#'oh god this brings back memories' ROGER PLS

[a-swiss-and-a-spaniard]

Roger getting the giggles/ending in a laughing fit while trying to film a commercial is one of my favorite genres of Roger

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

part 02/015 “she loves the wind in her hair”

masterlist

previous part // next part

work count 3k

an: yall i legit am so emotional over this part?? i wanted to capture the innocence that it still there about howard and maria, and really just reminisce in all that.. it’s emotional. its a tear jerker honestly. pls lemme know what you think.

“This isn't really a negotiation,” Steve said first. Both were still in their positions, him in this chair and you on the other side of the room on the bed. You stared at him plainly, but shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not talking about it unless he’s in here,” you replied, pressing the pillow tighter into your chest. 

Steve understood, but the SHIELD agents on the other side of the two way mirror wouldn’t. They had said no already, but you were stubborn. Hard headed. Just like Tony. Just like Howard too. It made him feel giddy on the inside while keeping that straight face on the outside. It also made him consider how well minded you were considering all the years you were with Hydra.

“So we have two options, either he’s in here and I tell you everything you want to know, or we can sit here and play this staring game,” you paused tilting your head, “which is it going to be Captain?”

Oh you were good. Your face showed no sign of emotion, and he knew you weren’t bluffing, not in the slightest. His face matched yours, but he was the first to break the eye contact and looked to the two way mirror. He didn’t mind Tony being in here, so if they would just get their heads out of their asses, this could move on a lot smoother. He knew Tony wanted to hear your story, and he did too in all honesty. He wanted to know what you remembered from that night.

There was a click at the door, and both you and Steve shot up. You stayed in your place and you both watched as the door opened and Tony came in. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but a small smile played on our lips. You wanted to run to him and hug him but your legs kept you there.

You were scared.

Tony’s gaze was on you as he took a step inside the room. His orders were to keep his distance, they didn’t know if you were dangerous, if this was all a play to get close to him and kill him. But he knew you could never, but on the other hand he didn’t need them to pull him out of this room. He needed to be here. Steve motioned for him to take the chair he had once occupied and Tony nodded, slowly taking a seat. You mimicked his motions and sat back onto the bed, hugging the pillow once more.

Steve could see the look in your eyes change when Tony had entered, they softened, and he couldn’t tell if the way your eyes were wet meant you were going to cry. No, he didn’t think you would, you wanted to be strong for him. For Tony. Steve took his place against the wall, letting the two siblings focus on one another.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Steve asked. Your eyes went to him, reading his face. His face was soft and made you feel safe. You could share the story with him, and whoever else was behind that mirror. You looked back to Tony.

“My memory of that night is..not the best,” you started in a whisper, “I remember daddy driving fast down this road, mommy was telling him to slow down. She never liked it when he drove fast with me in the car,” you remembered. Tony smiled to himself at the memory. He had forgotten how their mother would playfully slap Howard on the shoulder and tell him to drive like it was Sunday. Howard would toss a smile over his shoulder to his daughter in the back seat and wink saying something along the lines of “she loves the wind in her hair” or anything to get a giggle from you.

“Everything happened so fast, one minute we were on the road, the next all I saw was flames. It hurt,” you paused, rubbing at your wrists, “the glass had cut me, the seatbelt felt like it was..choking me. I remember unbuckling myself and trying to reach the front seat but I can’t remember past that anymore. It just ends.”

Steve nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes watched you talk, and occasionally he would look to Tony to gauge his reactions. But Tony was in a state he had never really seen. He was just listening.

“The next thing I really remember was waking up in a room like this, but smaller,” you glanced around, “there was a woman there. She told me I was in an accident, and they were going to help me feel better. I asked them where my mom and dad were, and they told me that they would be there soon. And then I asked if my brother was coming too,” you paused and averted your eyes to the ground, “they told me he would be there soon too, he couldn’t wait to see me.”

You smiled sadly to yourself, “They did help me feel better. But each day passed, and no one came. I kept asking how much longer it would be before I could go home and she would smile and tell me soon. Just the word soon. But that changed quickly. I don’t know what they did to me but I can’t.. I can’t remember those next few years. They’re just gone.

I was in Paris when someone approached me on a covert mission, they told me I was beautiful and that I looked like this man. She handed me a magazine and on the cover was you,” you nodded at Tony, “They said it was the craziest coincidence and I thanked them. They let me keep the magazine. My first offense with them was when I went dark and sat in a cafe to use a laptop and researched everything there was about Tony Stark. And it hit me like a train. All those memories came back, and they did not like that. 

I was interrogated for days, I knew because they had taught me how to measure time by where the sun and moon positioned itself. They thought I couldn’t see it but the tiny crack in the window was just enough. They kept asking me what I knew and I said everything. They didn’t like that.”

You sighed, “On the last day they brought a laptop in, and when they opened it there was a feed. I couldn’t see straight, but it was you. You were on the screen, giving some kind of press release junk, and they could see me relax. They told me that one of their people was there now. You’re easily accessible and they could kill you in a second's notice if I ever tried to leave or contact you.”

Tony was quiet as he watched tears swell in your eyes, “I don’t.. I don’t want you to think I didn’t try, God, Tony I wanted to. But they would kill you. They often reminded me of that, that you would be gone just like mom and dad,” you felt the tear fall, “when I remembered it all that’s all I could think of. Everyday I thought about you. I thought about how you’d hold my hand when we’d go on those walks to the park, until people started to notice and you’d pick me up and run as fast as your legs could take you. We’d hide behind that huge old tree stump in the Peterson’s yard until the coast was clear, and then when we would make it to the park you’d push me round and round on the merry go round until I got sick.

I thought about how you’d try and come into my room quietly when I was sleeping when you’d get home late from your fancy school, and lay in bed with me. You always thought you were so sneaky but the truth was I was waiting up for you those nights. Mom would let it slip you were coming home and I left the door wide open for you those nights. You’d kiss my head and whisper goodnight and fall asleep and I would too.”

Tony’s eyes were tearing up at that point, Steve’s too in fact. You smiled sadly to yourself and locked eyes with Tony, “I just want you to know that everyday I thought about how much I loved and missed you, mom, and dad.”

Tony shook his head, and he stood making his way over to you. Tears had fallen down your cheeks and he kneeled in front of you and wiped them away with his thumbs, “You don’t have to tell me, I know. I know how much they loved you, and how much I love you.” You nodded as he spoke and he took you into his arms, and this time you wrapped your arms around him too.

Steve Rogers watched the scene unfolding around him, and a pang of guilt filled his stomach.

—————

There were images coming in from all over the world. Tony had taken it upon himself to run your face through facial recognition technology to learn when and where you were all these years. None of them were state side, but you had popped up in Berlin, Paris (like you had mentioned), various parts of Russia, and the list continued. Each picture he could see your face changing, getting older and older, and even hidden under different hairstyles and clothing from rags to the most beautiful of fabric, your eyes still stayed the same. Even if some images were fuzzy.

He rubbed his face and glanced at his watch. It was 2 am. He had stayed with you for most of the day and into the late hours of the night until you had grown tired. You both laid in that bed, his arm around you and your head rested on his side, and he listened to you fall asleep. You looked so calm, and he kissed your head and carefully peeled himself from your sleeping body. He didn’t want to leave you, but he had to get to work on being able to bring you home with him.

Home. Where would that be exactly? The tower didn’t feel like a good fit, but he also no longer had his home in Malibu. He was working on something in northern New York, maybe he could have you help him with that. You had always been creative when they were younger, he thought he picked up a thing or two from you. With Pepper running Stark Industries, he could use a woman’s touch.

Either way, he had fought with the agents about letting him take you with him as soon as possible. They didn’t agree with him on the idea that he should take an obviously trained secret agent back under his care, without the finishing reconditioning being complete. He obviously didn’t agree and said that you’d be leaving with him whether they liked it or not. They said that if he tried that then not only would you be considered a threat, but he would too. He believes they knew that would make him think twice about his next actions and unfortunately they were right.

He couldn’t put you in harm's way. Never again.

Tony stood from the desk he was occupying and stretched his back. He was sure Pepper was asleep, but maybe she’d be awake for him to talk things through with her. She had become his voice of reasoning, and if she wasn’t there then that fell on Rogers. Or Romanoff. He had already asked so much from Steve though, and of course he couldn’t wake him up this late. Old men needed their sleep.

Tony made his way back to the room he was given, it was small but it worked for the time being. He slid a card against the panel on the side and the door opened automatically, and he smiled at the sight of Pepper sitting upright and working on something in her lap.

“You’re up late,” he commented, walking in and unbuttoning his shirt. Pepper smiled at him, setting her things to the side as he crawled into bed. Tony rested his head in her lap, and she began to stroke his hair.

“I could say the same for you,” she threw back and him and he grabbed her other hand to kiss it, “what’s going on in that mind of yours, Tony?”

On the other side of things, you had woken up in a sweat. The room lights turned on low when you had shot awake. You desperately threw the blankets off of you and rested your arms on your legs to breathe deeply. The nightmare wasn’t new to you, but with the past days events fresh in your mind, something just bothered you more about it.

The door beeped, which you related to someone being there. You didn’t know if they lingered to give you a moment to compose yourself, but when it opened the person in the doorway was..surprising. Steve Rogers took one step in before pausing, as if looking for permission.

“Captain Rogers,” you managed and he took that as an invitation to come in, “you have impeccable timing.”

“I was-“ he cleared his throat, realizing how this was going to sound, “I was in the other room, going over today when I heard you wake up. I wanted to check on you.”

You nodded, more to yourself than him. You ran a hand through your dirty hair and sighed.

“I had a nightmare.” You said simply. Steve nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“When I came out of the ice, it took me awhile to readjust to life, I still am in a way,” he started, “I think the hardest thing was sleeping in a soft bed after that many years. It’s—“

“— not normal,” you said in unison. He nodded and you offered a sad smile.

“Do you still have them?” You asked, and Steve shook his head without hesitation.

“Sometimes, not as much anymore.”

You looked from him then to the bed you were sitting on, and you motioned to him, “Would you like to sit?”

That took him by surprise. You looked at him with kind and curious eyes, and he felt himself drawn to that. But a part in his mind told him to tread cautiously, but he nodded and took the steps closer to you. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“I spent a lot of my time thinking about how different my life would’ve been if I wasn’t in that car that night,” you started off, your fingers tracing lines on the fabric covering your legs. Steve found himself watching, and listening to you speak.

“Tony he’s gone on to do great things, and even become a superhero to others other than me,” you chuckled to yourself, but it stopped and so did your fingers, Steve’s eyes went back to your face, “what’s going to happen to me?”

You asked him honestly, your eyes locking with his. Steve didn’t know how to answer in all honesty. The thing was no one knew what exactly you had done all these years. You mentioned missions, and he had also seen the way you reacted to certain things. Were you like Bucky? Or something else? His silence to your question made you continue.

“Captain Rogers—“

“Steve. You can call me Steve.”

You nodded, “Steve,” you tested and he offered a nod, “the things that I’ve done won’t be taken well by people. I’ve extorted world leaders, tortured people for information, and.. have had to go to extreme lengths to cover my tracks. Murder wasn’t off the table,” you said the last part in almost a whisper, “I didn’t want to do those things but I wanted to stay alive. But now my greatest fear is being locked in here. Never being free.”

Steve carefully placed a hand over yours, and you looked at him with curiosity. He was comforting you.

“I promise that Tony would not let that happen to you,” he paused, unsure if what he was about to say was too much, “and I promise that I won’t let that happen to you.”

You smiled, and it made him smile in return, “You are a kind man, Steve Rogers.”

“Everyone deserves to live their life freely. I had a friend back in my time,” he paused and released your hand, but you turned to him to listen with all your attention, “I thought he died back then. When Hydra was found out, I learned that he survived, and they had taken him too.”

“He’s alive?”

Steve nodded, “He’s gone off the radar. I’ve been trying to find him but he’s good. Too good. Every lead we’ve gotten runs cold eventually.”

“Does he have a name?” You asked and Steve nodded.

“His name is James, or I called him Bucky. His covert name was the Winter Soldier.”

