I’ve Been In Absolute Tears Cry Laughing At This For The Past 15 Minutes.

just in time : s.r

returning the stones isn’t steve’s only mission whilst he’s gone; he has one final mission of his own - to find his long lost lover, you, before it’s too late (2.5k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Panting heavily, you bend down, resting your hands on your thighs as you feel a burn course through them whilst Bucky laughs at you.

“Did you seriously run here?” Bucky asks, Steve now facing you too, surprised to see you.

Holding a finger up, you take one final deep breath before composing yourself. “Of course,” You breathe out. “I didn’t wanna miss the start of it, had to get here on time.” You smile, practically beam to Steve who shyly smiles back.

“I mean you’re fifteen minutes late, doll.” Bucky comments, ignoring Steve’s weak punch to his arm. “Sorry.”

“You haven’t missed a thing, Y/n.” Steve assures you as he steps forward, holding his arm out as his jacket swarms his upper body.

Despite the mud coating the hem of your skirt that hides various bruises and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead, Steve still adores you completely, no matter how often you’re late for things.

“I’d be honoured.” You giggle, looping your arm with Steve’s as the three of you make your way into the dance hall. 

Standing on the podium, Steve can feel his grip tightening on the case as Bruce, Sam and Bucky watch him closely.

“Ready Cap?” Bruce calls out as Steve’s suit changes to white and red, contrasting the previous dark tones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here.” He adds, and Steve nods.

It’s the moment he’s anticipated for too long, ever since he woke up from the ice.

Keep reading

The Haikyuu Boys Walk

in on Miss Manager Changing

Karasuno x Female Manager; Fukurodani x Female Manager

Warnings: invasion of privacy (please always knock before entering), mentions of female clothing (bras, panties), staring, idk what else to put 🤣

AN: This is a request from Karasuno Anon! I love all my headcannons but this one made me giggle 🤣

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

Karasuno

First off, it's the whole team who walks in 🤣

Literally a freaking trickle effect

🌟It starts something like this 🌟

It's almost the end of practice

You, Yachi and Kiyoko are talking and comparing notes while the guys finish up

Ukai tells you that you three can go change because the boys can handle the clean up

Plus, Ukai knows you deserve a break 👏🏻

On your way out, Kiyoko says she's going to make copies of the notes

Yachi asks to go along because why the heck not 😅

You decide to go ahead and change

You are in the midst of taking you pants off when you hear voices outside the door 👂🏻

You don't think much of it because the boys club room is right next door

That is 👀 until you hear the voices stop outside the door

Now, I know what your thinking 🤚🏻

It wasn't planned

Because it's not Tanaka and Noya, oh no no no it's Hinata and Kageyama 🤣

"Crappy-yama you are no better than the great king"- Hinata

"Shut up you human Tangerine! I'm way better than that loser Oikawa"- Kageyama

They are arguing about none other than the man, the myth, the legend himself 🙌🏻

Unfortunately they neglect the fact that they have stopped one door short 👀

As in, in front of the female changing room 👀

So when the door opens and you meet the eyes of Hinata and Kags

Oh boy 🤦‍♂️

First off, you reach to cover yourself

Let's say you were just in your bra and panties when they walked in

You 👉🏻 grab a towel and yell "what the hell you two get OUT!"

Hinata and Kags 👉🏻👁👄👁

You 👉🏻 STOP STARING AND GET OUTTT!!!

