#Reblog week: Going into the way way back from before I even watched Adventure Time :0

[natti-ice]

Can I PLEASE have some Colin bridgerton smut? My man deserves it he's so overlooked by Anthony and Benedict that no one barely writes for him and it makes me sadd :(

Imagine you and Colin are on travel(or a honeymoon even) and he just ruins you on a balcony ofc you scold him for it but it's not like he would listen to you

Pairing: Colin Bridegerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+mdni, groping, teasing, clit play, semi public sex, p in v, creampie. (1.3k words)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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You're standing outside on the small terrace right outside your bedroom of the chateau you've been staying at for the past few days, the warm summer air blows gently across your skin as you watch the sun set in the distance. Your week has been quite hectic with all the traveling you and your now husband Colin have been doing, he always promised you that once you were wed he would show you the world and he's done very well at keeping his word. The day after your wedding the two of you set off into adventure, stopping off in many cities in England before working your way through Europe.

You were amazed at just how grand everything was outside of your city, you had grown so accustomed to the high social life you were brought up in, it never crossed your mind that others did not live the way you did, and when you found out, it was life changing. In such a short amount of time you had learned so much from the people you and Colin came across, he's quite the tour guide, he shows you to all of the best places for food and always seems to find the most unique forms of entertainment. You were so grateful to have such a special husband, most of the other suitors were bland and didn't care for culture but Colin was different, he had a thirst for exploration and he wanted you to come along.

Though he loved to travel around and see the sights, he also loved to spend time with you. More importantly, time alone... that man hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself since you both said "I do", his hands mindlessly wander around your body at any given moment, the feeling of his rough callused hands sent a rush through your body and he knew exactly what you were feeling. It was almost if he got off on making you shiver, seeing you try to pretend you don't feel anything when his fingers graze the back of your neck while talking to some local about the price of fish in his small town really gets him going.

You were lost in thought and didn't hear the footsteps creeping up behind you until suddenly long, toned, muscular arms wrapped around your frame causing you to jump. You hear his soft chuckle and immediately realize it was your husband, "my apologies dear, I didn't mean to startle you" your heart was already racing because of his sneak up but it pounded a little harder when his hands started to caress your sides so lovingly.

You let out a soft chuckle and lean against his chest "it's alright my love, my mind was in another word" you say, then you feel his hands starting to make their way up to your chest, his large calloused hands cup your breasts through the thin fabric of the nightie that clung to your body. A gasp gets caught in your throat as you feel yourself becoming more aroused, "Colin, we mustn't do this out here, the staff will see."

Colin's warm breath fanned on the nape of your neck leaving goosebumps in its wake as he whispers "we'll give them a good show, lord knows this place lacks entertainment." Despite your protests he continues to indulge in your body, you look over the balcony to see maids hanging up laundry to dry in the distance, surely if the looked up they could see you but in this moment you stopped caring. Your love and lust for Colin was much too strong to fight.

He moved one hand slowly down your front and lifted the hem of your dress to expose your undergarments that were now damp with your arousal, Colin runs his middle and ring fingers teasingly over your clothed slit sending a shiver down your spine. "Mmm, you're already so wet for me. Just how I like you." His dirty words make you feel like the only woman in the world, the pleasure he gives you is unlike anything you have ever experienced and you know you'll never find anything that will compare. His fingers found their way into your panties and he begun teasing your swollen clit with the pads of his fingers, you fought back moans, you didn't want him to know the effects he had on you but he was already well versed in your pleasure.

The hand that was still on your breast made its way you your neck, he held it gently but firm enough that you knew you weren't going anywhere.

"Tell me what you want, dear. Tell me what you crave." He whispers huskily into your ear, his desire for you strong in each of his words. His fingers slowly circled around your entrance, giving you a teasing taste of what's to come if you just ask.

"You," you let out breathlessly, "I want you." He hums as he is delighted by your response and pulls his hand from your clit making you whimper softly with need, he takes his hand off of your throat to quickly pull down his sleeping pants. You feel his hardened cock against your ass as he pulls up the fabric of your nightgown, his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and pull them down to your ankles. He spreads your legs with his knee and pushes your back forward slowly, your chest presses against the cool metal of the railing in front of you. He takes your hands and makes you grip the rail as he teasingly says "you might want to hold on, dear."

He lines himself up behind you and slowly runs his tip between your folds before pushing his length into your dripping pussy, your body shakes slightly as your senses are taken over by pleasure. He starts slow, rocking his hips against yours as he holds onto your waist firmly to keep you in place, his cock stretches you out deliciously making you moan softly. Your sounds encourage him to go harder, it's taking everything in him to not completely ruin you right now, he wants to prolong the experience to make sure you feel everything. Once he sets a good pace, that's when he starts to have fun with you. He snakes one hand under your bunched up dress and palms your bare tit, he groans into your ear as he pinches your hard nipple, "you feel so fucking good, fit so perfectly around my cock." You can't fight it anymore, you let your moans fly freely for the world to hear, you'll probably regret it later but you don't care right now.

You were certain everyone in the whole estate knew exactly what was taking place, your loud moans bounced off the walls as you came all over his cock, Colin was in complete ecstasy and couldn't care less about any onlookers. Let them watch. Let them see who owns you.

A few more pumps into your tight channel was all it took to send Colin over the edge, he groaned loudly as his hips bucked against you whilst his seed flooded your womb. He panted heavily as he slowly pulled out of you, both of your fluids covered his length in a beautifully raunchy mess. You slowly stood up straight and turned around to face him, the smile on his face matched yours as you both began to giggle softly. You feel so relaxed but you were still a bit embarrassed about allowing him to take you so publicly. "Colin Bridgerton, you are a very scandalous man" you say teasingly and lightly hit his left peck, he laughs heartily at your comment and takes your hand,  bringing it to his mouth and placing a soft, loving kiss to it. "My apologies, dear. You are too irresistible, I cannot contain my desire for you." He says with a smile and helps you straighten out your clothing before leading you back into your bedroom where he will most likely repeat the events that just transpired.

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Tag list: @let-love-bleeds-red @lovelyy-moonlight @themadhattersqueen @artzygurl

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 

His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 

He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 

“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 

He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 

“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 

“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 

“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 

Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 

Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 

He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 

“Have a good night,” you say at last. 

He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 

He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 

“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 

You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 

“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 

“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 

“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 

You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 

“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 

“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 

“We can start now--” 

“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 

Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 

“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 

“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 

“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 

“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 

She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 

“We could all go. Disappear.” 

“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 

“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 

Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 

“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 

“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 

“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 

She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 

“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 

“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 

“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 

She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 

“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 

“Kitty,” you murmur. 

Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 

“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 

You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 

“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 

“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 

“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 

[imtheiliad]

i made a short post here referring to my own experiences and wanted to expand on it, you can reblog both of these posts btw. I am only writing this all down because the way some of you have spoken about chris and his decision very much bothers me. trust when i tell you i do not want to completely lay out my trauma on the internet for all of you to read, but if it makes one of you understand why this works, why it is important, then it will have been worth it to me.

When I was 12 my father was diagnosed with frontal temporal dementia. the adults in my family and his doctors decided that it was best for him to be moved to a a full time care facility. The next year, and after hearing, seeing, and understanding my father's condition and where it would go, I, at thirteen years old, made the decision to say goodbye to him, that I did not want to hear about what levels of deterioration he had reached. I wanted to remember him as he was when he remembered me, and all the adventures and fun things we did together.

I made that decision. I made it because it was easier than watching him deteriorate, forget who his sister, his brother, my brother, my mother, and me. And I knew that at twelve and thirteen. It was never a decision I ever thought I would have to make, it wasn't a decision I should've had to make.

Now, the important part, over the next few years my decision was questioned and ignored by the adults in my life and even my brother, some of the questioning I can understand now that I am older, but it should have never reached the level it did. My aunt and uncle would openly discuss his condition over dinner when he came to visit, and I would run away to the restaurant bathroom and cry my eyes out until my mom came to get me. I was forced into visiting him in his care home, which ended with it causing far more harm than good. Only then was my decision somewhat respected, it took me being retraumatized for it to be taken seriously.

Despite all of that, I do not regret that decision.

I can't know how I would be different if none of that happened. But at this point in my live, eleven years and some therapy later, I am fairly certain I would be less traumatized, carry less resentment and anger, if maybe my mom had spoken up at those dinners and made arrangements to get updates without me next to her trying to enjoy my pizza. Had I not had to see my own father forget my name and then have some sort of mini medical emergency. Had my brother heard me in a way only a sibling could.

