eyes in frustration. She had a feeling there was no way Park Jimin would cooperate with her now when he had blatantly refused to provide an alibi earlier.

“I know you’re new here, Yuri,” said Seulgi. “But Jimin’s an asshole. Everyone knows that. He’s evaded the law so many times because his father has the best lawyers on his payroll. That’s why he’s not in the system even though he deserves to be - he’s bought his way out multiple times.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” asked Yuri, genuinely curious.

Seulgi’s body stiffened at the question and she stood up suddenly. “I’m just stating facts. I don’t know him personally.”

Yuri could see that she had touched a nerve. “I’ll try and get him to give a blood sample. How long would you need to run the test?”

“I can have it done the same day if I get the sample early enough.”

Yuri pocketed her phone and keys, swiping the half-empty bottle of water from her desk, and walked towards the exit. Her mind was thinking of how exactly she could convince Park Jimin to willingly provide a blood sample. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the wariness she felt around young sons of influential businessmen and politicians. She no longer knew what the right step forward should be in an investigation. Something that was instinctive and almost second-nature to her, had been robbed from her and she had no idea how to get it back. Her continuous second-guessing would eventually show in the investigation, and she had no doubt that Jeon would jump at the chance to expose her inadequacies. Once again, she felt alone and vulnerable; somehow trying to survive while her weaknesses were laid bare for anyone to pick at. She had never felt this powerless since graduating from the academy.

In her distracted state, Yuri almost ran into heavy incoming traffic. Almost. Fortunately, someone grabbed a hold of her and yanked her back by her elbow before she could become roadkill.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much! I-I wasn’t looking where I was-” she stopped short as she realized who had pulled her back to safety.

“Yoongi?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not the one who was heading directly into peak traffic,” said Yoongi, rolling his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I’m fine,” she said, still trying to process everything. “What are you doing here?”

Before Yoongi could reply, another voice spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys go ahead and catch up? The coffee shop across the street isn’t too bad. I need to attend to some paperwork anyway, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later, Yoongi.”

Yuri stared open-mouthed as Yoongi grinned and thanked Jeon for lunch.

“So, coffee?”

It had been a few months since Yuri had seen her friend and senior. He didn’t look too different, except for the bags under his eyes. Maybe he had become a little thinner as well.

“You didn’t tell me why you’re here,” said Yuri, once they had both gotten their orders.

“I came to pick up something for the little one,” said Yoongi, opening a packet of sugar and offering it to her.

“Shit. I totally forgot! The last time I saw you, Eunbi was approaching her due date! How is she? And how’s baby Min doing?”

Yoongi scrunched his nose at the last question. “Baby Min is a horrible way to address anyone. Let’s not do that. Eunbi’s fine, and so is the little one. We still haven’t decided on a name yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of a really beautiful name,” Yuri said, smiling softly. “There’s no need to rush.”

“How are you?”

Yoongi’s question was simple. But they both knew that the answer to it was anything but.

“I don’t know.” The frown on her face told Yoongi that a direct approach was not going to work.

“I heard that you haven’t been getting along well with your new partner,” he asked instead, suppressing a grin when her eyes lit up furiously.

“About that,” said Yuri, crossing her arms over her chest. “How do you know Jeon?”

“Jeongguk and I trained at the same academy. I was a couple of years ahead of him. But we have a mutual love of lamb skewers that helped us bond. He’s a good kid.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Yuri. “Didn’t think I’d ever doubt your character judgement abilities, Yoongi, but I’m gonna have to disagree with you on this one. Jeon’s an asshole. And he’s made things really difficult for me, even though it’s barely been three days since I started here.”

“I won’t lie,” chuckled Yoongi. “He didn’t have the best things to say about you either. But I think I know you both quite well. And I think you’ve both got bigger things weighing on you right now which have clouded your personalities. I’m not saying you should go ahead and become best buds right away. Just… keep an open mind.”

Yuri remained quiet, not sure how she felt about what Yoongi had just said. It annoyed her that her friend didn’t appear to be on her side completely.

“I can see that you aren’t liking what I’m saying and the annoyance has already started to show on your face,” said Yoongi with a twinkle in his eye. “So I’m just going to say one last thing on the issue. The 2nd November case that Jeongguk’s been overseeing - I want you to go over it. You might be able to help.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…”

“I know that you’re scared. Your fear is completely understandable. But that’s just a part of you - maybe a bigger part than you would like, but a part nonetheless. You didn’t choose this and you definitely didn’t want this. But it’s something that you are going to have to accept eventually. The scars that are formed unknowingly, unwantedly, mistakenly - they are all part of your constellation.”

It was strange. Yoongi hadn’t told her to overcome her fears - he hadn’t even asked her exactly what it was that she was afraid of. But his words had struck a chord somewhere.

When they parted outside the station a little later, Yuri stared at her friend while trying to decide what to tell him. In the end, she settled for something professional whose meaning was deeply personal to the two of them.

“I’m sorry they demoted you.”

xxx

hey everyone! hope you’re enjoying the story so far. feel free to drop a message/ask if you have any questions/thoughts on the story.

#jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #bts fic #namjoon #taehyung #jimin #yoongi #seokjin #hoseok #c me write bangtan #btsbookclub

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