He watched your face to see if you had any reaction, but you just furrowed your brow in confusion, “I’ve never heard of him.”

He felt relief leaving his body, but he nodded instead, “All I want is to find him and help him.”

You tilted your head at him, “You want to help others, but what about you? You said you’re still readjusting to things.”

Steve nodded, and took a deep breath and offered a smile, “I learn as I go.”

You nodded, “Will you help me? Can we learn together?”

Two people, two very different situations. But he believed that you, just like his friend Bucky, deserved your freedom. Your life back. He made a promise to himself right there in that instance that he was going to do everything in his power to get you out of there and help you see your life freely again.

He would damn well make sure it happens.

Steve nodded, and you smiled at him like there was no tomorrow. He was going to make sure you got out of here.

----------

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@elliee1497​ @iizabxlla​ @bulbasor-charmander-2020 @littlemoistcarrot​ 

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.2

Q & A… or more like Q & more Q

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)    x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3050

Summary: Team Free Will (Dean, Sam and Cas) try to explain the situation and they are not all that great at it. Your amnesia isn’t exactly helping; the words tattooed on your body might.

Warnings: swearing, mention of death, mention of blood, amnesia, Team Free Will being themselves

The briefest guide to SPN characters of Team Free Will (at the end of the post)

Story masterlist

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An ominous silence fell on the motel room for what felt like minutes. The woman was watching them with a mixture of emotions so complicated it was hard to identify them all; but there sure was fear, confusion and hope to be waking up from whatever insane dream this was.

To be fair, Sam wished for the same thing.

Neither of them had such luck.

He blinked several times, but the image remained the same. Wonderful.

“Oh. So we have a Jane Doe,” Dean stated with a sarcastic smile. “With amnesia. That’s… really great, Cas. Thanks for that.”

Both Sam and Castiel shot him a look of disapproval.

“Who are you? Why… why do I look like I’m wearing your clothes?” her trembling voice asked, her gaze shifting from one man to another.

“Cause you are wearing mine,“ Dean hummed proudly and Sam was just so done with the company he kept.

“And why can’t I… why can’t I remember anything?” she sobbed, watching them with terrified and absolutely perplexed eyes.

Sam decided to speak up before any of his tactless companions could. “We don’t know. But I promise you, we’ll do everything to help you.”

“You were… you were soaked in blood,” she choked out, her whole body shaking. Sam grimaced. Well, that… yeah, he imagined that freaked her out even more and he couldn’t blame her. Amnesia, supernatural powers on display, their pathetic explanations… “And he just… snapped his fingers and-“

“Yeah. The truth is, we didn’t quite find you on a side of the road and we’ll get to that. It’s hard to explain and I know this must be so much to wrap your head around, but like I said. We want to help you,” Sam whispered in earnest, holding her gaze and adding what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Are you… aliens?” she breathed out sheepishly, but lost the deadly grip on the covers that had been keeping her knuckles white.

Dean snorted, while Castiel simply answered her. “No. They’re humans. I’m an angel of the Lord.”

Sam hid his face in his palms and let out a silent whine.

“Are you guys crazy?” she continued her questions, eyeing them warily. Sam could tell she had no idea what to think. She had seen Castiel’s powers already. “Or are you messing with me? Am I drugged? I should probably just go-”

“You have no ID, no wallet, no memory and your face looks like you ran away from a costume party for firemen. I don’t think you should be going anywhere, sweetcheeks,” Dean deadpanned, causing the woman to inhale sharply, but not to respond as she realized she had been delivered the harsh truth.

Well, if Dean decided to be the ass of the three of them it looked like Sam had to be the nice guy; just like most of the time after all.

“Are you hungry? We can order something. And you can take a shower-“

“I could just-“ Castiel interrupted and Sam cut him off with a pointed look.

“You can take a shower. I’ll get you a clean towel, alright? And… clean clothes,” Sam hurried, reaching for something from his own-

“Dude. You have a sasquatch size. Just grab something mine… again.”

Alright, that was a good point; maybe they should have thought it through in the first place, cleaning her up with Cas powers as well before dressing her up. Well. Too late.

Sam smiled at the woman apologetically and she unsurely tried to reciprocate the gesture – it came out looking more like a grimace really, but he appreciated the effort and trust.

“You’re… you’re not gonna hurt me, are you?” she asked in weak voice, cautiously climbing from the bed.

“Don’t worry, Fire Princess,” Dean grinned at her, adding a wink and she hesitantly smiled back.

“What…? Please, don’t call me that… or that,�� she murmured and Dean rolled her eyes.

“What do we call you then? Until we figure it out?” Castiel inquired gently.

“I’ll… think about it. But… I think I’d like Natasha. I don’t think it’s my name, but… I like it,” she admitted sheepishly and Sam nodded, handing her a pile of clothes and a towel with a spare toothbrush.

“Natasha it is.”

The moment the door clicked behind her, Sam sat down on the bed heavily.

“What are we gonna do?”

“I’d say drop her on the nearest police station, but…” Dean started, only for Castiel to finish.

“…I brought her back from death. I was told to bring her here and take care of her for a reason.”

Dean just pointed a finger at him, smirking as if he wanted to say ‘exactly’.

“And what the reason might be?” Sam asked, not expecting an answer at all. They never got the answers they wanted.

“I don’t know. But…”

“But? Cas?”

Castiel frowned, staring in the direction of the bathroom as if he could see through, watching the woman and hoping to figure her out. The shower started running and Castiel’s gaze shifted back to Sam and Dean.

“But she has a soulmark.”

“A what now?” Dean asked, his forehead crinkled in confusion.

“She has a soulmate?” Sam blurted out, pleasantly surprised for multiple reasons.

That could be a great clue! And also a bummer, because there was someone out there, who had lost their soulmate to what could be a house fire. Sam always liked the idea of the soul bond, rather wounded he didn’t have a soulmate himself. Seeing what he did for living though, it was probably for the best.

“I thought soulmates were just a fairy tale,” Dean exclaimed, dubious. “You’re telling me it’s a thing? Because cupids aren’t enough?”

“Pretty common, actually,” Sam sassed him, remembering the one time they had encountered with a cupid… and Dean punched him in his face. Good times.

“Can you use the mark to find her soulmate?” Sam queried, hopeful.

When Castiel sighed in response, the brothers got their answer.

“I can’t, unfortunately.”

“Of course it doesn’t work like that,” Dean muttered under his breath, falling backwards into his own bed. Right. Beds. There were only two. Shit. The couch in the room was tiny. Plus, she might not be comfortable sleeping in the same room as them – not that she would get a choice. God, Sam just wanted to sleep.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam groaned, running his hand down his face. “In the morning.”

“You think she’s gonna sleep?”  Dean questioned, making space between his feet to see Sam when he raised his head.

“Doubt it, actually. We should prepare for the ‘monsters are real’ talk.”

Dean whined.

“If don’t want to do it, I can-“

“No!” the brothers cried out in unison, causing Castiel to flinch.

“But... you should stay here for it. ‘Cause angels? Good impression. Ever when they can be dicks…” Dean added and Sam rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching. “Hey, can’t you search her mind or something? That would be helpful!”

“I can try,” Castiel replied in mild voice. Sam didn’t believe it could be so easy, but hey, there was usually no harm in trying, right? “Even though I doubt it will work either.”

“Yeah, because that would be too easy.”

“We’ll see,” Sam breathed out, lost in thoughts. Soulmates. What a case. “We need to not to break her trust first.”

“Looking forward to it,” Dean remarked sarcastically as he went to the fridge for a beer and Sam couldn’t quite blame him.

Yeah, he did too.

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She took her time with cleaning up – not that Sam could blame her. He was confident she was also trying to reconcile with what she had learned so far and mostly with what she hadn’t. They all had been there, having their brain scrambled in some way and they knew it wasn’t exactly walk in a park.

While Dean and Castiel went hunting for food, Sam busied himself with searching information on soulmates so he wouldn’t fall asleep. They had never encountered such thing before, which was about as convenient as surprising; after all, soulmates weren’t that rare. He even tried to look into some websites that claimed to be able to find one’s soulmate when being told their words. Hell, Sam even started considering finding one of those dubious forums in which people posted ideas about their other half’s expected words based on the ones they had on their skin.

Of course, they didn’t know Natasha’s words yet.

She emerged from the bathroom, steam following her. Her hair was dripping wet, her figure swimming in Dean’s clothes. Sam attempted not to think about the lack of undergarment; they would have to go shopping. A lot.

The woman smiled at him reluctantly, the gesture not quite reaching her red-rimmed eyes. Sam’s heart clenched; she had been crying in the shower.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” she murmured, her voice weak.

Sam just shook his head, returning the smile. “That’s fine. How do you feel?”

‘Natasha’ gave an uncertain shrug. “Better than before the shower. I… uhm, I found out I have tattoos. Do you think it might be helpful?”

Before Sam could process her words, Dean and Castiel returned with the groceries.

“Hey. How we’re doing? Magically remembered everything? Please tell me you did…” Dean hummed, clearly not serious. Sam shot him a withering look and he grinned in return. “No? Sorry, just had to make sure…”

Castiel put the plastic bags down, meeting Natasha’s gaze. “We weren’t sure about what you’d like… we have both, the good stuff as Dean calls it and ‘rabbit food’.”

Sam rolled his eyes, not at all surprised at the woman’s confused gaze.

“He means fruit and vegetables.”

“Oh. Thank you. I… I’m not sure either,” she admitted with a sigh, her eyes getting glassy.

Sam quickly cleared his throat, hoping to stop the waterfalls before they could start. “What were you saying before?”

“Uh, the tattoos, yes. I have them on my collarbones, one at each,” she explained, unbuttoning the upper part of the plaid shirt, enough to be able to show them and stay decent at the same time.

Sam’s mind raced as he exchanged looks with the other men. Two soulmarks then? What exactly that meant? Why couldn’t simply have an easy case for once?

Oblivious to their inner mussing, Natasha carefully pulled at the collar, revealing a set of crossed out words. The line over them surprised Sam the most as he reluctantly came closer to read the words.

“But I really am 95,” Sam read out loud, perplexed. Well. He turned to Dean and Cas before looking at Natasha. “Ideas? Anyone?”

“We might have a case of gerontophilia at our hands,” Castiel offered flatly and Sam grimaced. Please let him be wrong. “Or it could mean anything else. A hotel room number, a locker room number, order number in a fast food. Literally anything.”

Sam internally whined in frustration; he couldn’t tell which option he liked better. The one that she had been with someone that old or that this was zero clue.

Natasha sighed and showed Sam the other mark. “I hate dreams like this. Huh.”

“Cause that’s really telling,” Dean stated sarcastically, opening another bottle of beer.

“Why would I have tattoos like these?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. She didn’t know about soulmates either.

“It’s not a tattoo, not really. You were born with these – or people who have them usually are,” Sam explained, distancing himself to left her some personal space. It gave him a perfect view of her confused frown.

“I don’t understand.”

“The lines you have written on your body – they are called soulmarks. These are the first words your soulmate told you – or will tell you,” Castiel interjected softly and Natasha’s lips parted.

Sam gulped when her eyes went wide. Did she understand what it meant? Did she have any clue what was the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’ in the first place?

“Soulmates are real?!” she breathed out, astounded. “Like… someone perfect for each of us, but… actually real? These words will help me find them? That’s…” she chuckled incredulously, not noticing their stares. So she did have an idea of what a soulmate meant. “Why do I have two? Why is this one… crossed out?”

“Well, not to be a party pooper, but I’d blame dying, that might be it,” Dean suggested bluntly and Sam mentally rolled his eyes.

Sure, Dean, why beat around the bush…

“Oh?” her face visibly saddened, but then she revealed her uncrossed words. “So why do I have this one? Does that… does that mean that I have… another soulmate? Is that even possible?”

“Or you could meet your original one, supposedly for the first time, since you don’t remember… can I see both of those at once?” Sam scooted closer again, intrigued.

He squinted at the marks. It might have been only a wishful thinking, but… the handwriting looked similar.

“It looks like it’s written by one person,” the younger hunter stated, casting a questioning gaze towards Castiel. “What do you think?”