So, yes, Christopher at thirteen made a indefinite and truly most likely temporary decision to remove himself from an environment where he doesn't fully trust his sole and primary caregiver. He knows his dad loves him, Eddie made that so clear. And it could really be 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 weeks, and so on and so forth until Christopher is ready to come home. And him knowing that Eddie respected his decision and loves him no matter what is what is going to make that time shorter. If he had walked out with his father begging him to stay, to forgive him before he was ready, the chances of him coming back would in my opinion would be far slimmer than the circumstances under which he did leave.

with that i leave you this, "yeah people go away. and it's sad. and it hurts. but you know, not everyone goes away forever. sometimes they come back. and as much as we miss them, that's how happy we are to see them again."

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 4*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N faked their break-up when they got back to the wedding, and they haven’t seen each other since. But Y/N can’t handle the silence, and decides to confront him.”

Wc: 5.2k

Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: angst, overdue confessions, possessiveness, feral!Harry, elevator sex, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), overstimulation (slightly)

A/N: The final part is here!!! I hope you enjoyed this little ride. Thank you for the likes, reblogs and comments. I just wrote this in one sitting, and I haven’t actively proof read it, but I wanted to upload it anyway and I’ll go over it again tomorrow. Enjoy!

It has been three weeks since Harry and I flew back home. After our adventure in the broom closet, Harry’s entire energy had shifted and he was being distant, except when we needed to prove to everyone that we were a couple.

The flight was nothing short of excruciating, and a part of my soul, one that I had decided to lock up for my own sanity, hoped that the plane would never hit the ground. It had become evident that once back home, everything would go back to how it used to be. That stupid flight was the last time I could pretend Harry and I would ever stand a chance.

I was in awe with how fast I'd fallen for him, but seeing him around his family, having him touch me in the ways he did, and watching his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at me. I'm positive I'm making half of it up, especially because I've been reeling over everything that happened over the past week.

Harry and I had agreed, before we even stepped on the plane to Italy, to just tell our friends that it didn't work out once we got back. To say that we got into a fight on the way home, and we were back to hating each other's guts.

At the time I wondered how I was going to fake being heart broken in front of my friends, but I didn't have to lie. Zoey and Natalia were shocked to see how affected I was by this supposed break-up. They never said 'I told you so', but I know they were thinking it. Nonetheless, they stayed with me, talking about it all night.

I managed to twist the story to fit the narrative Harry and I told everyone. I just needed to talk to someone about the whole situation with Ophelia and how I felt foolish for ever thinking we'd have a shot in the first place.

A week after we got back, I saw him in the hallway of the literature building. He doesn't take any literary classes, so I was startled when I saw him standing there. He was alone, and looking at me, but he didn't walk up to me. I tore my gaze away from him and walked into the classroom. I still don't know what we talked about in that class, but I remember sitting by the window to watch him walk to the engineering building, hands buried in his pockets.

Thirty days have passed, and I'm still not entirely over it. Zoey and Natalia asked me to go out for drinks tonight, and I reluctantly accepted. I need to get out of this house and start moving on from the confusing mess I worked myself into.

We meet at a local Irish pub near the campus. Upon arriving, I almost immediately spot the girls sitting in one of the bigger booths. As I near, I spot a few of Malcolm's friends, and my ex himself in the booth too. Zoey sees me and comes running as fast as she can, pulling me away from the table.

"I am so sorry!" She begins, a stressed look on her face. "We texted you that he was here, but we weren't sure if you'd get them in time. I swear, we didn't know he was coming."

I throw her a smile, then pull her into a hug. Zoey stays still first, but slowly wraps her around me too. When I get out of the hug and look back at her, her wide eyes are filled with question marks.

"I really don't care, but thank you for trying to warn me." I rub her arms soothingly. I still sound sad, I know that, but I can't help it. Maybe a beer will help me relieve some of the weight I've been feeling on my shoulders these past few weeks.

"You really liked Harry, didn't you?" She asks me, and I nod, because it's in the past now so there is no point in denying it anymore. "Even though you dated for such a short time."

"He just... I don't know, Zoe. He felt so familiar, and I thought that meant something..." I shrug, feeling my heart strain as I talk. "But it didn't. My mistake."

Zoey gives me a sad smile, and suggests to go get a drink. I agree and we walk to the bar together, where we both order some kind of special beer we've never tasted before. We get caught up in a conversation, and our huge glasses are half-empty by the time we get back to the booth. I greet everyone, blowing a kiss to Natalia who sits in the middle of the booth. She shares the same worried look as Zoey, but at the sight of our faces, she relaxes a bit.

I feel Malcolm's burning stare on me. He is sitting with his arm around another girl, slouched back, fiddling with his empty glass on the table. I don't gift him the satisfaction of meeting his eye any more than necessary, and pick up the conversation with Zoey where we left it off.

An hour goes by, and no one dares to mention Harry so far, which makes me a lucky girl because I don't want to hear about him right now. But I think my mind jinxed it, unfortunately, because over Zoey, Natalia and my laughter, I hear Malcolm's voice say something I didn't even know I was dreading until the words come out of his mouth.

"Did you see that blonde chick Harry was with the other day?" He asks Noel, one of his idiot friends, who has always hated me for some reason. Noel nods intently.

"Oh yeah she was insanely hot, where the fuck did he even get her from?" He replies, and even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel the smirk in his voice.

But I don't really care about the malice with which those words were spoken. All I can think about is the word 'blonde', and how much I wish it isn't who I think it is.

I take a deep breath and finish my beer in one go. I have taken note of the awkward silence that dominates the table, but I don't let it get me self-conscious.

"I have to go." I say to Zoey, and start moving towards the end of the booth. She moves along with me and gets out of the booth so I can get out, but she looks concerned.

"Don't let Mal get to you. He's a jerk." She pleas, and I shake my head.

"He isn't getting to me. I just need to go, I need to see Harry." I explain, even though I'm risking the chance that Natalia and Zoey will physically restrain me from going.

"I'll drive you." I hear Natalia say from behind me. I turn around and see her getting out of the booth as she throws on her jacket.

"Where are you guys going?" Noel asks, a bit of an angry tone in his voice. Natalia turns around and scowls at him.

"To find guys whose balls have dropped."

With that, Zoey and Natalia escort me out of the pub, and we giggle as we get into the car.

"Okay, where does he live again?" Natalia says, getting her car GPS ready. I give her the address, which is actually quite close to the pub, and in under five minutes we have arrived at his apartment complex. I've never been here before, but I keep that to myself, of course.

"All right," Natalia and Zoey turn around to me, who is sitting in the backseat. "let us know when you're inside and if you want us to wait, okay?"

I nod at them, and they cheer me on as I get out of the car. Anxiety fills me as I make my way towards the door, and I feel like I might just throw up as I ring the bell. However, Harry doesn't answer it. To my luck, a woman opens the door from the inside, and holds the door for me so I can walk inside.

Utter fear and excitement make my body shiver as I stand in the empty elevator, waiting to reach the seventh floor where Harry lives. I speed walk towards his front door, but once I'm in front of her, I get increasingly more anxious about knocking.

What if Ophelia is still here? What if they're inside together? I'd look like a fool. Hell, I already do. What part of me even assumed he feels something for me in the first place. For all I know, he doesn't give two shits about me.

But the second I take a physical step back, I shake my head. No, I need to talk to him.

I knock a couple of times, but there is no answer. I stand there for a minute, then knock again. After three minutes of standing there in silence, my shoulders start to slump. He's not here. But there is a string of motivation that pulls me along anyway, and it makes me pick up my phone and dial his number.

Much like his door, he doesn't answer the phone, and I am connected to his voicemail. I take a deep breathe as the peep reaches my ear.

"Hi," I softly say when the peep has faded and it's up to me to leave him a message. "I... I'm uh, I'm at your apartment, but you're not home— Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have had to leave this voicemail."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the awkward trailing off, and clench my jaw to shut myself up before I say too much stupid shit.

"But uhm, I heard you were with— never mind. Can we talk? Let me know, okay?" I stumble, before hanging up. I sigh, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity as I walk back to the elevator.

When I'm back at the car again, the girls are quick to jump me with questions, but their voices fade at the sight of my disappointed face.

"We'll drop you off at your apartment, okay?" Natalia says as Zoey grabs my hand and squeezes it. I silently nod, feeling too stupid to talk or move.

It doesn't take long to get to my apartment, which is on campus. I huh the girls goodbye and make a beeline for the elevator, wanting to get into my bed as soon as possible and watch movies for the rest of the night.