Hinata and Kags 👉🏻👁👄👁

Needless to say, you screaming did not affect them

But it did reach the ears of a few others

Tanaka and Noya come running 🏃‍♂️

No way is someone going to mess with their precious YN

They stop outside the door 🧍‍♂️ 🧍‍♂️ and gawk at you 😵😵

Literal jaws on the floor, drool flowing GAWK

you 👉🏻 WILL YOU ALL KINDLY LEAVE ME TO CHANGE IN PEACE

Hinata, Kags, Noya and Tanaka 👉🏻👁👄👁

You 👉🏻 I WILL PUNCH YOU ALL IN THE FACE IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE

message not received YN they just stare 😳

Luckily for you, Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita are not far behind

Not sure if that's luck or karma 😅

Daichi hears you shout and RUNS 🏃‍♂️ to see the 4 idiots starting at you

Daichi will freak

"STOP STARING AT YN SHES NAKED"- Daichi

"Yn's Naked? Jesus YN close the door!"- Suga

"I did close the door! Hinata and Kageyama walked in on me!"- you

"It was an accident! Kageyama distracted me"- Hinata

"I did not!!"- Kageyama

They literally break our into a fight in the doorway 🙄

You are still standing there in your towel

Ennoshita reacts and shoves a still gaping Tanaka and Noya out the door

Literally the door is shutting and Tanaka and Noya are just like

🚪 👁👄👁

Asahi is shouting apologizes through the door and Narita says they should get you a lock

Tsukki and Yams pull up and are unfazed

Literally this is like a daily occurrence

When Kiyoko and Yachi come back, Kiyoko steps over Hinata and Kags

Who are now rolling on the floor fighting 😅

"Did they walk in on you again YN?"- Kiyoko

Yachi just looks from you to Kiyoko

"They've done this before?"- Yachi

"It's a weekly occurrence"- you 🤣

You'll never know peace YN 🥰

Fukurodani

It's Bokuto

It's always Bokuto 🤣

Seriously, the whole team has to be on top if their game simply because of Bokuto

They have no other choice

You're the newest manager for the powerhouse known as Fukurodani

And also Bokuto's babysitter

Seriously, we've established this before

You were strictly hired to care for Bokuto

He is simply too much work for Akaashi 😅

However, Bokuto has now developed a slight attachment to you YN

He literally can't go 1 hour without seeing you

You've become the mans muse YN 🥰

He's so freaking cute and I'm so jealous 😭

Anyways, it's late and practice is coming to an end

Bokuto has been going an hour on his spikes and it's time to shut 👏🏻 it 👏🏻 down 👏🏻

"Bokuto sweetie it's time to put the volleyballs away now"- you

"Yn noooo" Bokuto 🥺

Akaashi doesn't understand but he trusts the process 😅

"Bo, you know you'll hurt yourself if you keep going. Hey how about this? We walk home together and stop for something to eat?"- you

This man is food driven and I needn't say more 🍙

So while Bokuto is running around cleaning up the gym because he has so so SO much energy

You tell Akaashi you're going to change and will meet him and Bokuto out front

Akaashi hears this, comprehends this and files it away

Bokuto does not hear this, comprehend nor file anything 🤣

So when Akaashi is headed to the changing room with Bokuto

Bokuto suddenly gets a great idea

"Akaashiiii let's go for Ramen!!! I love that idea! I'm going to tell YN right now!"- Bokuto

It takes .03 seconds for Akaashi to realize what Bokuto is about to do

Unfortunately for him, it only takes Bokuto .029999 seconds to act 😂

The door to the girls changing room SLAMS open

There you are, standing in a towel right after your shower 🚿

It's a classic case of 🎶 when he looks at me, and I look at him and he looks at me, AND I LOOK AT HIMMMM 🎶

Bokuto 👉🏻🤪😐😳😲

You 👉🏻 BOKUTO WHAT THE HELL

Akaashi will literally cover his eyes, pull Bokuto out by the collar of his shirt and shut the door

All while his hand covers his eyes 🙈

Mans is exceptional 💅

Bokuto will just stand there staring at the door

Legit this is the first time he realized you were a girl, like an ACTUAL girl 🤣

"Bokuto you can't just run into the girls changing room! That's such a huge violation of privacy!"- Akaashi

Bokuto is still staring at the door

"Come on let's go get changed and then you can think of a way to make it up to YN"- Akaashi, now staring to walk away

"Bokuto are you coming?"- Akaashi, turning around to see Bokuto STILL STARING AT THE DOOR 🚪

"Akaashi..."