“Well, it is… unusual for a person to have two soulmates. It is not unheard of, but I only saw it few times in thousands of years of my existence, so it might be just another of their first meetings. Just like Sam said, if you don’t remember them…”

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “Firstly – is that my soulmate’s handwriting? That’s so freaking cool. Secondly… you’re that old? I mean… thousands of years?”

“Well, I am an angel,” Castiel reminded her with a gentle smile and she just shook her head, incredulous.

“Says the girl who has ‘But I’m really 95’ on her,” Dean teased her, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t think I’d be with someone who is-“

The thought struck Sam with a force of a train.

“Maybe they’re not human? I mean, that would explain why you were told to bring her back, right? This might be important-”

“What do you mean that they’re not human? Like an angel then? And bring me back? Bring me back from where?” Natasha took a step back, watching them with sudden wariness.  

“Oh, there are many different unhuman things alright.”

“…the death,” said Castiel at the same time and Sam seriously considered having them signed up for some course in communication. How about breaking things to her slowly?!

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve been dead, Natasha. I’ve been tasked to bring your soul back from Heaven,” Castiel continued, oblivious to Sam’s exasperation, but at least his voice sounded more… patient. “And we don’t know why.”

“Until now. This might be a thing,” Sam added with a sigh, watching her squirm uncomfortably as she buttoned up the shirt again, looking as if she wished for the fabric to hide all of her.

“I… I was… dead? In… in H-heaven?”

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, closely inspecting her reaction just in case she was about to a) run away or b) pass out. “We think you died in a house fire or something of that sort.”

Her face suddenly lacked colour so laboriously earned in the hot shower. Her voice was dull, emotionless. “That’s why I was… dirty.”

“And naked.”

“Dean…” Sam scolded him tiredly and his brother shrugged innocently.

“What? She was!”

Luckily – or unfortunately – Natasha chose to ignore the additional information. “I was dead?”

“Hey, that’s okay. It happens. I was dead too,” Dean informed her swiftly, causing her eyes to bulge, and not caring for boundaries he made her way to her and patted her shoulder. She didn’t even flinch when he touched her.

Apparently, openness worked as much as Sam’s lets-break-it-to-her-slowly approach. Huh. Who would have thought…. perhaps it was the combination. There was a reason they always played the good cop-bad cop combo.

“What?! Really?”

“Actually… so was Sam,” Dean pointed at the younger brother, unfazed. “But I made a deal with a demon, which caused me to die and go to Hell, literally, but Cas brought my soul back, much like he did with yours-“

“I was dead too at some point,” Castiel supplied helpfully.

That had the woman finally freeze, blank stare her only reaction. Sam threw his hands in the air. “Really, guys?”

“I’m afraid we broke her.”

“No kidding.“ Sam shot both Castiel and Dean a murderous glare before shifting his attention back to the woman. “Hey, Natasha, you okay? I know this is a lot to take in-“

“Everyone in this room was dead at some point?!” she yelped, her voice unnaturally high-pitched, making everyone flinch. Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth, dreading her reaction.

“…yeah. The world is a much stranger place then you were led to believe.”

“Not that I remember much from that…” she huffed, sitting down to a couch heavily.

“Yeah, about that. We thought Castiel could try a thing,” Sam remembered, smiling reassuringly when Natasha eyed the angel warily.

“A… a thing?”

“I’d like to try and look inside your mind,” Castiel explained, slowly approaching her, the coat dancing around his feet. “To see if I can do anything about the amnesia or at least find a clue that would lead us to someone who knew you.”

Natasha opened her mouth, no sound coming out for a while. Then she shook her head as if she was trying to get rid of some annoying thought.

“O-okay. I guess… it’s not gonna kill me again, is it?” she joked, her voice too anxious for anyone to actually laugh.

“No. Believe me, if I meet an obstacle and the only way of overcoming it would mean hurting you, I’ll stop. You can trust me, Natasha. I have no reason to cause you any harm.”

Sam was impressed; that was a good speech. Wow. Dean had been right. Angels = good impressions

“Okay. I trust you, Castiel. Do your… thing.”

Cas nodded and smiled at her briefly before placing his hands to hover next to her temples. She automatically closed her eyes with a deep inhale.

“Alright. Tell me if anything hurts…”

The familiar glow of angel grace wrapped her scalp. The brothers held their breath, eyes flickering between the angel and the woman.

Natasha’s features hardened, but she didn’t let out a sound. If she was in pain, it was either bearable or paralysing. Sam really hoped for the first option.

It didn’t even take a minute. Castiel’s hands fell to his sides and he stepped back, his lips in a frustrated line.

“Nothing?” Dean wanted to know, but they all both had a hunch that the question was rhetorical. The answer was written all over Castiel’s face.

The angel only shook his head. “No. Nothing.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 3

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

I’m having fun... are you? ;) Thank you for reading!

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Tags: @cxptain​ @smilexcaptainx​ , @murdermornings​ @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall​ @eliza5616​ @rayofdawnworld @victor-criss-bish​ @skychild29​  @elysianecho​ @simmisblog​ @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​, @sergeantrosabellaswan​ @songofcosplay​, @ilovesupersoldiers​ @wxstedhexrt​ @silver-winter-wolf​ @guardian-tn @janieavalos  @vxidnik​, @patzammit​ , @annathesillyfriend​ and @maravderofthephoenix​ (I’m really sorry about forgetting to tag you in previous chapters)

[vxlkyrie]

everything i wanted

pairing: steve rogers x reader

genre: angst, fluff, nonavenger!au

warning: cursing, body image, bullying, mentions of suicide (pls listen to the song before reading this)

word count: 3.6k

summary: going to a high school reunion sounded like fun, until all the nightmares and bad memories started coming back

request: anon said “hii, can i request steve rogers x reader based on billie eilish song everything i wanted. thank you and have a nice day.”

a/n: i’m sorry it took so long! i don’t know why i kept scrapping every idea i had for this one, but i’m finally satisfied with this plot (i swear it’s based on the song, also peep the lyrics). it gets really sad, but i hope you all enjoy!

you were in the kitchen cooking up breakfast, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from his morning jog. suddenly, you heard the door open.

“honey, i’m home.” steve said. you laughed at the cheesy line, greeting him with a quick kiss.

“go change. breakfast is almost ready.” you told him, earning a nod from him.

“i also checked the mail.” steve said, placing a pile of envelopes and magazines onto the dining table.

as soon as you prepared two plates, you sat down and looked through the mail as you waited for your boyfriend to get ready.

bills, coupons, greeting cards from wanda and vision, files from the law firm, letter from your high school – what?!

your eyes widened as you examined the envelope that displayed your school’s name across the top.

“hey doll, whatchu looking at?” steve’s voice broke you from your thoughts. you didn’t even notice him taking his seat across from you.

“oh, uh, just something from my high school.” you said, raising an eyebrow at it.

“yeah? what is it?” he asked. 

you shrugged as you carefully rip open the top. you unfolded the paper that slipped out of the envelope.

“y/n l/n, you have been formally invited to your class’s ten-year reunion.” you read out loud. you felt your stomach twist.

“a high school reunion? that sounds like fun.” steve said as he chewed his food.

“yeah, no.” you shook your head.

“and why not?” he snickered.

“let’s just say i did not have the best experience in high school.” you simply answered. you never really told steve about your days before you went to college and he never asked.

“i’m sorry to hear that. i mean, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. but i mean, you haven’t seen these people in years.”

“i would like to keep it that way.” you quipped.

“maybe you could use this reunion as a chance to show everyone that you are not the girl you were in high school,” steve started. you recognized his ‘motivational speech’ voice coming in. “i might not know what you were like back then, but you can show them that you’ve made it – that you’re better than them. you can make them regret doubting you all those years ago.” steve explained.

“you sound like nat when she wants revenge on some guy that dumped her,” you joked about your coworker, making him laugh. “but, seeing people’s face drop is pretty fun.”

“so you’re going?”

“we’re going.” you emphasized.

-

“do you see what she’s wearing?” she whispered to a group of girls.

“yeah, it looks a little too tight on her.” another girl said as the others giggled.

“who told her that looked good on her?”

“oops, i did.” one of the girls admitted, earning even louder laughs from the group.

you wrapped your arms around your middle, feeling very insecure as you stood in the corner of the room.

i shouldn’t have went to this stupid party. i thought they were my friends.

“y/n?” a male voice called to you. you snap your head up to see steve looking down at you.

“s-steve?” your eyes widened.

what is he doing here? he can’t see me like this!

you looked up again to see the familiar group of girls and steve laughing at you.

no, please no. stop this. you tried to yell, but silence only came out of your mouth.

“stop!” you shouted, jumping up from your bed.

“doll?” steve groaned, only hearing you panting as you held your heart. “are you okay?” he sat up.

“uh, yeah. just a nightmare, i guess.” you said, melting under steve’s touch as he rubbed circles on your back.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“no,” you shook your head. “i’ll be fine, thank you though.”

“okay. now come here, we got a flight to catch early in the morning.” steve said, pulling you into his arms as you both drifted into slumber.

-

as much as your body (and steve) wanted you to, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep on the plane. you haven’t had nightmares like that since before you started college. you thought after graduation, you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone from high school ever again. but now that you’re going to be seeing them after ten whole years, your brain couldn’t help but bring back memories.

all of your friends turning their backs on you after one small mistake.

“how could you do that to me? i trusted you!” she yelled at you.

“it was a mistake! i didn’t mean to tell him, it just slipped. i’m sorry!” you said, tears brimming your eyes. “can’t we just talk this out?”

“there’s nothing else to talk about. go fuck yourself.” she spat in your face as she walked away.

you looked at your friends for help, only to be given dirty looks as they followed her.

all the bullying and shit-talking and petty social media posts.

“look at this fat pig. i was only her friend cuz i felt bad for her.” she laughed as she flipped her hair.

“did you see her new haircut? she looks like an abomination.” she laughed.

you scrolled through instagram to see that she posted a picture of her and her friends, making it obvious that she cropped you out.

“so grateful for my best friends!”

you thought you were going to puke.

even all the good times you all had before they decided to kick you out.

“oh my god you look so good in that dress!” she cheered at you as you and your friends went dress shopping.

“thank you! you look great too.” you smiled at her.

“we all look great. we are going to kill it at prom.” another girl said, holding her phone up to the big mirror as you all posed for a picture.

“you know i would trust you with my entire life, right y/n?” she told you. you slept over at her house, comforting her after she broke up with her boyfriend.

“yes, and i trust you with mine.” you smiled at her.

were they all lies? did they ever like me to begin with?

they all flashed through your head and you felt your breathing stop. you sharply inhaled, suddenly reaching for your water bottle as you chugged the rest of it down.

“you okay doll?” steve asked softly. you nodded, smiling at him, telling him to go back to sleep. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you smiled at him. he squeezed your hand with his before he knocked out.

everything’s going to be fine. you and steve are going to walk in that venue tonight and you’re going to show them that you’ve been doing better without them.

you distracted yourself with the files your boss sent you for the rest of the flight, ignoring the anxiety that ran through you.

-

you were putting on the finishing touches of your makeup in front of the bathroom mirror.

tonight was the night.

you concentrated on putting on mascara, not even noticing your boyfriend walking up behind you. you almost jump at the feeling of arms wrapping around your middle.

“you look great, doll.” steve whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“thanks, nat bought me this dress,” you smiled as you looked at your cocktail dress that hugged your figure perfectly. “you clean up well yourself, mr. rogers.” you chuckled, pointing out his slacks and dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone.

“why thank you, doll.” he beamed at you, leaning towards you.

you met him in the middle and molded your lips together. after a while, you two pulled apart to catch your breaths.

“as much as i would love to stay and do this, we got a reunion to attend.” steve said, earning a pout from you.

“fine,” you sighed as you exited the hotel bathroom and grabbed your handbag. “but if i want to leave, will you come rescue me and sweep me off my feet?”

“of course, doll.”

-

“name?” the man at the check-in table by the entrance of the venue asked, his eyes looking through the list.

“y/n l/n.” you answered. the man snapped his head up at you.