When the elevator reaches my floor, I am quick to step out, but my eyes widen at the person I spot.

At my front door is Harry, whose head shoots towards me at the ping of the elevator. His eyebrows raise at the sight of me, like he's relieved to see me. In a matter of seconds, he's standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to say, my mind cloudy from the surprise of him standing at my front door after I just came back from standing at his front door.

"Making up for my stupidity." He says without missing a beat, a sad look in his eyes. It looks an awful lot like the way he looked at me in the broom closet as his energy completely shifted and he emotionally closed himself off from me for the rest of the trip.

"D– did you get my voicemail?" I ask him, but he shakes his head. I stare at him, doe eyed. Freaky.

"I was just at your apartment. You weren't there, and I thought you were with... Malcolm said he saw you with a blonde girl and I... oh, I don't know I'm rambling." I wave it off, shrugging my shoulders.

"I wasn't." Harry leans down to meet my eyes, and when he does, he says it again. "I wasn't."

He cups my face with his hands and waits for me to respond to him. I nod, softly, my stomach turning at the touch of his hands on my face, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

"Look, this whole thing is stupid. I caught feelings, and I think I saw things and found meanings that weren't there." I confess to him, the tension in my body already starting to fade away. "I just got weirdly jealous of Ophelia. I mean, here I was with this crush that had been developing for a couple weeks, while she has this deep history with you. I know I can't compete with someone like that."

Harry frowns as if I'm telling him lies, and it gets me a little bit insecure.

"But, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to apologize for if I made things weirder than they needed to be." I give him a half-smile. "So, sorry."

It stays silent between us, for a couple of minutes, but then Harry let's put a short laugh. My cheeks begin to heat up at the sound of it. Is he laughing at me?

I roll my eyes. I thought he was serious about talking to me, and now I feel stupid for what I just said. I go to walk past him, but he doesn't allow me to.

"Let me through." I demand, trying to push his arm away, but he just shakes his head.

"No."

"I'm not going to stand if you're just going to laugh at me. Let me through, Harry." I argue, but he doesn't budge. I groan loudly, then turn around and walk towards the elevator. I hear his footsteps behind me , but I ignore them.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching me as I push the button from the elevator over and over again, as if it has any effect on the speed with which it will arrive.

"Getting away from you." I grit through my teeth, a little sense of victory washing over me as the elevator door opens. I have no idea where I'm going, but I'm currently opting for tattling Harry to the janitor so he'll get kicked out of the building.

Not so much to my surprise, he follows, standing in front of the buttons. He smirks lazily as I try to move him away, and eventually manage to push the '1' button. The door closes, and I go to turn around, but Harry pulls me back against him, and suddenly the elevator starts shaking a bit, and we come to a halt. I push Harry's arm away from my waist and turn around to see his hand still around the emergency stop. My eyes widen at the realization of what he just did.

"What did you do?!" I cry out.

"We weren't done talking." He says, face turned serious again.

"We were." I argue, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes at me, just like I did before.

"We were not."

"Well, I was!"

"You can be so difficult sometimes, do you know that?" He tells me, voice strained with irritation.

"Says the guy who stopped the elevator!" I fight back.

"You won't hear me out." Harry reasons, and he's right. I don't. I'm too mad to hear him out right now. So, I don't respond to him with anything but a scowl. He takes a step closer, and I instinctively take one back, tearing my eyes off him and instead staring at the ground.

"And if you don't hear me out, you wouldn't know that Ophelia was never here. I haven't seen her since the wedding. They probably saw me with someone from class." He tells me, and while I feel relieved, I also feel like an idiot for ever having the plan to let janitor Hector throw Harry out of the building.

"And you also wouldn't know that when I was eighteen, I went to this pool party, and I saw this girl in a lilac bikini, playing volleyball in the pool with a beer in her hand," He steps closer again, and I let him. My brows knit and I meet his eyes. "and I fell in love with her right then and there."

I remember that party. I didn't know he was there, too.

"But she was dancing with someone else, so I hooked up with this girl named Marie. And when I went on a date with her, I discovered her best friend was the girl from the pool party." He explains, and I scoff. What a pretty fairytale like story, too good to be true. Harry shakes his head slowly, and then cups my face with his hands again.

"I swear to god, Y/N. I've liked you from the first time I laid eyes on you three years ago. I was young, and stupid and I'm sorry you lost that friendship because of me. I shouldn't have made a move on you while dating someone else, that was stupid and I can't take that back. But I got too excited with the fact that I could finally talk to you."

"You worry about me and Ophelia's history. Well, I've wanted you for three years. I've just been waiting for even a sliver of a chance, and I promised myself I wouldn't fuck it up when I got it." He tells me, and the generosity in his voice makes me want to cry. "I just got a bit nervous, after what happened those two nights. I didn't want it to be a one time thing. But I acted too distant, I shouldn't have done that. But I swear, from the moment I saw you, it's been you. Not Ophelia or anyone else, just you, okay? And if you don't believe me, let me add that my parents actually don't know Leila's gay."

I take a deep, shaky breath, unable to take my eyes off of him, and then push my lips onto his. It's sudden, and it's needy, and it stems from the overwhelming urge to be as close to him as I possibly can. I can't articulate what I feel but I can show it by the way I kiss him.

He doesn't waste anytime and deepens the kiss as soon as my arms have flung around his neck. His tongue dances around mine hungrily, but there is still this gentleness in his movements. He is holding back a bit, as if he kissing me like he really wants to will make me disappear. I decide to pull out of the kiss for a moment, and we stare at each other, breathless with the passion that is burning in both our bodies.

"I missed you." I blurt out, shocking myself and him. Harry's mouth forms into a wide smile, and dives his head straight into my neck. A moan escapes my mouth the second I feel him starting to suck on my skin.

"Harry... we probably shouldn't do this here." I protest ever so slightly, because I actually do not care but I'd rather have him in my bed than against the hard wall. "Let's go back to my place."

He kisses his way up to my jaw, and gums in agreement. I go to step away from him to push back the emergency stop, but Harry doesn't let me. He puts his left hand around my neck and kisses me again, while his right hand hikes up my skirt. Upon stopping the kiss, he leans into my ear.

"We'll get out of here once you've had an orgasm. Consider it an apology for laughing just now." He purred. The combination his heavy breathing and his fingers slipping into my panties makes me shut my eyes tightly. He strokes my pussy with two of his fingers, getting a feel of my wetness.

"Poor girl, I've got you all soaked, don't I?" He taunts as he begins to rub my clit. I moan a 'yes', too aroused to be able to handle the slow teasing. I just want to come so we can get out of here and he can fuck me on my bed.

"Harry, please..." I plead with him, and somewhat of a growl leaves his mouth. His fingers disappear from my heat and I whine at the sudden coolness of my underwear's fabric in my pussy.

I hear the jingle of his belt and I look down to see him taking his rock hard cock out of his pants. Before I can even ask what he's doing, Harry grabs my ass and lifts me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around him, gasping at the feel of his cock against my wet folds.

"I'm going to give you my cock baby, and you're going to take it like the good girl you are, alright?" He commands, taking my underwear between both of his hands and ripping it apart. I widen my eyes at the sight of him pushing away my torn panties, but I'm too turned on from it to get mad.

"Harry, we're in an elevator. What if other people—"

"Do I look like I give a shit about other people? They can take the stairs for all I care." He interrupts me, voice raised a bit. I shake my head ever so hesitantly. "Now, do you want my cock or not?"

He slaps my thigh when I don't respond to him immediately, so I nod as fast as I can.

"Yes, I want it. Please." I look at him, and he leans in to kiss me again. This time it's harsh, and sloppy and needy, the passion having turned into a rough fire that can only be put out with a hard fuck.

He stops the kiss, aligns himself with my pussy, and then pushes himself into me. I let out a shameless cry at the feeling of his dick gliding into me. It's so easy because of how wet I am, and I like how big he is and how it hurts the first minute.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've dreamed of this, love." He starts out slow, knowing his size is something to get used to, but I want none of that.

"Go faster, Harry. I don't care if it hurts, I just want you." I gasp into his mouth in between kisses, and he groans loudly before pushing himself into me with a sharp trust that gives me a burning feeling in my core. It's like I've turned a switch, because Harry's pace is unbelievable and I find it might be too much to handle. Every thought I have fades away until the only thing I can think about is him.

I moan like we're in an isolated room and watch his beautiful face and the curls that fall in front of his face because of the harshness of the thrusts.