"Yeah..."

"I think Im in love" ☺️ Bokuto

Well, at least Bokuto's emo modes are taken care of for the foreseeable future

All thanks to YN 🤗

you can only reblog this today. if you even care

Your writing will always feel awkward to you, because you wrote it.

Your plot twists will always feel predictable, because you created them.

Your stories will always feel a bit boring to you, because you read them a million times.

They won't feel like that for your reader.

【呪術廻戦】ドットアニメーション「廻送電車」【作業用BGM】

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my girlfriend," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

Steve, coming out of the closet: I don’t like… women.

Tony, mouth agape:

Thor: yoU ARE A MISOGYNIST?!

He wants to be your Valentine 🖤

Imagine: Bucky wants to be your valentine 💝

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Written on my phone.

Warnings: Fluff

Bucky met you a few weeks ago at an all night diner, the kind with cheap greasy food prepared by a grizzled chef, who's been around longer than you been alive, putting out meals that tastes better than any so called five star restaurant could ever make.

It had been raining that first night, the pattering on the glass window by your booth was mesmerizing, soothing.

You didn't notice him then but he noticed you.

You were tapping a French fry on your lips, eyes focused on the sheets of raining falling so hard they bounced on the ground.

He noticed your 'not quite a smile'-twist of your lips you gave to the man across from you. How you withdrew your hand when he touched you. He noticed how you slouched in the seat, deflating when he spoke to you. How the life seemed to drain from your eyes when you looked away from the window.

He came back the next night. You were back in the same booth wearing ceil blue scrubs, the man across from you in jeans and a hoodie. Your eyes landed on Bucky, catching him mid stare. Bucky felt embarrassed until you smiled at him. You stared back as if you were trying to place him, unable to break away until jackass across from you snapped his fingers in your face.

He listened to argument that followed, silently agreeing with everything you said. While he hates that you're upset and is more than willing to shove jackass through the window, you're holding your own, snapping off fiery retorts.

He likes that.

He likes you.

Two more nights pass, and he finds himself back at the diner, giving a not so nonchalant shrug when the waitress, Martha, according to her cracked name tag, gives him a knowing look and a " the food ain't that good, son."

He sits one booth closer. You're alone tonight, an open book beside your plate. More fries, more lip tapping. You must be at a good part in your book because you've been biting into that fry for five minutes now.

It's cute. He likes that too.

When Martha sets his food down a little too hard you look up at the clatter. He's staring again, he should work on that. He was the world's best assassin for 70 some years yet he keeps getting caught by you.

He kinda likes that. Cant say why.

The idea of you getting one up on him is intriguing.

You give him a shy smile, ducking your head before he can respond. He turns back to his food. You pick up your book.

Martha groans.

A few weeks pass, you stop by every night, sometimes in scrubs, other times in jeans or legging. He doesn't care. You're pretty in everything.

Every so often, he sits one booth closer. Each time, you look over the top of your book and stare. Waiting for something, the same thing he's waiting for. You both know yet it ends the same each time. He reads the menu for the hundredth time and you find a new fry to tap against your lips.

One night he was approaching the diner, he saw you in your spot with the same worn book in your hand. He didn't notice Martha forcing two truck drivers three times her size out of the booth next to yours.

She grabbed his hand before the door shut closed, the little bell still dinging when she pushed him down on to the smooth leather seats. She shoved herself next to him, grabbing the super soldier by the ear, hissing. "I dont have time for this, you go and talk to her tonight, you understand me son."

She's gone before he can respond. Your abrupt giggle is music to his sore ears-one of them very sore. It was a short and low noise but he heard it. He peers over the booth, chin sliding over cracked vinyl. There you are. Your face buried in the book, your cheeks puffed out as you try not laugh, your shoulders shaking. It's cute.

He really likes that. He wishes he could hear more of your laughter.

But he slumps back down. Ignoring the death glares from Martha. The chef, Frank, throwing up his stained apron before stomping back into the kitchen.