“my, my, my,” he smirked. “my eyes must be deceiving me. there’s no way y/n l/n is standing right in front of me.” he joked.

“unfortunately, tom, they’re not.” you laughed.

“well, you look great! ten years did you good.”

“thanks.” you gave a small smile.

“and who is this fellow with you?” tom asked, eyeing steve.

“steve rogers, y/n’s boyfriend.” he spoke up, offering his hand to tom.

“you even got a boyfriend! i must be in a different dimension,” he joked once again, making you roll your eyes at him. “anyways, you’re good to go. have a great night!”

“thanks tom.”

“oh and y/n?” he caught your attention once again. you raised your eyebrows at him. “they’re here.” he said, causing you to swallow the lump in your throat. 

you nodded at tom as you walked into the ballroom, admiring the decoration that filled up the walls.

student council still doesn’t disappoint when it came to events.

“who’s here?” steve asked, wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked around the tables, trying to find your seats.

“um, just some people.” you dodged.

before steve could ask you to elaborate, a voice shouted towards you two.

“oh my god, y/n?!”

you nervously looked around to see a girl running up to you. you exhaled in relief.

“zoe?!” you exclaimed, beaming at the girl that pulled you into a hug. “how have you been? i’m so sorry that we haven’t talked in so long.” you almost cried.

“don’t be sorry. we both got jobs to do,” she smiled at you. “i heard you’re a lawyer now! i’m so proud of you.”

“yeah!” you nodded. “and i heard you’re a doctor in korea. i’m so happy for you, i know you’ve always wanted to move there.”

“thank you! and who is this hunk?” she smirked at steve who had been silently listening in on their conversation the whole time.

“this is steve. he’s my boyfriend.” you shyly smiled.

“nice to meet you ma’am.” he smiled at zoe, shaking her hand.

“and he’s a gentleman too! you got a keeper,” she joked, making the two of you blush. “he’d give those bitches’ boyfriends a run for their money.” she snarled, looking in the direction of a big group laughing a corner.

“i’m still surprised they’re all still together, they all just swapped partners.” you quipped while looking at the group too. zoe laughed at your remark.

steve looked in your direction, nodding to himself as he tried to piece the puzzles together.

“i’ll be right back, save some seats for me!” she added right before walking away.

“it’s nice to know that you had at least one friend from high school.” steve said, grabbing your hand.

“yeah,” you smiled. “she was there for me when no one else was. i feel bad for not contacting her after high school. i moved away and she was studying abroad. but it was nice to see her again.”

“that’s good,” he smiled at you. “and from the looks you both were giving to that one group earlier, i’m assuming those were the people that made high school a living hell for you?” he added. you nodded.

“yeah,” you sighed. “they were, uh, my friends, um, until-” you felt yourself starting to heat up.

“hey, it’s okay,” steve turned towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready.” he comforted you. you nodded, giving him a small smile.

“thanks.”

“of course.” he said, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“y/n l/n?!” a painfully familiar high-pitched voice called to you.

fuck, here we go.

you and steve turned your head to see a girl with the fakest smile on her face.

“hi alicia.” you said, trying to keep your composure. you acknowledged the other girls behind her, noticing the confused and surprised looks on their faces.

“it’s been so long!” she squealed, opening her arms. once she took a step towards you, you instinctively stepped back. steve immediately placed a hand on your lower back. “oh, there’s no need for hostility here. we’re all friends here, right?” she smiled as the other girls chuckled.

“i don’t remember you calling me your friend after you turned your back on me.” you snarked.

“that was years ago! we’re all adults now,” she laughed, clearly putting on the nice girl facade. “i see you finally got yourself a man – it’s never too late to have a first.”

“thanks,” you gave alicia a small smile, ignoring the backhanded comment. “i see that you’re still with kevin – or are you with henry now? you know, the one that dated jenny. or are you dating brad? i heard from my law firm that he and mia went through a nasty divorce. i’m surprised all of you are still friends.” you smirked as steve suppressed his laugh. the other girls gasped as alicia laughed right back, trying her best not to lose control.

“i see you still got a sense a humor. i thought you usually get less funny once you lose a lot of weight. got tired of not being able to fit into a small?” she bit back.

“maybe. but i see you still use people’s appearances as a way to make yourself feel better.” you shrugged your shoulders.

“alright everyone, let’s get this party started!” someone announced over the microphone as people cheered.

“watch this one,” alicia looked at steve. “that little mouth of her’s has always gotten her in trouble.”

“and yet her pretty little mouth turned her into one of the best lawyers at her firm.” steve spat back, which made you smile from ear to ear.

alicia gave you two one more dirty look before her and the other girls returned to their boyfriends. you felt like you could breathe again.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that.” you apologized to steve.

“don’t be sorry. i’ve never seen you snap at someone so calmly before. it was kind of scary – but also kind of hot.” he laughed.

“i’m going to have to stop you right there,” you placed your hands on his chest, laughing back. “i don’t know where that confidence came from, but i wish i had it back in high school.”

“well, i’m proud of you. you did amazing.”

“fuck yeah she did!” zoe said, walking up to you two.

“you saw all of that?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“at least half of our class did,” she chuckled. “never mind alicia, let’s enjoy this reunion and dance until our heels break!”

-

almost an hour past by, and it was safe to say that you were enjoying yourself. you danced with zoe and caught up with a few more classmates before everybody was told to sit back down.

“as you guys know, it’s been ten years since we’ve walked the halls at our high school,” the class president spoke into the microphone. “let’s take a trip down memory, shall we? i had a video made filled with all of our memories as high school students. i hope you all enjoy!” she raised her glass as the crowd applauded and averted their attention to the big screen above the stage.

the video started playing nostalgic music – a remix filled with throwbacks that were popular when you were still in high school. everyone laughed as they watched videos and pictures of friend groups having the time of their lives and pranking each other. 

you weren’t expecting to see yourself that much. maybe a few pictures of you and zoe, or maybe even an accidental video of you hanging out with alicia and the other girls – until more videos started playing.

“get her!” alicia yelled as the other girls threw eggs at you. you screamed as you tried to shield your body from the attack.

“please! why are you doing this to me?” you cried.

“this is too easy when your fat body is an easy target!”

“i don’t remember this from the final edit.” the class president muttered as the laughs suddenly stopped.

you gulped as the video continued on to the next clip, not noticing alicia and her friends laughing at you from their table and in the video as if it was some terrifying echo.

alicia laughed into the camera’s microphone as she filmed the bonfire in front of her. she zoomed in closer, focusing on pictures of you that continued to burn.

“that’s what you get for being a fake bitch!” mia cackled.

“just go kill yourself already!”

“can someone turn that video off, please?” the president pleaded. you felt your breathing get quicker, steve grabbed your hands.

“y/n, doll, look away.” he told you, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen as tears began to form.

“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” a man asked you. the camera’s angle looked weird. it was as if someone was secretly filming you two.

“yeah, ryan, what is it?” you smiled at him.

“i-i was wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie with me this weekend?” he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“sure, that sounds nice!”

“great! i’ll pick you up at-” suddenly the camera got closer to you two as you heard laughs.

“i’m sorry ryan, i couldn’t take it anymore!” alicia laughed.

“w-what?” you said, pushing you glasses up as you looked at alicia and ryan in confusion.

“here’s your $20. i didn’t think you’d actually do it.” jenny laughed as she handed ryan the dollar bill.

the camera catches you crying as you ran away.

“watch out people, earthquake coming in!”

suddenly the screen went black. an awkward silence filled the room, only to be broken by familiar cackles from alicia and the rest of their group.

“y/n...” zoe said softly, placing her hand softly on your shoulder.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you got up from your seat and ran towards one of the exits, letting the cool air hit your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n!” a deep voice called out to you. you turned around to see running towards you, pulling you into his arms. you started sobbing into his dress shirt. “it’s okay. i’m here. no one can hurt you.”

“how could you still love me after knowing that i looked like that? that i was such a horrible person back then.” you tried to wipe your tears away.

“y/n, listen to me. you aren’t a horrible person – you were never one to begin with. those girls were never your friends. from what i can tell, they were fucking toxic and bullied you. they’re the horrible ones heres.”

“no one even noticed or even cared to stop them.” you sniffed.

“i know and they don’t deserve you. and who cares what you looked like back then? you’re everything i want – everything i need and i want you to see yourself the way i do.” steve said.

“can i tell you something?” your voice croaked.

“you know you can tell me anything.”

“i- the nightmare, me zoning out. they were about them.”

“oh, y/n-” steve gave you a sad look.

“i had my life together. i had a job, a place to live in, you. but then once i read that invitation, memories started flooding in and it just reminded me of how-” you suddenly stopped yourself.

“how what?”

“it reminded me of i, uh, almost tried to kill myself one night,” you felt tears starting to build up again. “i was at a bridge looking over the river, and uh, i was thinking about jumping in it and letting the waves take me away. i was so weak. i couldn’t take it anymore.” you cried. steve immediately wiped his thumbs across your cheeks.

“y/n, doll, you are a survivor – a fighter. they might’ve hurt you, but they never broke you. you win by simply living your life without them. you’ve already proven yourself that you are above this, that this did not define you.”

“thank you steve.” you smiled.

“you’re welcome doll,” he kissed your forehead. “and i’m sorry for making you come to this stupid reunion.”

“don’t be.” you chuckled.

“y/n! there you are!” you both turned your head to see zoe running towards you two. “are you okay?” she pulled you into a hug.

“i am now.” you smiled at her.

“thank goodness you’re okay. after finding out that alicia switched the video, she and those fuckers got kicked out.”

“really?” your eyes widened.

“yeah, and the whole class started cheering and went back to dancing. they were asking for you, and miss class president sends her apologies.”

“tell her it’s okay and it’s not her fault.” you told zoe as she nodded.

“well, i’ll be inside if you need me.” she smiled at you, heading back inside.

“you don’t have to go back inside, you know?” steve asked, knowing that after all the shit that you’ve gone through today, you’d probably want to go back to the hotel.

“i know. but i think i can survive the next few hours dancing. how about you?” you grinned. steve held out his arm for you.

“lead the way.”

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Chapter 2

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

Death of a College Student

“Excuse me?” you questioned incredulously and a bit freaked out.

Steve gave you a charming yet crooked smile, taking note of your features with great detail. Your brows were knitted in confusion and mouth ajar in disgust. Your form leaning towards him in a primal state of attack with your hand tightly wrapped around your bag. Ready to swing if he decided to call you sweetheart one more time.

He found it rather endearing. Attractive would be the best word. Very attractive. Steve knew he was a bit unhinged, probably had something to do with his line of work , and that he did just meet you like two minutes ago but damn did he like you.

The way you held yourself. Firm and bold in front of a man you had to look up at to get a good look in the eyes. Your curt responses and brash attitude. He liked it all very much. Bonus points for having a cute face. Extra credit for possibly being a fellow Brooklynite.

"Sorry," he chuckled, "I didn't mean it in that way. I say stupid stuff sometimes."

“Then maybe you shouldn’t talk at all,” you snapped, quickly turning on your heel to walk away.

“Come on, now. If I didn’t talk, you would’ve been stuck in front of the painting for hours,” he pointed out, following behind you like a lost puppy. You grunted at his reply. He was right, but that didn’t give him the right to call you sweetheart. “I helped you and don’t you think I deserve some compensation for my contribution?”

You stop and turn to him. “Right of course,” you said, starting to rummage through your bag. Steve smiles, already thinking of what kind of coffee he’d like to get. You take his hand a put something in it. He looks down to find a dirty penny in his hand. “A penny for your thoughts,” you smiled then turned to leave.

Steve laughs heartily. Extra extra credit for a horrible yet good sense of humor. He wasn’t ready to quit just yet and quickly approached you, walking by your side. You huffed then turned to him.

“What am I gonna have to do for you to leave me alone?” you spat.

“Ahh, so you are from Brooklyn,” he pointed at you.

You groaned and he almost awwed. “Listen, asshat, I will not hesitate to break that pretty nose of yours,” you threatened.