"Ah! Fuck, fuck, Harry!" The only words I'm able to articulate from all that are flying through my brain.

"Thaaat's it baby. You get what you asked for " He smirks, his fingers finding their way to my clit. I cry out from the moment he starts to rub circles on it, and I know I won't last very long anymore.

"Are you gonna cum for me already, baby? Are you gonna cream all over my thick cock?" He asks and I can't help but scream out. My tits are almost spilling out of my top because of the way Harry's fucking me against this wall.

"Yes, yes, please! I'm gonna—" I can't even finish my sentence before my orgasm takes ahold of my body, mind and soul. My walls are pulsating around Harry and I'm pulling on his hair for some kind of support as I fall apart. I try to catch my breath, but I'm not able to because Harry drills into me even harder than before.

"H– Harry what are you, oh..." My eyes roll to the back of my head at the amount of stimulation that I'm currently feeling. My grip on his head loosens and I slowly start becoming nothing but a rag doll for him to fuck stupid.

"You're mine now." He growls, and I nod at him, too out of breath to say anything. "And I'm going fuck you until I cum inside your sweet pussy, and you'll hold it in there until we get to your apartment. Do you understand?"

I nod at his request, but he isn't pleased with that. He wraps one of his hands around my neck and squeezes ever so slightly.

"I said: do you understand?"

"I understand." I sputter out, and with that he is back to pounding himself into me. He doesn't take his time, and I know it's because he needs this release just as much as I do. His thumb finds its way to my button again and he continues rubbing and rubbing until I'm nothing but a shivering mess under him.

"Look at you, getting fucked stupid in an elevator by your boyfriend. Such a little slut, all for– fuck! All for me, huh?" He rambles and nothing but words of agreement leave my mouth at his dirty words as I feel my legs tremble with the arrival of a second orgasm.

I push Harry's face against mine to muffle my own scream, but the way he moans into me doesn't quite help my case.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum, baby." He says, and I gather all my mental strength to return some of that dirty talk he's been providing me with.

"Cum for me, please. I need it so fucking bad, baby. Make me yours." I mewl and his thrusts become more erratic with every word I utter, and by the time I'm done talking, I feel the hot spurts of his cum coating my walls.

We're both unable to talk for a minute. We stand there, catching our breath with our foreheads pressed against each other.

"I'm gonna pull out, baby." Harry says after another minute of coming back to earth. I nod tiredly, and hiss as he removes his dick from me. He slowly lowers my legs to the ground, but I hold on tight to his neck because my legs need a few seconds to adjust to holding up my entire body weight.

Harry puts on his pants again and shimmies down my skirt for me before pushing the emergency stop. The elevator goes up almost immediately, but it feels like forever, especially with the feeling of Harry's cum starting to leak out of me. I do my best to hold it in, but it's hard when your legs have just done the most intense work-out they've ever done in their entire life.

When the elevator door opens on my floor, we are met with another couple, who looks at us with a frown when met with the state of us. It doesn't help that the elevator smells like sex now, so we walk out as quickly as we can, Harry adding a cheeky 'goodnight' before we rush to my door.

We both burst into laughter the second the elevator closes and I open my front door for us to get in. Once inside, Harry picks me up and Carrie's me to my couch, where he lays me down on my back. He lies on top of me, partly holding himself up so I don't crush under him, and gives me a deep, long kiss.

His hands stroke through my hair as our lips brush against each other. It's delicate and I could cry at the softness of it all. Harry pulls out of the kiss to analyze my face. He takes in every feature, as do I, and after a bit of silence he speaks up.

"I can't believe you let me have you." He says, those stars in his eyes that I love so much.

"I can't believe your parents don't know Leila's gay."

That makes him laugh, and in time me, because his laugh is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, apart from his moans.

"You liked me for three years." I state what he said earlier, and he nods a genuine nod.

"Three and half, to be exact."

"You're crazy." I shake my head with a chuckle.

"Deal with it. Your boyfriend is a crazy guy." He says and kisses my neck again, before moving away from me.

"Where are you going?" I ask with a frown, not happy with him just going away out of nowhere. I roll my eyes when he hikes up my skirt once again and starts kissing my thigh.

"Harry, I already came two times. I don't know if I'll be able to come."

"Ssh, baby. Just want a taste." He says before attaching his mouth to my clit. I let out a shriek at how intense the feeling is, especially in regards to the sensitivity of my clit.

I become a moaning mess right away, and my hand finds its way to his hair. He sucks and licks long stripes all over my pussy. He lifts his face for a moment, mouth and nose glistening with our arousal and pushes two of his fingers further and further into my mouth. I suck on them with a satisfied moan, until he retracts them and shoved them into my already filled up hole.

"Oh, m– oh my god!" I whimper as his fingers pump in and out of me, and he knocks me out of the park when he starts flicking his tongue over my clit.

I know my orgasm is closing in, but I've never experienced three orgasms in one night before, and I have to say I'm slightly scared of this one. Everything feels so intense that I don't know how I'm going to react to this third one.

A string of curses and moans are the only thing that leave my mouth as I shut my eyes so tight that I swear I see stars, and my entire body pulsates as he helps me ride out my high. I don't even have the strength to open my eyes until Harry gets back on eye level with me.

"Open your eyes baby." He whispers, his fingers caressing my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I whine incoherently.

"I know love, I know. I'll get you all cleaned up and then we' go to sleep, alright." He tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek before getting up and scooping me up from the couch. I already feel awake enough to walk myself, but I keep quiet so he can carry me to my bathroom.

He strips both of us from our clothes and turns on the shower. He cleans me up, even though I insist I do it myself, and afterwards he also fancies himself in charge of what I'm wearing to bed. He picks out a simple, oversized Metallica t-shirt I got from my dad, and helps me put it on before getting into bed with me.

I have to say I am quite sleepy, so my eyes fall shut quite easily. Harry keeps on playing with my now wet hair, making me even more drowsy.

"I won't mess this up." He says, mostly to himself, I think. But I respond anyway.

"I won't let you."

[obsessedelusional]

Oblivious

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader

summary ✦ Bella and you have been friends for a few years now. Didn’t take long for them to a form a crush on you. While visiting after not seeing you for a while, they decide it’s time to come clean about their feeling. Too afraid, they keep dropping hints. What happens when Bella finally finds the courage to tell you?

word count ✦ 2,000ish

authors note ✦ THANKS for all the love <33

masterlist

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“So who’s your celebrity crush then?” Bella asks her best friend of years, intentionally after talking openly about their celebrity crush. You share a striking resemblance too, hoping maybe this information would spark something in you. Your too oblivious to connect the dots.

��Hmm…. Right now?” You pause in a attempt to shuffle through all the random celebrities you’ve found attractive.

“Probably Kristen Stewart.” Bella is surprised by you answer.

“Kristen Stewart?” They ask, slack jawed.

“Yeah I rewatched all the twilight movies last week. I used to be team Edward but now I think I’m team Bella. It’s actually absurd that we let those men get away with everything they did.” You explain, going off on a tangent about Twilight. Bella half listens, trying to understand if you said Kristen because you might be gay or because you liked twilight.

“She has a whole ass fiancé, I’m shit out of luck.” You sigh dramatically before going back to your phone. Bella forces a laugh, more confused than when they started this conversation.

“But doesn’t matter, I got my own Bella.” You tease with a wink unknowingly adding to Bella’s distress.

“Edward was a creep, a whole ass stalker. Imagine if she woke up when Edward broke in to bedroom to watch her sleep. If my boyfriend did that shit, he’d get kicked to the curb so quick.” Bella groans out loud on accident causing you to look up from your phone.

“Okay I know you don’t like him but-“ You speak quickly interrupted.

“Yeah cause he’s a dick. Way worse than Edward Cullen ever was.”

“First of all, you’ve never seen twilight. Second of all, I don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone I’ve ever dated.” You respond, your tone sassy. Bella doesn’t respond only because she cannot pretend why she’s never liked your new boyfriends. Your “love” for them never lasted long, moving onto the next one with ease. They wished desperately you’d forget about the male population as a whole.

“It’s because I like you.” Bella says, not entirely registering the words as they come out.

“I like care about you, you deserve someone better.” Nice save, Bella thinks. Internally screaming to themself you deserve them.

“Aww I like care about you,” you respond sarcasm heavy on your voice, eyes on your phone. Bella rolls her eyes in response. That’s one thing Bella loved so badly about you, you were just as sarcastic and could always banter with you. More often than not they couldn’t keep up with your attitude.