He's almost home when it hits him. Jerkface hasn't been back for a while now. Oh, he likes that. He loves that. Maybe. No. But then again, you might like him. No. Maybe. Things were easier in the 40's.

But they didn't make em like you in the 40's

The next night, the diner is the same except for the large tacky pink heart glued to the front door. Happy Valentines Day scrawled on the front in black sharpie.

Valentines Day.

His heart drops, you wouldn't be here tonight, you probably have a date. He turns to leave, searching his pocket for his keys.

"Oh no, you don't son."

Bucky can punch through a car without a second thought. Kick a man 60 feet in the air but he can't stop a chubby 5'1" old woman with arthritic hands from yanking him inside an even older diner.

She shoves him into your booth, startling both of you. Slapping her wrinkled hands on the table, pointing at him. "You talk to her today gahdamn it and that asshole she was dating made her cry." She leans her small chubby face into his, more threatening than anyone he's fought before. "You make her cry, ill kill you". She could, she really could.

Martha points that finger at you and you nearly flinch. "And you, get over that asshole, you were too good for him, good riddance, stop hiding behind this book, you and I both know you're not reading it and talk to him." She ends her rant with another slap on the table, taking your book from your hands.

With matching wide eyes, you both stare as she walks away, shouting, "and don't bother me, I'm not bringing you food until I feel like it."

Bucky turns back to you with a shaky breathy. He's rehearsed meeting you many times in his head, even planning it with Sam. This was not in any of his scenarios. He's trying not to panic. This is scarier than any battle. He drums his fingers on the table. You tap your toes on the edge on the booth, shaking your leg.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He thinks about what old him would say to you. Then again old him is gone and new him, well, he wants you to like new him.

"I'm James but friends call me Bucky"

You smile, a burst of literal sunshine, he can feel his face warming from it or it could be his nerves easing a bit, he really can't tell. Maybe a little of both when you say, "Hi Bucky."

He likes that. His name on your tongue.

He talks and listens, you do the same. A slow hesitant dance, both stumbling and stepping on each other until a rhythm clicks in place. Then you really talk, a conversation building, time nonexistent, secrets spill and he learns more about you than he imagined he would.

Then you laugh, he’s not sure how he did it but damn it he wants try again and see if works.

It does.

He makes you laugh again. And then again. Over a plate burgers that an ecstatic, kinda smug Martha slide in between you two during a debate over why he should upgrade his phone. A flip phone is not new tech, Bucky. What do you mean you only need to call people, that's not what phones are for anymore.

Then the topic winds around to jerkface and you sigh. A watery forlorn shimmer in your eyes, for a second he wonders if you miss him. Then you explain what he did to you with your best friend.

Bucky moves around to your side, putting his arm around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, whispering "some mess I am huh?"

He kissed the top of your head, "nah I think you're fantastic, doll." The endearment slipping out.

You like it.

"You don't know me," you protest as if you're not pushing your face closer to take a deeper whiff of his cologne.

"Then tell me about you," he retorts, "because I already like you,"

By the time, Martha deems you worthy of deserts, a piece of cake and slice of pie, one milkshake with two straws and a rather vulgar wink, you know him and he knows you.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He smiles with a smudge of whip cream across his kissable lips.

He promises to call you tomorrow and before you get home, your phone buzzes. "Good night, doll"

Another buzz by the time you get in bed. "You're right about the phone it took me 20 minutes to send you that text message."

The second date was spent an Apple store. The third at the movies, the forth was a walk in the park, an actual walk in the park-he's bit old-fashioned after all, the fifth was ambushed by his friends much to his indignation and your delight. By the sixth date, you were head over heels for him.

Martha and Frank invited themselves to your wedding before you had the chance to ask them. Actually before he even proposed they planned out the entire thing on an old menu and some napkins.

Each year you spend Valentines Day in your booth. With him. Over a plate of greasy fries and laughter.