“You think my nose is pretty? That’s kinda weird, but I’ll take the compliment,” Steve smiled teasingly. “I think you’re pretty cute overall,” he stated.

You jump back a little when he drops that on you. Receiving compliments was scarce, especially ones about your looks from gorgeous men. A light blush slowly creeps onto your cheeks and for the first time that morning, you didn’t know how to respond.

“Alright how about I help ya?” Steve offered.

“Help me?”

“Yeah, you’re doing some project, right?” You nodded. “And you probably have no idea what to write.” Another nod. “Then I’ll help ya. I’ll be the Rosalind Franklin to your Weston and Crack.”

“It’s Watson and Crick,” you corrected.

“Uh-uh, no science talk,” he wagged his finger. “We don’t do that around here. This is holy ground and we only speak in the language of the arts.”

You roll your eyes at him, but don’t say anything to deny his offer. He was right. You were probably going to fail this project if he didn’t help you. So why not just take it? If he made a move, you could just kick him in the balls and make a run for it.

You sighed. “Fine, I’ll let you help me.”

Steve beams when you accept and you couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Great let’s go.” He motions you to follow.

“Woah, woah, woah,” you stopped him. “You don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Right,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Mind explaining?”

“So I have to look at three works of art in this place and write how I feel about it,” you informed. “My professor gave us a list of things that are the most famous. I already have two. So I guess we can just go to the next one on the list?”

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“Right, so next on the list is-uh…,” you glance over the paper in your hand. “The Death of Socrates.”

“Ah, a classic,” Steve says, walking down the hall.

“You know your way around here?” you asked, with your map in hand.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Do you work here or something?”

Steve shakes his head with a chuckle. “No, just a humble lover of the arts.”

Left at the end of the corridor and right at the next then walking straight down the hall brought you to the painting of the great philosopher Socrates.

“Oh, I’ve seen this before,” you pointed at it. “We talked about this in class.”

“Yeah? What did you talk about?”

“Dunno wasn’t listening,” you shrugged.

Steve turns slightly towards you with an incredulous look.

“Please don’t yell at me again,” you told him.

“I won’t, but you’re making it so hard not to,” he replied, turning his body back to the painting. “Now tell me, what period is this from?” You had to have at least caught that.

“Renaissance,” you took a jab. When all else fails it had to be the Renaissance.

“Wrong.” he deadpanned. “It’s Neoclassical.” As if you knew what that meant. “You’re hopeless,” he said. “You sure you’re not failing this class?”

“For your information, I have a high B,” you retorted, hands on your hips.

“Okay,” he said doubtfully. “Neoclassical refers to a period after the Baroque. It’s simpler in terms of its style while the one prior to this was extravagant in its technique. The best thing about this painting is that it’s the perfect statement of Neoclassical technique. The stark simplicity of their statues and the focus on Ancient Greek and Roman anatomy... ”

The guy goes on for what felt like hours and it all just goes through one ear and out the other. You quickly write down some important notes about the technique. Something to do with a focal point and the direction the natural eye would move. Blah blah blah.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, I’m listening,” you replied, scribbling down words onto a notebook. He takes the book from your hands. “Hey!”

“You’ll learn better if you listen with all your attention. Bet you when you get home, you’re not gonna understand any of this.” He said, shaking the notebook in his hand. You yanked the notebook from his hand but listened.

“So as I was saying,” he continued, making you huff and cross your arms. “Notice how muted the colors are towards the outside of the painting and how it becomes more vibrant in the center. And why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Cause he’s in the middle?”

“Exactly,” he grins. “And why is that so important?”

The look in your eyes is blank and said: you’re asking too much of me . Steve sighs then pointed at the painting with emphasis. “Don’t you see it?”

“I wouldn’t be asking you for help if I did,” you snapped.

“Socrates is the subject-matter. This entire painting is about his death.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He ignores your sassy remark and continues. “Look at everyone else. They’re distraught. Broken-hearted that their beloved teacher is being forced to poison himself just because his beliefs differ from the rest of Athens,” he explained. “But look at Socrates. He stands tall. He’s not afraid of dying. Cause he knows he’s dying for what he thinks is right. He takes it as an honor. When everyone else around him is falling, he’s still strong in the face of death.”

“Man, you’re really good at this.”

Steve hunches over with a sigh. “You haven’t listened to a word I just said, did you?”

“I did!” you assured, turning back to the painting. “I think it brings about the question. How far are you willing to go for what you believe in? Even if it brought you to death, would you still stick to it?”

Steve laughs with a shake of the head. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“Was I wrong?” you inquired.

“No,” he chuckled. “It’s just I wasn’t expecting so much from you. You caught me off guard there.”

“Jerk,” you murmured, writing a few words into your notebook for memory. You clicked the top of your pen with a satisfied smile. It was finally time to go home.

“So about that coffee?” Steve recalled with a wickedly handsome grin.

You groan internally, forgetting he was right there. Now it was time for an escape.

“Oh my god! Look!” you exclaimed, pointing behind him. He turns to look and finds nothing.

“I don’t see anything,” he shakes his head. He turns towards you or where you were supposed to be. All he found was a figure of dust and you halfway across the room. He could’ve caught up to you, but this time he decided to let you go. He chuckles to himself. She’s cute. She’s really cute.

TAGLIST

@scuzmunkie​ @achishisha​ @rootcrop​

A/N: Hi! If you want to be tagged pls ask or msg me. This is a sideblog so I can’t reply :( but if you do it’s fine! I just won’t reply!

[fastidious-and-a-mess]

Empty.

I see them everywhere. Everywhere, all the time, every day. They follow me, I think. I don't know what for, but I don't dare to contemplate their reasoning, or else my mind will wander to places of such horrors I think it might drive me mad, if I'm not mad already. I saw the first one exactly 17 days ago, I’ve been keeping a careful count. It was the same day, maybe even within the hour, I can’t quite recall, that I received the notice letter.

It was pinned to the front door of the house I’d been renting for nearly a year. My rent had been missed one too many times and I was no longer allowed to stay. I begged and pleaded and tried to reason as much as I could, the shop wasn’t doing well, they couldn’t get people their paychecks on time, if I could just have one more week, but it wasn’t enough. They gave me three days to remove all of my belongings from the house. “Where to?” I tried to make them understand. “I have nowhere else.” They told me that was not their concern, I needed my things out by Thursday or they’d fine me, so I had no choice. 

I called Allison, my daughter, and I asked her for help. Ever since She had gone off the college so many years ago, she had no issue expressing her disappointment in me as a father, and it hurt. She never really approved of me or my choices, called my art awful and ugly, told me it would never sell. And she was right. I was never well-off enough to support myself, and I relied on her help more than I’d like to admit. When I called her, asking her to let me move into her house, she was understandably reluctant. I begged and reasoned with her the same as with the landlords. Eventually, though, she gave in. She didn't understand my position or sympathize with me, she simply gave in to my pleading. 

It was when I was loading the boxes full of my few belongings into her car that Wednesday when I saw it.

It was standing behind a tree in the forest across the street, a figure, it looked like a man. It wore a black pinstripe suit and brown loafers. Something appeared off about it, but I could not recognize it at first, as the trees shadowed it from view. I found it somewhat unsettling, that a man I believed I did not know would be staring at me, not moving at all or making any sound, just standing. Soon enough though, my attention was drawn elsewhere when Allison called to me from the house and I quickly forgot about the off-putting encounter.

The next time I saw them was two days later. It was already dark outside, a result of the changing seasons. Allison was still out at work and would not be home for a few hours more, so all that were in the house were me and Allison’s cat. She works for a successful businessman as the manager of his accounting branch. I was always proud of her for that, she had found a way to make a living that made her happy. I think I'm lying to myself when I say I don't envy her for that.

Anyways, I was alone with her cat and I had just finished dinner. I was putting my dishes in the sink when I glanced through the window that spanned above the counter looking into the backyard, and I froze. There they were, two of them this time. I suddenly remembered the creepy moments from the other day as I realized that one of them was the same man from the forest. Except, now that I had a clear view with the light from the house and surrounding houses, I could see that it was not a man at all, and neither was the figure next to it. They were dressed the same way, with fedora hats now, staring directly towards me. If staring was even the right word for it, for they had no eyes. No faces at all. I realized this is what must have been so off-putting about the man from before. I tried to brush it off as teenagers pulling some mean prank, but it seemed to me too real to be masks. “Just the lighting, of course they’re masks,” I told myself, but I was unconvinced. 

It continued like this for a few more days, I would see them wherever I was, at least one, usually more. Allison never believed me, I believe she simply thought it was the consequences of being an old man, dementia or paranoia setting in, or both Or maybe she thought I was just going mad, I wouldn’t blame her either way. The first few days I ignored them, tried convincing myself it was a prank, that they’d give up as soon as they realized they wouldn’t get the reaction from me they were looking for. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, I told myself, and I was starting to buy into the “paranoia of an old man” belief Allison harbored myself, but I just couldn’t completely convince myself. Eventually though, I decided I had had enough. I gave up on the theories, the more I saw them, the more real they became. About a week after seeing them I decided to go to the police. Allison tried to talk me out of it.

“They’ll never listen to you,” she said, “they’ll just tell you you’re seeing things and send you off. And they’re right, Dad. They don’t have faces, they aren’t real! Please, I really don’t want to have to deal with bringing the police into this.”

She was right again, of course, but I didn’t listen to her. I just couldn’t bear it any longer. So the next day, exactly one week after the first time I saw one of those things, I went to the police. The receptionist, one Dorothy Riggs according to a pin on her chest, didn't take me very seriously, but she put me through to an appointment with a man named Officer Palmer. "He'll get a kick out of this," I heard her mumble to herself when she sent me down the hall, and she took a long drag from the cigarette dangled loosely between her fingers.

I knocked on the open door frame of the room down the hall to which Ms. Riggs had directed me, "Excuse me? Is this Officer Palmer's office?" 

"Yes sir, it is. You're speaking to him now," a tall man with broad shoulders and a face that has seen age but chosen to ignore it was standing in the room, flipping through some papers. His graying blond hair was cut crisply and a goofy smile sat upon his stern jaw. "What can I do ya for?"

"I'm being followed," I began, careful to not lead too strongly and drive him off. 

"Well now, isn't that exciting? Can you tell me what he looks like?"

"They, actually, it's a group of them. They all wear the same clothes, like out of a detective movie from the 50s, with suits and loafers and even the hats."

"That doesn't really help me here, sir. I can’t do anything with clothes, give me something useful. What are their faces like? Body types, hair cuts, stuff like that." He sat in his chair and pulled a new file folder out of his desk and began filling out the various documents it contained. "I never got your name."

"Smith, sir. Roger Smith."

"Thank you, Roger. Now, their faces."

"Well, uh, that is the thing," a sense of dread washed over me as I tried to recall exactly what the things looked like, something seemed to be keeling my mind from putting together the whole memory, and it frightened me to my core. "They didn't have any."

"Excuse me? No faces?" I could tell I was losing him, I had to make him believe me, I had to get him to help. 

"Yes sir, no faces."

"Ok, Roger. I'm going to need you to quit wasting my time here. If you're lying to me, you better come clean right now or I'm kicking you out of my office. I have better things to do." His tone changed quickly, from lax and humourous to something much more stern and unforgiving. 

"No, Officer, please, I'm telling you the truth. People without faces are following me and I don't know who they are or what they want. Please, sir, help me," I pleaded.

"I don't have time for this. Get out," he stood up, tossed my file into the garbage basket, and started towards me to lead me out of the room back into the hallway. 

"But pl-"

"Nope. I have more important things to deal with than a paranoid old man. Get out of my office."

With that, he kicked me out and I left the station, back at square one, still totally helpless and alone.

Across the street, much to my distress, stood the largest group of those things I've ever seen, ten or fifteen at least. It filled me with such a sensation of horror and helplessness that I had never felt before in my long life. I knew something was coming, something very bad, and there was nothing I could do about it. 