Bella was in town for a few weeks, break between their filming. She had missed you so much the l last few months, promising her self she was gonna do something about it this time. When it’s time for the two of you to part, Bella steals on you hoodies.

“Where the fuck are you going with that?” You ask mostly joking, when you notice.

“I want it,” Bella argues. Not wanting to admit that she’s been stealing from you on the low. Just taking little things, now and then. Nothing you’d ever miss but it means everything to Bella. To have a piece of you while she’s off on her job related adventures. Sometimes even using your shirt as a pillow case when they really miss you.

—

Bella had a plan to tell you how they felt the next day. Before you spring going to a party’s with you. Bella was older than you, you just graduated high school. Still caught up in the high school bullshit. Thankfully they were visiting during your summer vacation before you headed off to university.

“These are for you.” Bella barley whispers, handing you the bouquet of flowers. Your favorite ones. After you sprung the party on them, they decided they’d just do it before. Maybe it would be enough to convince you to stay in with them instead.

“Thanks bestie,” you respond. Bestie? Bella groans internally, discouraged by your friendly pet name. Chickening out on their original plans, mentally throwing out the monologue they had planned for you.

“I saw them and thought of you.” Bella admits.

Once in Bella’s car, they purposefully play Jenny by Studio Killers. Signing along passionately, hoping maybe you’d hear the lyrics and they’d resonate with you. The songs about a girl having a crush on her best friend. You just nod along, never commenting on the subject of it. Bella doesn’t show it but they irritation is growing. Wanting nothing more than to spill their feelings for you, always coming up short when it’s time to do so.

—

“Do we really have to go?” Bella whines only to stop when you grab their hand and pull them closer to the door. Once at the door, you face Bella your back to the door.

“It’s just a little kickback, maybe 20 people tops. You’ll be okay! I’ll be by your side the whole time. I promise.” You reassure Bella and they let out a defeated sigh. A small laugh leaves your mouth bringing a smile to Bellas. The door swings open, some dude from your school attempting to leave. He pushes past the two of you, not saying a single word.

“Rude.” You mutter under you breath, leading Bella inside. Finding some of your friends, introducing them to Bella. Bella’s wondering what the fuck she’s doing here? Oh yeah because you asked and that’s all it took. They couldn’t say no especially when you start pouting, eyes staring directly into Bella’s.

“Sorry I really thought it’d be smaller.” You apologize to Bella some time later, the two of you sat in a group of friends and strangers. Bella doesn’t drink so you don’t either, watching everyone get drunk without the two of you.

“We should do something. Play a game.” Someone suggests, everyone agrees.

“We should play spin the bottle.” Some suggests, most people agree. You look over to Bella who’s shaking their head no.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.” Bella says, standing up going to sit out of the group. Still close enough to be part of the conversation but not in the immediate circle.

“You playing?” Some drunk dude asks you. You look over to Bella who just gives you a smile.

“I guess so.” You say, thinking it’ll be a funny story to tell someday.

“Fuck yeah,” he responds. You sit and wait as one of your friends finds a bottle lays in the center of the group all while explains the rules. A player spins the bottle, and must kiss the person to whom the bottle points when it stops spinning. You watch as people take turns, watching as people kiss. Most kisses only last a few seconds. It’s almost your turn, the girl before you spins the bottle. Landing on the boy next to you, she giggles before reaching over you to kiss him. Their kiss is more aggressive than the others, lasting much longer. People cheering them on as they continue.

“I don’t think I’m gonna live up to that performance.” You joke, as they pull away from each other. Nervously you spin the bottle, following it with your eyes as it spins in a circle. It lands on a girl, you barley know. Before you can say anything people are chanting for y’all to just do it.

“I mean if she’s down I’m down.” The girl shrugs her shoulders, looking at you for a response.

“Sure?” you say and for whatever reason it comes out as a question. She starts crawling towards you, when she’s only a few inches away from your face a voice interrupts the moment.

“What about your boyfriend?” It’s Bella speaking. She didn’t care about your boyfriend, using that as an excuse to make you not want to participate in this game anymore.

“What about him? Like you said he’s a dick.” You respond, looking back at the girl sat in front of you waiting for a kiss. Cheering resumes as you two get closer.

“Absolutely not.” Bella speaks over the loud noises, pulling you from the floor with a strength you didn’t know existed. Dragging you through the crowd, straight out the front door. Sounds of booing is all you can hear as you leave.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, once Bella lets go of you hand. Bella paces back and forth, it’s obvious they want to say something but can’t get it out.

“You’re my best friend. I couldn’t let you do that.” Bella speaks, pacing coming to a stop to face you.

“Actually I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Bella says, breaking your heart.

“All because I was going to kiss that girl?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

“Oh my fucking god. Do you listen like ever? How much more obvious do I have to be?” They ask, louder than before.

“What-“ Your cut off by Bella’s hands cupping your face in swift motion affectionately placing their lips on yours, you move your lips with theirs. Letting your arms fall to your sides. You’re the one to pull away, overwhelmed by all the feelings that came out in that moment.

“I understand if you’re mad at me. But I would of rather died than watch you have your first kiss with a woman not be me.” Bella says before you can fully process what just happened.

“I ruined our friendship.” They say, attempting to read your reaction but your speechless unable to comprehend.

“No you didn’t,” you respond.

“I want to ruin our friendship. I like you.” Bella speaks.

“I like you too.”

“No I like like like you.” Bella says, emphasizing on the last two likes.

“Do you listen like ever?” You ask, mocking their tone when they said that you moments ago.

“I like you.” You say again, emphasis on like. Bella’s eyes narrow on you, looking you in your eyes.

“So if I kissed you again? You wouldn’t stop?” They smirk.

“I don’t know, try me.” You tease, chewing on your lip. They do exactly that, pulling you into their embrace before kissing you for the second time.

—

After a heavy make out session, in the front lawn of that party you guys head back to Bella’s car. This time they open your door, something Bella has never done before. Stealing a kiss in the process then making their way to the drivers side. Once in there’s a silence between you two, sinking in what just happened. They make the drive home, no words are exchanged. Half way there, their hand rests on your thigh giving it a squeeze before going back to driving. You don’t even realize until it’s too late to turn back but Bella’s pulling into their apartment. This was not the original plan but plans change. Parking in their normal parking space.

“How long have you had feelings?” You ask as soon as the car shuts off.

“Oof,” they think out loud.

“Since forever basically.” They admit.

“Same.” You admit causing Bella’s jaw to drop.

“There’s absolutely no way that is possible.” Bella says, not believing you in the slightest.

“We met right before your career really started to take off. I didn’t think it was right to throw that on you while you were out there living your best life.” You explain.

“My best life would of been you by my side, I can’t believe we wasted so many years.” Bella sighs, frustrated.

“We’ll I guess we’re just gonna have to make up for lost time,” You smile, intertwining your fingers with theirs. Playing with the rings they always wore, something you loved about them.

“We better get started, only have two weeks and six days to make up for three years.” Bella grins before instructing you to get out of the car. You do so and Bella meets you outside of the passenger door. Pushing you softly into the side of the car, kissing you in the process. Hands waisting no time explore your body, taking you by surprise. You had never imagined Bella being so forward.

“Where’s this boldness coming from?” You ask when you pull away to breath.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said, we need to make up for all those lost years.” They grin, leading you towards their front door. Your excitement grows as they lead you toward their bedroom, ready to let Bella do whatever they want.

[bihansthot]

Title: Super Self-indulgent Shark Week Spectacular

Rating: G (there is one swear though)

Pairing: Bi-Han x Sol (me), Tomas x Hallvard

Summary: So it’s a little late for Shark Week, but I finally sat down and finished up my super self-indulgent selfship Shark Week spectacular. Feel free to join me on my little adventure as I get to my love of Shark Week with my youngest son for the first time. Thank you lovelies for encouraging me to split my time between reader inserts and self ship content. I don’t really expect anyone to read this but if you enjoy domestic fluff an sharks you might enjoy it.

Author’s Note: As always if you enjoy this please feel free to like, comment and or reblog and please feel free to ask any self ship questions you have, I’m always happy to talk about it. Based on my previous poll, I did drop the tonal accents on the Chinese words, so there are smattering of Chinese names, and familiar terms. Thank you all again for encouraging me to write this and special thanks to @kutleki who also shares my love of Bi-Han and sharks lol

“Bingbing’s asleep? You’re sure? You didn’t just put her in her bed and shut off the light and just walk out did you?” I ask raising an eye at my husband.

“Babe, what do you take me for? First of all, I read her a story until she literally blacked out, then I snuck out of her grasp, tucked her in, and left the room. She’s sound asleep.” Bi-Han answers as he grabs a bowl of popcorn from the kitchen.

“Hmm, ok,” I reply, skeptical that my husband was successful in putting our almost three-year-old to bed. I turn to my sons, “you sure you’re not going to get nightmares, Xue?”

My youngest son gives me an indignant face that I’ve seen his father make too many times, “Mama I’m 9! I’m not a little boy! Sharks aren’t going to give me nightmares! You and Baba kissing all the time will though.” He mimes vomiting and wraps his arms around his stomach and hunching over as if he was in pain.

“Try living with it as long as we have,” my oldest twins answer in unison as they pile onto the couch next to me, leaving no room for their father.

Bi-Han arrives with the popcorn and gives me an upside-down kiss, “oh yeah, total nightmare fuel,” he chuckles and hands the twins the bowl of popcorn.

I shiver slightly and zip my hoodie up a little more, I love spending time with my husband and my boys, but being surrounded by cryomancers with no natural resistance required proper clothing.

Bi-Han notices my slight shiver, “need a blanket babe?” He doesn’t wait for my answer and makes his way to our bedroom to grab one of the fur duvets from our plush king-sized bed. He makes his way back in the living room and the temperature dips again and I’m grateful when he wraps the blanket around my shoulders. He narrows his eyes and looks around before looking at the twins, “and where exactly am I supposed to sit?”

“On the floor with Xue?” Xiao-Han, my oldest, answers confidently.

“Yes, that’s exactly where you boys belong,” Bi-Han glares at the twins while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Y-yes baba,” they answer sheepishly as they slink onto the floor next to their younger brother.

“Is everyone finally settled,” I ask, slightly annoyed with having to wait this long to start watching Shark Week because at the rate we’re going it will be Xue’s bedtime before we can even watch one episode. I grab the remote as my hoard of boys answer affirmatively and I’m just about to press play on the DVR when the door opens wide with a clunk.

“Sorry, we’re late Sol!” Tomas’ voice greets me as he’s followed by Hallvard and Kuai Liang all showing themselves inside our dwelling.

I blink and look over at Bi-Han, “you invited your brothers and didn’t tell me?”

“Well you said it was family night, so yeah? I didn’t think you’d mind,” Bi-Han gives me an odd look as if he didn’t understand what the problem could possibly be.

I scowl at him before turning my attention to our extended family, “guys keep it down, Bingbing is asleep.” I hiss, hoping my boisterous in-laws didn’t wake the baby.

Tomas at least has the decency to look ashamed of himself, “sorry Sol,” he whispers as they make their way to the living room.

Bi-Han stands up, “I’m going to make more popcorn one bowl isn’t going to be enough.” I give him a dismayed look, “babe it’s ok, the boys don’t have school tomorrow, it’s Friday night, and Air Jaws will wait for you, I promise.”

“What about Colossus though? And Deep Blue and Duchess? Are they going to wait?” I sulk as I rattle off the names of Great Whites made famous over the years.

Bi-Han throws another package of popcorn in the microwave and pushes the button while he chuckles, “they’re already recorded qīn, they’ll be fine.”

Kuai Liang settles on the couch next to me and I feel the chill of all my cryomancers dissipate slightly, “do you want me to go check on Bingbing and make sure she’s still asleep?”

I sigh, “if you don’t mind, I really wouldn’t mind letting her stay up, but she’s not even three yet, I don’t know if the sharks would scare her or not. I was about Xue’s age when I started watching Shark Week even if it is a bit older than that, but I suppose I did have a lot of picture books about sharks when I was younger, but not two years old, younger.”

“I don’t mind, she’s my precious niece,” Kuai Liang replies as he gets up and heads down the hallway towards the kids' bedrooms, and my nice air of warmth is gone. A moment or two passes before he comes back with Bingbing nestled excitedly in his arms, “she uh wasn’t asleep.”

“I was afraid of that,” I hold my arms out to take my daughter from her Uncle, but Kuai Liang makes a face and hugs her closer as he sits down with her. I shrug in defeat as he cuddles Bingbing closely and starts baby-talking to her in Chinese, her little face lights up and she tries her best to babble back to him. I feel inadequate, Bi-Han and I have been together 15 years and I can barely string a sentence together in Mandarin, and my two-year-old speaks it better than I can, in my defense Bi-Han is not exactly the best teacher, I try and justify though I find it hard to believe my lie when all four of my children are multilingual and I still need the help of google translate to go to the market. I scowl and turn to my brother-in-law, “cover her eyes if it gets too gruesome.”

“Will do,” Kuai Liang agrees and resumes playing with Bingbing by trying to eat her hands which she is absolutely living for, and squealing with delight.

“Did Uncle Liang play with me when I was Bingbing’s age?” Xue asks and I can’t tell if he’s jealous of his little sister or genuinely curious.

“Are you stupid,” Xiao-Bing answers before I can, “Uncle Liang always played with you when you were meimei’s age, he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I played with you and Xiao-Han when you were babies too, you used to love answering your foot like it was a phone, it was so cute,” Kuai Liang reassures the twins, making sure they all know their Uncle spent equal time with them.

“Hey don’t forget about us!” Tomas chimes in stealing a handful of popcorn from the twins, “he’s not your only Uncle! Uncle Halle and I have been here the whole time too!”

I chuckle, “yes you’ve all had plenty of Uncles to look after and play with you boys ever since you were born, I don’t know who was more nervous when I was pregnant first, your Baba or your Shushu.”

“Mama, I don’t wanna hear about Han and Bing again, I want to watch sharks!” Xue pouts and shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

I sigh and look over towards the kitchen, “I want to watch sharks too but we have to wait for Baba.”

Bi-Han dumps the popcorn in a bowl and heads back into the living room passing the bowl to Hallvard, “are we finally good? Do we need a third bowl of popcorn?” He asks hovering next to the couch not wanting to risk sitting down.

“We can always make more if we need it,” Tomas quips. “Sit down gēgē, I think if Sol has to wait any longer she’s going to go cage diving with the sharks herself.”

I finally open up the Discover Plus app on my phone and connect it to our living room tv and press play on the latest installment of Air Jaws: the Final Frontier, excited to be able to see my favorite, breaching Great White Sharks. I’m greeted with a pleasant, familiar face as Andy Brandy Cassagrande introduces the premise of trying to find breaching sharks in New Zealand. I curse under my breath and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong babe, I thought you liked this guy?” Bi-Han asks while stealing some popcorn from his younger, adopted brother.

“It’s not Andy I’m upset about, it’s those damn orcas, Port, and Starboard I’m upset about. Why have they not been tagged or dragged off to Sea World or something, they’re decimating the Great White population in South Africa and forcing the sharks from their homes,” I complain glaring at the mention of the problematic whales.

“Babe, it’s nature. Discovery Channel can’t just swoop in and save the sharks single handily,” Bi-Han replies, and while he’s right the answer still rubs me the wrong way.

“Yeah well, next family trip is South Africa, you’re going to rip those orca’s spines out and I’m going to go cage diving with the sharks and boop their snoots,” I state bluntly as I’m suddenly met with stares from my boys and in-laws. “What? The orcas deserve it!”

Bi-Han hisses in my ear, “the boys aren’t supposed to know I can rip a spine out I thought, that was your rule if I remember correctly. You didn’t want them exposed to the assassin side of the Lin Kuei, only the martial arts aspects and I agreed that the boys wouldn’t be assassins.” Bi-Han seems upset and worried that I had said too much.

“Fuck,” I whisper and suddenly flush red at my mistake, “kidding! Only kidding! I just hate those orcas so much that I wish Baba was able to take care of them so easily!” I try and talk my way out of my predicament, but thankfully my children seem engrossed with the sharks circling the cage diver to notice my backtracking.

“Smooth qin, real smooth,” Bi-Han rolls his eyes and gropes around for the popcorn bowl before Tomas helps him out and moves the bowl under his hand.

“I mean Baba’s crazy strong, if it’s possible to rip a spine out, which I don’t think it is, he probably could,” Xiao-Han replies casually as if we discussed the physical aspects of dismemberment all the time.

“It’s not possible,” Bi-Han is quick to inform his son, trying to get the topic onto something else, “woah! That shark is huge! Look at it!”

“Why is he so big?” Xue asks, clearly spellbound by the magnificent animal circling the cage and nosing at the seal decoy.

“She, pumpkin, that’s a girl shark, they’re much bigger than the male sharks, so anytime you see a really big shark it’s most likely a girl,” I inform my youngest son.