That catches us up to now, as I'm sitting in Allison's living room recounting the story to myself alone while Allison is once again working late, and I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm not losing my sanity. I look out the back door, made of sliding glass, where I saw the pair of them only a few days ago. It feels like eons. The dusk is starting to set in, so I can't see clearly, but I know there's something moving in the darkness of my daughter's backyard. The only light on now is a small table lamp on the end table, casting blackness into the corners of the room and leaving the yard abandoned by the light. I hope whatever is out there is her cat, but I fear the worst. As it comes into the small amount of light trickling from the house, I realize it's not one thing, but a group of those faceless creatures so much larger than I've ever seen. I've never seen them moving before either, just standing, unnaturally still, and the sight of their movement is something so horrid I can barely stand it. They move with such an artificial stance, so unnatural and void of life, I could hardly even process it. The fear paralyzes me. They keep coming, there are so many, oh my god there are so many. And they don't stop walking. 

They don't stop, keep walking, all the way to the door. They don't stop there either, no, they start pounding. Pounding so loudly on the door, so hard, it begins to crack, and I feel my very soul crack with it. Overwhelming terror fills me up to the brim and I know. I know now. I know what they want. It's me. They want me and there is nothing I can do about it. 

The door shatters and they pour into the living room, some of them stumbling over each other or falling flat, all of them clambering towards me. Their movement is hasty now, erratic. I scream, loud and hoarse, but there's no one around to hear, or care. 

They're coming closer now, only a few feet of time left in my life, I know, then it will all be over.

And I am powerless to stop it. 

They're right in front of me now, reaching out with white and pale and almost plastic looking hands, reaching towards my face. 

Only a few inches left. 

And now they're on me. I can feel their hands, their skin is cold and the contact is empty.

Oh god, they're all over.

Their hands cover my face and I feel myself becoming empty. Everything fades to black, first my vision, and then my very soul, my life, until there is nothing left. 

I scream again, but there is no one and nothing but the empty. 

[illfoandillfie]

Curtains - Part 2

It’s @laedymoon - Elio, my Tumblr Daughter’s - birthday today!!! So to celebrate I thought I’d post a little something dedicated to her! Curtains was originally written because of El so I decided to write a second part!

El, I hope you’ve had a fantastic birthday and that you enjoy this fun little thing ily 😘😘😘

READ PART 1 HERE

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You still haven’t fixed those curtains.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, dom!Rog

Words: 2202

A/N: This is not the sequel fic ya’ll were hoping for but it’s the one ya’ll are getting for the moment.

Taglist:  @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac@labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @bowiequeen​ 

It had been a full two weeks since your encounter with Roger and your curtains still weren’t up. If anyone had asked, you’d have said something about not having the right tools, or not being able to do it on your own, or that really you hadn’t noticed because you’d been so busy with school work you’d spent most nights this past week sleeping in a corner of the library. None of that was true. The reality was that you were just hoping Roger would come back and make good on his promises. You’d considered going to his place, but every time you came close, you’d chicken out. The idea of knocking on his door and seeing his smug face when he realised how badly you wanted him again, was almost too much to bear. And god, what if his roommate answered? It’d be mortifying, knowing he knew you were there to try and score another shag. You had no idea how likely it was that Roger had told anyone about you or what had occurred but the possibility that his roommate knew anything kept you away from their front door.  

You’d considered striking up a flirty conversation at the pub and more than once you’d gone there intending to do just that. The memory of the first time he’d talked to you, there at the bar, kept intruding, playing on a loop in your mind as you ordered a drink, hoping alcohol would dull your sense of self-preservation enough that you could muster up the courage to talk to him. It never quite worked. Usually he was already wrapped up in a conversation, a half empty beer in his hand, when you got there. Mostly it was with friends, the same ones you saw walking up his driveway every other day. Sometimes it was other girls. Either way you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. Not when all you could think about how he’d made you cum in public and you were worried that thought would be the first thing out of your mouth. Instead you’d buy a few drinks and try not to stare at him too much as you finished them. Then you’d go home and imagine what you would have said if those other people hadn’t been there, imagine how things could have gone if you weren’t quite so shy, and pray he’d notice you next time.  

You’d almost given up hope he’d come around again when you heard a tapping at your back door, pulling your focus from the assignment you were trying to write. His stare through the glass reminded you of the first time he’d been here, watching you, and you hurried to open the door.  “You expecting someone?” he asked indicating your bare legs under the long shirt you had on, “Or just hoping?”  “Hoping,” you said quietly, heart racing at the cocky smile he gave you in return. You’d known he’d be smug about it but somehow it only made you want him more.  “You gonna let me in, love?”  “Sorry, yeah,” you stood back to let him in, holding the door open as he crossed the threshold, and closing it softly behind him.  “Still haven’t put those curtains up,” he turned and pointed at the doorway as if there were multiple unhung curtains he could be talking about, “Not really a surprise though.”  “Like I said, hoping.”  Roger chuckled as he stalked towards you. You took a step backwards and found yourself with your back pressed against the door.  “I’ve seen you at the pub you know. Trying to decide if you should come talk to me or if that’d give away how desperately you want me to fuck you again. Still shy, aren’t you?”  You nodded as he moved into your personal space, using his knee to part your legs. You lowered your eyes but he tilted your chin up, giving you no choice but to look him in the eye.  “That’s okay. I like knowing I can make a shy little girl like you moan like a whore.”  You whimpered as he brushed his fingers over your clit, teasing you through your underwear. He moved as close as he could get, leaning down to nip at your shoulder as he brushed your clit softly again and again until you attempted to press your hips into his hand, desperate for a firmer touch.  “So desperate for me, aren’t you?” he asked as he slid his hand into the top of your underwear, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.  You whined as he focused on your clit.  “You remember what I said last time?”    “W-which part,”  “When I told you how I wanted to fuck you,”  “Yes,” you gasped as he removed his hand from you entirely, but it was just so he could tug your underwear to the side and change the position of his hand. He placed two fingers at your entrance but stopped, teasing you with them.  “And what did I say?”   “Up against the door,”  “And the other way?”  “With the door op-open,” you were rewarded with his fingers pressing into you as his thumb came to rest on your clit. Your breath caught in your throat as he began to pump his fingers into you rapidly.  “Bet you’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?”  “Yes,” it slipped out in a moan.  “Waiting for me to come back, use you the way you want to be used.”  “Yes. Pl-ease Roger, ‘m close,”  “Which way do you want more?”  You couldn’t think clearly with his fingers were pumping into you, his thumb pressed against your clit, his voice in your ear.  “Gotta give me an answer, love, otherwise you’ll get neither.”  You whined as you tried to understand what he meant.  “Fine,” Roger stopped, his fingers still inside you, and brought his other hand up to your throat, pinning you against the door entirely, “Answer me. Or I’ll use your mouth and leave without letting you cum.”  “Open door,” you gasped out, not sure if that’s the one you wanted more or it was just the last one you thought about and the closest for your brain to reach.   “Good girl.” He tightened his grip on your throat as he began stroking your g-spot as his thumb resumed its movements on your clit.   In a matter of seconds you were coming undone, a hand wrapped around his wrist near your throat, for support.  

You could almost have cried as his fingers left you, grabbing you by the arm instead to pull you away from the door as he opened it. You hastened to pull your shirt of as he pushed your underwear down your legs. As soon as they hit the floor he grabbed you again, turning you round and placing your hands against the glass door as he pulled your hips back. If someone had taken that moment to sneak into your backyard and look through the open door, they would have had a clear view of Roger running his cock along your pussy, teasing you before ramming into you, making you mewl.  “Gotta be louder than that if you want to cum,” he growled as he thrust into you rapidly, forcing stuttered moans from you with every snap of his hips. Roger had one hand on your hip and one on your back to keep you steady. The slapping sound of skin on skin mixed with the constant rattle of the door, every shift making it bang against the skirting board, and your constant moans, unabashedly loud. He dropped his hand from your back to your clit, building the pressure in the pit of your stomach. And then you heard it, amongst all the noise, something different and out of place.  “W-wait R-r-r-oger,”  He stopped and pulled out as you felt behind you, tapping his side.  “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”   “No, nothing like that. Heard a noise.”  “Heard a noise?” He scoffed but you shushed him, listening for the noise again.   Suddenly you heard a bang.  “Oh, Jesus Y/N. That was just a car door.” Roger peaked out the doorway, craning his neck to see and you did the same, “Pretty sure it came from my place. Can’t believe I pulled out of your tight little cunt because Bri’s fucking come over again.” He pushed you back down against the door, “whole point of fucking you like this is so the street can hear what a slut you are.”  You moaned loudly as he entered you again, returning to his fast pace, only now he also added a few slaps to your arse to make you squeal. You were sure you heard the footsteps heading up next door’s driveway stop, their owner listening to your pornographic noises. The thought only made you more desperate to cum. You dropped one arm from the rattling door, intending to rub your clit and push yourself over the edge, but Roger caught your wrist and slammed your hand back over the handprint you’d left on the glass.  “No,”  “Please,”  “Not yet,”  “Please,”  “Ask again and I’ll stop,” he growled, breathing heavily between words.  You whined as he continued to pound you, but refrained from begging, even though your whole body was screaming at you to cum. Next door was quiet again, no more car doors and no more footsteps. Though the voice in the back of your head that wondered if anyone was still there, listening to you, was much louder than before. Every rustle in a tree made you think someone was sneaking into your yard for a better look. Without warning Roger dropped his hand to rub your clit again.  “Gonna cum for me? Let everyone hear you?”  You didn’t need any more encouragement. Spots appeared in front of your tighly shut eyes as you screamed Roger’s name, your climax hitting you with the force of a moving train. He wasn’t far behind, groaning in your ear as he filled you with his cum. Even in your post-coital, orgasm induced daze you were sure you heard a bark of laughter and a door closing next door.  

You remained leaning against the glass, breathing heavily until Roger could summon the energy to let go of you and walk the three steps to your bed. He collapsed there on his back, arms spread out, and you followed, curling up next to him, still trying to catch your breath. This time Roger stayed longer than the five minutes it would have taken to get dressed, pulling you deeper into his side.   “You aren’t leaving?”  “I can if you want me to,” he sounded tired but he made to sit up anyway.  “No, stay, I like it better this way.” You spoke softly, wrapping an arm around Roger as he settled back down, “That was really good by the way.”  “Yeah it was,”  “You ever want to do it again let me know,”  “Or you could let me know,”  “I spose,”  “Y/N, I think if you can moan my name and let me call you a slut, you can talk to me at the pub. I promise I won’t bite. Not unless you ask me to anyway.”  “You’re always with your mates though, I couldn’t.”  “You could. They see me every day, would probably thank you for taking me off their hands.”  “But...then they’d know,”  “You mean about how you can’t get enough of my cock?” He laughed.  If you had the energy to move you would have punched him in the arm.  “Think they already know, love. Pretty sure they would’ve heard you just now.”  You groaned, “God I’m never going to be able to look them in the eye,”  “Can’t beg me to fuck you in front of an open door and then get embarrassed when people hear you.”  “I didn’t beg,”  “Close enough. Maybe next time I’ll make you.”  “You sure there’s going to be a next time?”  Roger laughed again, “Definitely not the last time we do something like that. You enjoy it too much to stop and I’ve got more I want to do to you.”  You pushed yourself up onto your elbow to look at Roger properly, “You got something in mind? For next time?”  “Might do,” Roger still sounded tired but there was an excitement in his tone underneath it, “you should come to my show.”  “Your show?”  “I’m in a band, Queen, we’re playing down the pub in two days' time, you should come.”  “You any good?”  “Well I think so but, y’know, might be a bit biased. Besides, was more thinking we could find a cleanish bathroom afterwards and make sure the whole place can hear you. Or there’s the backstage room. The boys might be hanging around but I bet you’d find that hot. Could fuck them too if you were so inclined.”  “I don’t think I am inclined,”  “Good, I don’t really want to share you,”  You squeezed your thighs together as a wave of arousal rolled through you, “I’ll be there,”  “Dirty girl,”  “Just for the music,”  “If you get there early you can take me before the show as well as after.”  “What time’s early?”

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

Welcome home boys.

Summary: Roger and Brian have been gone for a year but come back home to surprise you.