“Why are the girls so much bigger,” he asks, clearly confused by this considering his own parents' dynamic was very much the opposite.

“Well, they have to be really big to fend off predators and to be able to take care of their babies,” I reply finally stealing a bit of popcorn for myself.

“But Baba keeps the family safe,” Xue insists, “you’re too small Mama.”

“Things are different with sharks, shark mamas are big and strong because shark babas don’t stay around and help the mother shark raise the babies, they do everything on their own so they have to be able to take care of themselves and their babies,” I explain before adding. “You’re right though I can’t take care of you all as well as Baba can, which is why we keep him around,” I laugh slightly and pull the blanket closer as I snuggle up to Bi-Han.

“You also keep me around for my excellent dumpling skills, don’t forget that,” Bi-Han laughs as if he doesn’t bring anything to the relationship outside of his brute strength and culinary prowess.

“At least the children wouldn’t starve if I spontaneously died,” I laugh as I’m swatted by my brother-in-law.

“Sol! Don’t say things like that in front of the baby, you’ll upset her!” Kuai Liang scolds as he covers Bingbing’s ears.

“You better not spontaneously die, Baba’s dumplings are good and all but I can’t eat them every single day, besides there’s no way he’ll remember to buy us the Oreo mooncakes, we’ll just end up with boring sesame, and the crappy ones with nuts and ham Shushu likes,” Xiao-Bing starts while Xiao-Han finishes the complaint while stuffing popcorn into their mouths.

“So glad my cooking and ability to buy the right mooncakes is why you want me alive,” I sulk and pull the blanket around me higher.

Bi-Han shoots the boys a look and they immediately mumble, “sorry mama.”

I try and ignore the twins' reasonings to keep me alive and remind myself they are teenagers and I’m lucky they don’t tell me they hate me on a daily basis as I finally let myself get sucked into Andy’s hunt for breaching sharks in New Zealand. We watch the rest of the special with little commentary aside from the occasional “woah!” from my youngest son. The special ended with a super satisfying breaching Great White and potential hope that the Great Whites might have found a new home in New Zealand. Thankfully Bingbing was sound asleep in Kuai Liang’s arms and didn’t seem to have been scared of the sharks she did end up seeing and I can’t help but think to myself “she’s my daughter, of course she isn’t scared of sharks,” it feels surreal but so satisfying to sharing something that had been such a big part of my childhood with my own children. It was hard to believe Shark Week was celebrating its 35th anniversary but my boys were so amazed by it and intrigued that I hoped it continued another 35 and was something I’d be able to share with my grandchildren.

“Can we watch another Mama?” Xue asks, he had abandoned the empty bowl of popcorn in favor of his stuffed polar bear because of course all my children received stuffed polar bears when they were children. It wasn’t just a nod to their father but it was also special to me because when I was a very sickly child growing up in the hospital a kindly nurse had gifted me a stuffed polar bear after my first major heart surgery. I often thought it was fate that I had ended up with my Polar Bear.

“It is getting kind of late, but I suppose one more won’t hurt,” I agree and queue up Jaws vs the Meg and snuggle closer to my husband, my heart overflowing with happiness as my family is all together to enjoy this. I’m a little sad my own brothers aren’t here to experience it, but they haven’t seen the boys since my Father’s 70th bday, and have never met Bingbing. It was hard living another world away sometimes, but I wouldn’t change my life for anything.

“What’s this one about Mama?” Xue’s voice cuts through my slight melancholy.

“This one? Only the coolest sharks ever! The Great White vs their prehistoric ancestor the Megalodon! It’ll be awesome!” I perk up with the excitement of my two favorite sharks being showcased in one special.

“Cool!” The boys echo as we settle back in to enjoy the special.

I definitely hit the jackpot as I look around at my extended family, and happily push play.

[browzerhistory]

i've acquired one encouragement (thank you @fleshy-reblogs)

ok so her name is menura and she's a human artificer. since it's kind of a silly campaign i didn't go too hard on her backstory; she has a guild artisan background and her thing is that her parents are both master locksmiths and wanted to raise her in the family business, and she was really gifted, but she used her talent for Evil and mostly just stole shit. eventually her parents got fed up, cut her off and kicked her out, with the instructions to make an honest living or never come back, so she decided to try her hand at adventuring.

i wanted her to be an artificer because our campaign concept is that there's a rift in reality that's allowing a sci-fi, futuristic world to leak into the usual medieval fantasy dnd world we start in. i'm hoping as the story progresses she can learn about the insane future weapons and tech and use them. plus i haven't played an artificer before so yknow, broadening my horizons and such.

unfortunately she is also the most unlucky character i have ever had the misfortune to create. our first session we have a classic "party meets in a tavern" and our 'bard' badly fails at singing a nice song, which makes everyone in the bar mad at him. menura is just hanging out nearby and watching it go down but like three people start beefing with HER for NO REASON. only because another member of our party caused a ruckus outside did she escape without a fight.

shortly after we're going into the fields outside town to check on the local wizard, whose tower has been diagonal and whom nobody has heard from for a week or so. menura opens the door and peeks in to make sure he's not dead, and from behind a kitchen table, he THROWS LIGHTNING AT HER and barely misses. he's on guard because a missile from the rift knocked over his tower despite his enchantments.

the rest of the first session passes without major issue. shortly into our second session though, we find a small structure that came from the rift and investigate. however theres goblins Also investigating and for some goddamn reason our 'bard' uses color spray and overrolls SO HARD that he turns one of the goblins to RED MIST.

immediately we get scared bc theres still like seven goblins and we are all level 2 (and our gnome is Incapacitated due to drinking, amd 2 of our other players couldnt make it). then i think: hey, menura can speak goblin, maybe she can diffuse the situation!

reader. i rolled a 1.

one of the goblins immediately jumps for a stab, but she dodges and lands a hit while their back is turned. another goblin attacks and fucking one taps her and she goes down.

our 'bard' manages to handle the rest of the fight all by himself and at one point uses thunder wave, causing menura's poor carcass to be launched into several more goblins and knock them over. she gets revived once the rest of the goblins retreat but it's not a great way to start a campaign huh.

one long rest later and our wizard is cooking some breakfast on a mysterious box he got from the structure. the main issue here being that it's steadily getting hotter and hotter and the wizard can't stop it (it's a bomb he was cooking breakfast on a BOMB).

a big crack forms in one of the sides and everyone dives behind trees. dm has us roll for how lucky we get (a worrying sentence to jear from a dm in any situation).

reader. i rolled a 3.

thankfully, this time, menura was Not onehit, but she failed to get her arm behind the tree and it was straight in the blast.

there was no visible damage, but she can feel something deeper than her skin, deeper even than her bones, taking hold. we try cure wounds and it works at first, but as the spell finishes, not only does the feeling return but it starts spreading up her arm with her pulse. weird little spots start appearing on the back of her hand too.

and then we had to end session because it was 7 pm!! so she's probably irradiated or something now :(

i dont have any art of her on hand but i will make a shitty little drawing in a moment so you can put a face to the suffering

would anyone like to hear about my dnd character.

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

BNHA

see the light of day by achievingelysium

no1allmightfan I got my U.A. acceptance letter yesterday and I haven’t stopped crying… Taking the first steps toward my dream. Plus ultra! #no1 talks 22 notes | Reply Reblog Like

Or, Izuku, social media, and the journey to becoming a hero.

DC

Lugubrious Alarmism by Briarwitched

Magic is always a pain. Superman might temporarily be a toddler, but the League's knows they've gotten off easy this time: everyone's in the proper dimension, there's no annoying entity trying to teach them a lesson, and the de-aging spell should wear off without any weird consequences in less than a fortnight. Babysitting duty gets ten times more adorable with the purchase of a Justice League plushie set. Now Clark can continue his heroic adventures with his friends: fighting crime, spreading justice, and... beheading Batman?

It's gotta be a fluke. Right? Right.

Accidents can happen twice in a row-- no, three, four?-- times. Though probably not by the twenty second. It's definitely intentional by the thirtieth time. Probably.

What the hell, Clark? We thought you were friends.

straight on 'til morning by mindshelter

Kon whistles at his first glimpse into Tim’s living room, grinning with teeth when Tim reflexively rolls his eyes. “Sweet digs, dude,” he singsongs. “Love what you’ve done to the place.”

“I said,” Tim hisses, even as he slides the balcony door open to let Kon inside, “what are you doing here—”

Kon shrugs, peeling his jacket off. If I left it up to you, buddy, he doesn’t say, I’d see you once in a blue moon. “Couldn’t sleep. Gotta say, the empty Gatorade bottles really give this place personality.”