Warnings: Okay this is just as bad as the first part. So lots of SMUT, a threesome, this made me very sweaty. Poly relationship (kinda??) Everyone kinda gets the shot at being a Dom in this one but it's mainly Brian. Lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), it's just really filthy I don't know what to tell you...there's swearing, spanking, spitting, Roger wearing lingerie 👀...it's just...AHHHH. (Especially the ending aggahsjskkskka) @deacytits you sure this isn't TOO much?! 😂😭

A/N: This is one big filthy clusterfuck. It's a disgusting mess and so am I. Enjoy! 💖

You flinched when the phone rang, it was first thing in the morning. You let out a groan and rubbed your face. You groggily answered and could hear people snapping at each other on the other side as they fought for the phone "Y/N?"

"Brian!" You widely smiled, your tiredness melting away. "Oh it's so good to hear your voice!"

"I'm here too!" Roger butt in and you giggled.

"Course, can't have one without the other," your smile fell slightly. Right now and for the last year you had neither. The boys had been immensely successful with their new band, Queen. They were touring the world with Freddie and John who you had met and instantly took a liking to. Although, you told Brian that any new member was always going to be better than Tim. You could almost hear his laughter in your ear as you sat on the couch. The boys looked at each other with a sad smile when they heard you say that, the phone in between them. "Anyway!" You moved on "How is...Brazil? Isn't it?"

"Yeah!" Brian replied "It's great! How are you? We haven't spoken to you in about a week!"

You rubbed your leg a little "I'm good, keeping busy. I miss you both." Your tone was low "I would honestly give anything for a cuddle from both of you right now!" You let out a watery laugh and quickly tried to wipe away the tear that was on your cheek.

Roger dismally sighed and Brian clutched the phone a little tighter with shut eyes "We'd give anything for that too Y/N," Roger said. "Please don't cry," he softly begged and you smiled, sniffling.

"It's like you can see down the phone!" You laughed, a little forced but you didn't want to worry them. "It's fine, I'm fine. I'm just counting down the days until I can see you both again."

"Six months..." Roger murmured and played with the telephone cord.

"I know, Rog," you sighed "I know." You swallowed hard, wanting to change the subject entirely and perk all of you up a little. "You won't believe how much I've watched you on tv!" You could practically see the two of them smiling "Watching your interviews and whatnot...then touching myself when I see you both." You heard them gulp and you smirked "God, Rog..." you deeply breathed his name "Seeing you with just a vest on and all sweaty really gets me going..." you hummed and Roger steadied himself against the wall with a hand. "And Brian," the guitarist bit down on his lip "Seeing you finger that guitar like that brings back so many good memories..."

"I do it for you, baby. I know how fast you like watching me play," he replied with a raspy voice.

"I like watching you play with, Y/N," you could just hear Roger murmur under his breath before letting out a loud, annoyed groan when someone else shouted something. "We've gotta go, Angel."

"Okay, well it was nice having a chat with you. I love you!" You smiled down the receiver and waited to hear your favourite sound in the world.

"We love you too!" They replied at the same time and you widely grinned placing the phone down. It fell fast and you sighed, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

A week later, at around ten at night, there was frantic banging on your door. You were in bed and quickly got up, wrapping your dressing gown around you. "Alright! Alright!" You uttered when the banging became persistent. "Can I help-" you opened the door and cut yourself off with a delighted squeal seeing Brian and Roger on the other side with bags in their arms. "Oh my god! Oh my god!!" You jumped on the spot and flapped your hands about. You engulfed them both in a hug, they dropped their stuff and wrapped their arms around the bottom of your back and picked you up off the floor a little. You stood back and shook your head when they put you down "Bu-but you're supposed to be in I-Ireland?" Your words stumbled out of your mouth. You were still in shock.

"We have a four day break between gigs," Brian grinned. "So we thought we'd visit our favourite person in the whole world," he winked and gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

You brought your hands to your mouth, trying to conceal the biggest smile on your face. "Come in! Let me make you a cup of tea or something! Are you hungry?" You asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Only for you," Roger said and your eyes flickered up to them both leaning against the doorframe, essentially trapping you in the kitchen and looking at you like they were a pair of lions and you were a gazelle.

You smiled to yourself "We've waited this long," you quietly said and walked up to them as the kettle boiled. "I'm sure having a cup of tea for ten minutes won't be the end of the world." Brian gripped onto your waist and pulled you to him, crashing his lips to yours. You could hear Roger grunt frustratingly before he dragged you towards him and moulded his mouth against yours.

"A whole year, Rog!" Brian whined "I'm not letting you have all the fun!"

"Mhmm," he kept kissing you "Join in then," he muttered against your lips.

Brian's lips met yours and Roger's at the same time, all three mouths colliding together and fighting for dominance. It felt like all the breath had been sucked from your lungs. "Tea!" You said a little too loud, stumbling back with rosy cheeks. "Tea first!"

The two boys laughed "It's barely been five minutes and look how flustered she is..." Roger teased and you narrowed your eyes at him as you poured out tea for you all. He hummed into the mug, taking the first mouthful. "We haven't had a decent cup in ages!"

Brian nodded in agreement "Tastes different everywhere we go, never the same as back home- certainly never the same as the way you make it," Brian bashfully smiled and you waved away his comment with a humble grin. He looked at Roger before they both looked at you "We really missed you so much, Y/N, and when we heard how upset you were on the phone, we couldn't stay away any longer."

"As soon as we had the chance we wanted over to London to see you," Roger placed down his half full mug and cupped your face, that familiar, comforting warmth made your heart swell. "We missed you more than you could ever know."

You felt tears pricking at your eyes "I missed you both too, but you're home now!" You smiled, trying not to get too sappy because then all three of you would end up a blubbering mess. Roger gently kissed you but it soon turned very heated- the tea was forgotten about. Brian was behind you, his lips attached to your neck and his hands gently massaging your ass over the silk of your nightdress. "Not in the kitchen," you murmured against Roger's lips. The boys agreed. The three of you began making your way up to your room before you stopped in the hall. Brian and Roger were a little in front and paused when they saw you standing still. "You know...I've never quite forgiven you both for selling that van..." the two boys shared a quick, guilty glance. "And then you leave me for a whole year..." you dramatically sighed and slowly walked towards them, pulling off your dressing gown and letting it fall to the floor.

"We really wish we didn't! The van and the tour!" Roger said. "We loved that van too, Y/N!" He went to move closer but you held out a finger, warning him to stay right where he was.

"That van!" you longingly sighed and pressed your hands against your heart. "We had so much fun in the back of that thing." You stepped forward barely an inch. "Oh and you haven't even seen these yet!" In a flash you pulled off your nightdress and Roger swiftly gripped on to Brian's arm in shock. The guitarist was too surprised to react. "Aren't they nice?" You flaunted your champagne coloured lacy underwear that had the thinnest black straps on them to keep them in place, each side was cut out, showing even more skin. "I do have a bra to match but you both know I don't wear one to bed." You winked.

"Bri, I'm about to fucking cum in my trousers right now," Roger tightly mumbled, not releasing his grip on Brian and keeping his wide eyes firmly on you. "Y/N..." he said your name in a honeyed voice and attempted to move forward again.

"If you don't stay where you are I'll tie you to the chair in my room and you'll have to watch Brian fuck me all night. Again." Brian cockily smirked while Roger groaned in annoyance. "Get on your knees, right now." Roger and Brian did what they were told and you walked forward. "Such good boys," you praised and they both let out a faint wail under their breaths feeling your fingertips dance over their cheeks and jawline. "Do you know how happy I am to see you?" You rhetorically asked. You made them watch as you put your hand in your underwear and slipped a finger inside you, swiping it against you slick folds.

"Jesus Christ," Brian uttered under his breath and clenched his teeth together a little to try and relieve some tension. But you could clearly see how much they both needed you.

"I mean," you pulled out your finger and held your hand up to the light to examine it, the boys mouths were getting drier by the second. "Just look how wet I am." Your eyes flickered to them "Want to taste?" They both groaned, nodding their heads frantically and you smirked. "Say please," you playfully chided. Brian was a painting mess already, the two of them chanted the word 'please' like a mantra. You held out your finger between the two of them, they didn't hesitate to run their tongues across the length of your finger, brushing tongues with each other as they desperately tried to taste you. You watched with a small grin on your face, they were wrapped around your little finger. Literally. "I bet you two had a lot of fun when you were touring..." you watched them intently.

"We always fucked with you in mind," Roger said, still licking away at your finger and at Brian's tongue. "When can we have you?" He whined and looked at you with pleading eyes.

"Come and get me," You turned your back and began walking up the stairs, shaking your hips a little. You could hear the pair of them scampering up the steps. Brian scooped you up in his arms and you let out a giggle. He grunted when Roger jumped on his back. He managed to get you both to your room, you were in hysterics that Brian was still giving Roger a piggyback ride.

"Will you get off of me?!" Brian snapped.

"Get off of you or get you off?" Roger slyly smirked and slid off Brian's back while you clapped your hands with a proud smile on your face.

"Ohhh! That was a good one, Rog!" You gave him a high five and he held onto your hand, gently squeezing it. Brian's cheeks were bright red. You sat down on the bed and Roger joined you, both of you kept your eyes on Brian.

"Brian was such a little slut when we were on tour," Roger said against your neck "On his knees with his mouth open for me every night." You groaned at the thought. Brian was just getting even more flustered. "Begging me for it." Roger skilfully unbuttoned his shirt while he kept his hand on your waist, gently tracing his fingers up and down your skin, edging closer to your breasts. You watched as Roger stood up and undid his belt buckle and shimmied out of his jeans in front of Brian. The guitarist bit down on his lip and fixated his gaze on the wall in front of him. That was until he jolted feeling Roger's hand press against his already solid length. "Begging for it," he repeated with the cockiest smirk.

"Roger called me daddy and wore your underwear set that he stole!" Brian blurted out.

You and Roger loudly gasped. "That was a moment of weakness, Brian!" Roger gritted out his name. Brian let out a laugh and jabbed Roger's side.

"The baby blue one?! I want to see you in it!" Roger and Brian looked over to you on the bed, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. Roger glanced to Brian and grinned, rushing downstairs to get it out of his bag. Brian began to completely strip off and he joined you on the bed, hovering over you and gently peppering kisses on your lips "I'm so happy you're both home," you whispered and intertwined your fingers with his curly locks.

"Seeing you smile is the greatest gift Roger and I could get," Brian flashed a toothy grin and stroked your cheek. When a throat cleared by your doorframe, both you and Brian looked up. Roger was standing there, basking in all his beautiful glory wearing your bra and knickers.

"I'm actually quite jealous that he wears it better than me..." you grumbled and sat up properly. "It matches with your eyes, Rog," you purred and clawed at the air to bring him closer to you. He sauntered over and straddled you, Brian was rubbing his hands up and down yours and Roger's thighs. Roger began to grind against your throbbing pussy- you were starting to soak what he was wearing. You heard Brian groaning with his head bent back as he began to get himself off while watching you and Roger. You smirked and whispered into the drummers ear, Roger glanced around and nodded at you with a twinkle in his eyes. You both shifted on the bed slightly and lay with your backs on the mattress. Roger's hand slipped into your underwear and your hand went into his- well, yours.

Brian opened his eyes for a second and looked at the two of you mercilessly rubbing and pumping one another on the bed. Roger let out a ragged breath as his back arched slightly and he raised his free hand up to grab onto your sheets. "What are you two doing?" Brian asked, breathing heavily.

You glanced at Roger, he didn't speak but you could hear the words; 'Ask him' fall from his mouth pleadingly. You hummed and let out a loud moan feeling Rogers fingers brush frantically over your clit. "We want you to cum on us," you paused momentarily "Please, daddy."

Brian gulped, his eyes becoming darker with full blown, unadulterated, lust. You saw a wave of confidence and power crash against his face- you and Roger both knew he felt good being called that. "What did you call me, baby?" He stood between your left leg and Roger's right leg, clamping you between his strong thighs. You and Roger were stuck to each other and not going anywhere.

"Daddy," you purred and Brian let out a faint hiss, grabbing your hand and Roger's hand and then controlling you both, making you touch and rub each other faster than before. You and Roger jerked and let out a desperate plea for him to do as you kindly asked. Brian pulled his hands back and began to roughly jerk his hand up and down himself in front of the two of you, soft moans left his warm lips and his head fell forward, he kept watching the two of you with half hooded eyes.

"Oh God, Rog!" You yelped when he playfully began to flick you "Shit!" You jerked your hips forward when he did it again.

"Did you do that to yourself?" He asked, not caring how exhausted he already sounded. "Bet you did, thinking it was me and Bri- such a dirty girl." You mewed loudly and squeezed your eyes shut, a pleasure driven pressure building up inside you. "We've got a special surprise planned for you-"

Brian cut Roger off "Shut up! Don't tell her! I'm trying to focus anyway!" He grunted and frantically pumped, "Oh J-Jesus!" He moaned out and came all over yours and Roger's stomach. You and Roger stopped touching each other and moaned with smiles on your faces seeing streams of white all over your skin. It was like Brian was the artist and you and Roger were his canvas.

Roger sat up and motioned his head towards your stomach and chest, Brian caught the gist of what he was trying to say. Rog and Bri licked all of the cum off your stomach and breasts with grins on their faces, you began to giggle feeling the tickling sensation on your skin. Roger sat up and grabbed Brian's boxers that were on the floor and wiped off the cum on his stomach. Brian glared at him. "Hey, you caused it- your clothes clean it!" Roger said with a mouth full of cum, taking off your bra and knickers set that he was wearing and tossing them to the side.

"Me and Y/N could have licked it off!" Brian said- his mouth equally as full. "More to spit on her," he devilishly smirked and you felt a chill run down your spine. You were still on the bed, happily allowing the boys to peel off your underwear and pull apart your legs by your ankles before they settled in between your thighs. One leg was on Roger's shoulder and the other was on Brian's. The pair of them let the sticky cum and spit mixture fall from their mouths on to your already dripping heat. They began massaging in the sticky substance against your clit and inner thighs driving you insane from all the pleasure.

"Good god!" You groaned "Feels so fucking good!" Your arms spread out and you balled your duvet cover in your hands. "O-oh GOD!" You yelped feeling not one, but two tongues on your throbbing pussy. "Y-y-you b-both?" Your words tumbled almost incoherently out your mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with sheer ecstasy feeling them both lap up your juices as well as the sticky cum mixture they spat on you and play with your clit. You loudly groaned, eyes squeezing shut and your shoulder blades tensing together, making your back rise off the bed completely. You sat up and they looked up to you with the most innocent of gazes. They then glanced to each other and made you watch as their tongues brushed against one another's. "Sweet mother of god," you murmured and fell back onto the bed. As Brian continued to eat you out, Roger pulled back and crawled onto the bed beside you. Lovingly stroking his fingers down your body that was glowing in the light from the sweat that was building up.

Roger noticed the signs on your face and smirked "You're going to cum aren't you, angel?" He said in a sinfully sweet tone "Cum on Bri's tongue. He's missed you so much and I've missed that hot as fuck face you make when you do cum." You gasped for air when your lips widely parted and you let out a shuddering mew when you came. Roger brushed the tip of his tongue around your parted lips before kissing you as you kept panting for air.

You twitched, Brian wasn't stopping. "J-Jesus!" You hissed and bit on Roger's bottom lip "He isn't stopping!" You gasped, your nerves jolting with overstimulation. Roger glanced down to Brian and gently nudged his shoulder but he kept going, an animalistic growl sent vibrations through your entire body. "F-fuck! Fuck! Brian!" You cried as your legs frantically kicked the air.

Brian finally pulled back, gasping for a large lungful of air. It was like he had just been holding his breath underwater for five minutes. "Thought you were going to bloody kill her there, Bri!" Roger laughed.

The guitarist sent him a spine tingling gaze, one that he had never recalled seeing before. In a matter of seconds Brian was straddling Roger, Roger's hands trapped under Brian's muscular thighs. He then placed a hand to your pulsating, dripping pussy and began fingering you. The overstimulation made you cry out his name and you tried to pry his hand away by the wrist but Brian was too strong and you were too exhausted. "Look at her," Brian spat in Roger's face "Look how fucked she is."

You wailed and groaned, your whole body trembling from the power of Brian's hand. Roger gulped and tried to help you out but Brian wasn't letting him move at all. "I-I can't breathe!" You gasped, slightly encouraging Brian's movements as you mindlessly kept rubbing yourself up and down on his hand.

"She needs a break," Roger panted out.

"Beg for it," Brian mocked Roger's words.

"Should have known this was your fault, Taylor!" You snappishly rasped at Roger with your eyes shut.

"Please, Bri," Brian raised a brow and Roger sighed under his breath "Please daddy." That only excited Brian more and he rubbed you faster. Roger smirked and being the devil he is, he began encouraging Brian. "Please keep fingering her, daddy. She's going to cum again and I want to lick it off your fingers."

"R-Roger! You little fucking shit!" You growled, hair sticking to the back of your neck as you were sweating so much. "Bri, baby!" You moaned "I can't...I can't!" You whined, desperate for a breath at his point.

"You can, baby, and you will," Brian lowly spoke before turning to Roger. "You did say you liked seeing me play with Y/N, Rog..." Roger brokenly whimpered. "Who's the little sluts now?" He cockily smirked and gripped onto Rogers jaw with his strong fingers, moving closer to the drummers face. "Who?"

"W-we are," Roger's words were strained. He was almost positive that he was about to cum any second now just watching Brian turn you into a complete and utter mess, not to mention him behind the dominant one for a change.

"That's right," Brian pried open Rogers mouth a little more with his strong fingers, still keeping a firm grip on his jaw. The drummer shut his eyes and groaned feeling Brian's hot saliva run down the back of his throat before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Roger was in a little paradise of his own, sucking away on Brian's fingers until his eyes snapped open when he heard you scream higher than he could sing when you came over Brian's fingers.

Brian pulled back his hand and you collapsed on the bed, Roger had the pleasure of feeling your warm, slick juices on his cock when Brian started to roughly jerk his hand up and down Roger's length. "Holy fuck! Holy fucking fuck!" Roger growled.

You tiredly smirked, your limbs were too wobbly to hold you up yet so you raked your nails over Roger's lower back and sides while your head rested on his thigh. You glanced up to Brian with a sultry smirk on your face. "Daddy wants you to come, Rog." You purred, Roger loudly cursing you as you got your own back for that overstimulated torture. "Daddy has been so good to us," you stroked your fingers over Brian's inner thighs, causing him to grunt and runt his hips a little. "He wants you to taste me and you..." you grinned like the Cheshire Cat when Roger started mumbling to himself.

"Fuck! Fuck! Shit!" Roger's voice started to get louder "G-GOD!" He screamed, finally coming undone on Brian's hand. Rog drooped forward slightly and softly landed against Brian's shoulder. He eventually sat up just enough and Brian smeared what was on his fingers on Roger's lips. The drummer sucked on them ever so softly with a hum. "I'm good to finish her off if you are, Bri." Roger swallowed the remnants of your cum and his own.

Your soft, light smile disappeared from your face and you quickly sat upright, most of your muscles starting to work again. "What to you mean finish me off?! I'm bloody banged out!"

"We haven't even banged you tonight, sweetheart." Brian pulled you onto his cock and you bit down on his shoulder to stop yourself screaming. He would have a bruise there tomorrow. "Been a year since I've felt this pretty pussy around my cock. Did you miss it?" You nodded, words no longer able to come out your mouth. The only things able to tumble out were groans, moans, wails and screams. Brian harshly slapped your ass and you yelped, Roger then began soothingly massaging it better. "Tell daddy how much you've missed his cock pounding into you."

"S-so much," you whispered against Brian's lips and sloppily kissed him. He spanked you again when he didn't get the response he wanted. "I've missed your cock pounding into me so much daddy!" Your arms tiredly wrapped around Brian's back "Please be gentle with me, love," you whispered and Brian softly grinned, protectively wrapping his arms around your waist and delicately guiding you up and down his length. "Mhmm...like that," you said with a whisper and snuggled into his neck.

"I might be going slow but that doesn't mean Rog will do the same..." Brian had an evil smirk on his face and before you could react, Roger had pulled you off Brian and on to him, thrusting into you and laughing almost menacingly and he grabbed and massaged your breasts. Your back was pressed up against his chest.

"Ugh! Why do you n-never wear your sweatbands on your wrists when I n-need them Rog!" You cried and he just giggled in your ear. "I-I'm g-going to kill you." You strenuously said.

"You wouldn't, Angel." He smirked and harshly grabbed onto your hips, moving you up and down him as he rutted his hips as hard and as fast as he could "You love me too much." He groaned in your ear "Can't wait to cum inside you. Bet you can't fucking wait either...I'm almost there, Y/N, baby. So, so, so close..." He whispered before coming inside you, screaming out your name out at the top of his lungs, he was dripping out all over your thighs. You- just like your bed sheets- were soaked.

"My turn," Brian smirked and stood up, grabbing your ankles and hooking them on his shoulders while you lay on the bed still catching your breath. "We missed you so much, sweetheart," he softly caressed your cheek with his fingertips before sliding himself inside of you with barely any warning. All the pent up tension inside you snapped again and as soon as you felt Brian's hard length filling you up, you came. Brian didn't last much longer, saying your name louder and louder like he was singing the sweetest melody until he came inside you just like Roger had done minutes before.

Brian flopped down and lay on top of you, his ear pressed to your heart that was beating hard and fast, it was like listening to Roger play the drums from inside you chest. You extended an arm and Roger cuddled in close to you. "Welcome home boys."

•••

Brian pulled you towards him by your hip, your side rested against his head and he pressed a small kiss to your pyjama fabric while you tangled your hand in his hair. "Thanks for breakfast, sweetheart."

"I needed this fry-up after last night!" Roger wolfed down his food. A smirk appeared on all your faces.

"I'll stick with my fruit salad," Brian pulled you onto his lap and you let out a surprised squeak feeling your- still sore- thighs land on Brian's lap. "More energy," he winked and purred out a 'grrrrrr'. You giggled and managed to get back up off of him and sit down between the two of them. Brian and Roger shot each other a glance. Rog excused himself, suddenly standing up. He went to fetch something from his bag and when he came back with what he was looking for, he placed it in front of you. It was a square shaped box that wasn't that high in height.

You hummed with a smile and took off the lid. Your smile faltered a little as you picked up a handful of pieces of long card. You shook your head, full of confusion. "There's...there's about a hundred plane tickets here?"

"All yours," Brian began to explain "We want you to come on tour with us. We really did miss you-"

"-and not just because you're a great shag!" Roger cut Brian off and you loudly laughed.

Brian shot Rog a dissaproving glare. "No, not just because that...because we love you and want to share traveling around the world with you for the next six months. Any places you haven't been to and want to go tell us and we'll take you." Brian and Roger took your hand in theirs when they saw your eyes becoming all glossy. They were welling up too.

"This is such a wonderful surprise!" You pecked their cheeks, the boys looked at each other funnily- you noticed. "What you said last night, Rog." You held up a ticket "My 'special surprise'."

"Oh!" He laughed, suddenly remembering that he almost spoiled the surprise last night. "That's not your surprise, angel." Your brows knitted together. You heard the front door being knocked on "That's your surprise..." Your eyes flickered between Brian and Roger as you slowly stood up from your chair and made your way towards the door. You were unsure of that almost wicked smile you had just seen on Roger's and Brian's face.

You opened the door and sweetly smiled "John!" You embraced him in a hug. "My darling Deaky! How are you?"

He nodded "Yeah, yeah all good!" His voice was trembling. "Uh are Rog and Bri here?" He asked peering behind you slightly. You nodded and folded your arms across your chest. "Ah good, that's good." He fumbled trying to get something out of his pocket and handed it to you.

"What's this?" You took a set of keys from him with a furrowed brow. Upon further inspection, they weren't just any keys. You glanced behind your shoulder and saw Roger and Brian standing there, biting down on their bottom lip with a wide grin on their faces.

Oh they had really done it this time.

John cleared his throat, speaking up again. "The boys said something to me about us four in the back of the van?"

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