“Like you’re one to talk. I’ve seen your room,” Tim snipes back. “And I actually need the electrolytes. What’s your excuse?”

or; on a whim, kon pays tim's gotham apartment a late night visit. and then he visits again. and again, and again.

The Clone Wars

we hold on together by notquiteaghost

The Republic hasn't had a standing army in over two thousand years. Even before the Reformation, there was no war on a grand enough scale to justify the expense. It feels like a bad joke, when the Chancellor decrees it, when the Senate allows it. The Jedi aren't a military. The Jedi have never been a military.

They give Obi-Wan a battalion. They give him a battlecruiser, a Marshall Commander, they knight his Padawan. He looks over all the clerical minutiae a military runs on and wishes they'd given him a secretary.

cody, obi-wan, and ghost company at the beginning of the war, learning to work together, trust each other, maybe even like each other.

Rescues, Attempted by glimmerglanger

A moment later, the figures leaned over the edge and, without preamble, tossed Obi-Wan in.

Cody jerked, unthinking, to put his body between Obi-Wan’s and the unforgiving stone. It was not that far a fall, but, unconscious, Obi-Wan could not protect his head or neck. Cody caught him as he plummeted, weight catching at his arms and shoulders, but not enough to inconvenience him.

OR, the one where Obi-Wan falls into the wrong hands, and Cody does his best to get him out alive.

J'adoube by hellowkatey

There are only two scenarios that make sense in this moment:

1. The Force has caused a divergence in the flow of time for reasons still unknown. or 2. Obi-Wan has a more active imagination than he thought, and the last twenty-eight years of his life have been one very long, very elaborate dream.

[or, the Force gets fed up with Obi-Wan not taking care of himself and takes matters into its own hands.]

Count My Little Scars I've Got Dozens Inside by nuclearturtle

Ripped from the streets of Melida/Daan by the Force, Obi-Wan finds himself in the middle of a firefight between strange droids and troopers. With no idea of where he is or what is going on but in desperate need for help, so he turns to the only familiar presence nearby, his Grandmaster Dooku.

Unfortunate that luck has never really been on his side.

To Fall, and To Be Alright by Pandora151

Obi-Wan falls, almost at random.

Anakin watches it happen from across the briefing room. He watches Obi-Wan trail off mid-sentence, eyebrows furrowing into a deep frown. He watches Obi-Wan look at Cody and Waxer, at Ahsoka, and then at Anakin. He watches Obi-Wan place a trembling hand on the table in front of him.

And then the moment breaks, and Obi-Wan falls.

Belief by CallToMuster (Note: I enjoyed a bunch of whump fics form this author, but this list would've gotten too long if I'd included them all. So definitely check them out)

“It’s me,” the man tells him for the fourth time. “It’s Anakin. I promise.”

Obi-Wan says nothing. He has heard this before, from others. They too claimed to be Anakin Skywalker and shared his face. This is the eighth such person, in fact. But they were just a product of Ventress’s twisted imagination. Whether this person is the same remains to be seen.

He must be cautious either way.

{Written for Whumptober 2020. Day 11: "Defiance | Struggling". Sequel to my Day 5 Whumptober fic Mine.}

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Not A Date

Summary: You’re Bruce’s cute little intern and he has a crush on you, but doesn’t want to admit it. Except Thor’s kind of his best friend and can tell. He just needs a little push.

Pairings: Bruce Banner x black!reader x Thor

Warnings: smut, mmf threesome, age gap, daddy kink, swearing

(A/N: decided to change it up a little to celebrate 500 followers 🥳. It’s a little long. Enjoy, like, and reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee​, @harrysthiccthighss​, @iam-laiya, @sweeterthanthis , @night-of-the-living-shred​, @mariahthelioness29, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle

Bruce would have never thought about being with someone that worked under him until you. He liked to think of himself as a man with integrity when he wasn’t the Hulk. Yet he found himself thinking about you in the worst ways.

It was worse because you were half his age. He never wanted to cross that line. Despite Tony trying to convince him to ask you out for drinks. He didn’t wanna freak you out or make you think he was a creep. You really had no business looking that sexy in a lab coat, though.

What was worse was that it seemed like he couldn’t get a break from you. You genuinely enjoyed his company. You were eager to learn and Banner was definitely eager to teach you.

The only problem? Thor had taken a liking to you. How the fuck was he supposed to compete with that.

Would you rather have Banner? A nerd that spends all day in the lab or Thor. A king from another planet whose people had been forced hereafter said planet had been destroyed. The choice seemed pretty obvious to him.

Not that Thor wasn’t great. After everything that’s happened Bruce and Thor were practically best friends. Thor gotten him through a really rough time and obviously Banner had been there to help the god save his people. Then after everything with Thanos. They’d bonded in a way neither of them had expected.

He doesn’t even know why he tortures himself thinking about it. It was bad enough that the King of New Asgard was making googly eyes at you. Or that you seemed to be reciprocating it.

You were doing it right now. Laughing about something he said while his friend trailed his different colored eyes up and down your body. He couldn’t even blame him.

“Banner, you want to come out with us for dinner?” Thor had asked as you’d started taking off your coat getting ready to leave the lab for the day.

Bruce sighed. Why did Thor have to torture him like that. “No, it’s okay.”

“Oh, come on, Dr. Banner,” your voice was so smooth and sultry. Like you were always about to whisper something dirty. “Come out with us. All work and no play make you a dull boy.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on your date,” he said as he finished packing up.

You tilted your head to the side with those confused puppy dog eyes. “Date? This isn’t a date. We’re just bored. And I wanna get drunk.”

“Yeah.” Thor nodded. “Just three friends having a few drinks and dinner.”

Banner looked between the two. Both of them with those sweet looks on their faces. Why the fuck did Thor have to be one of the nicest beings he’d ever met. It was hard to say no to him.

“Okay fine. Where are we going?” He asked as he finished packing up.

“It doesn’t matter as long as I get nachos!” You replied with a grin. “But I need to change first. I feel icky.”

Bruce had decided to do the same. He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to at least look nice for the first time you’d be seeing him out of work. Not that he was planning on acting out on any feelings. Again. He didn’t wanna freak you out.

“I know your secret.” Thor narrowed his eyes with a smirk on his face making Bruce almost smack onto him when he’d walked out of his room.

“Jesus, Thor!” He put his hand over his heart trying to not freak out completely.

He put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I do know your secret, though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You like Lady Y/N. Am I right?”

His jaw dropped, but he tried to sober up quickly. “Wha- what. Why, why would, what makes you think that?” He stuttered.

“I’m a fertility god.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I can tell these things.”

“Oh...” he trailed off his cheeks getting bright red.

Thor laughed. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. She’s beautiful.”

“She’s half my age,” he replied.

“So?” He frowned in confusion. Of course, Thor would have no concept of an age difference when he’d lived through centuries.

Bruce sighed. “So, it’ll look odd if I start dating my twenty-five-year-old intern, Thor.”

He shrugged. “Look I’m sure Stark has done much worse. Don’t worry about what people will think or you’ll never get your chance.”

—

You sipped from your margarita from your spot beside him. Why’d you have to be so close. Not that he was complaining. You’d started drinking the tequila before you’d even gotten the chance to get your food.

It was so different seeing you out of the lab and compound. You were dressed so simply in a white v neck tucked into your black jeans and a pair of black boots, but you looked so good. Your hair was up and done in your natural look. Like a cute pineapple.

“Wait, can either of you even get drunk?” You asked.

Thor had set down his beer and nodded. “I can, there’s nothing like Asgardian mead, though. What about you, Banner?”

“I don’t drink. Not sure how the big guy would react,” he answered.

She nodded. “That makes sense. Hope you guys don’t mind if I get drunk as fuck.”

“Feel free,” Thor replied. “We’ll protect you. Won’t we?” Thor kicked him lightly under the table.

“Yeah... yeah,” Bruce replied.

“Dr. Banner, loosen up. We’re here to have fun.” You nudged him.

“Yeah you’re right,” he replied a tiny smile appearing on his face as he tapped his fingers against the table. “I guess a beer wouldn’t hurt. If anything, we can just stay at Tony’s.”

“How many homes does this man have?” You asked wrinkling your nose. 

—

Thor spun around with you on his back as you guys walked towards the entrance of the complex Bruce had told you that Tony wouldn’t mind if the three of you crashed in for the night. Just because Stark Tower was gone didn’t mean the billionaire didn’t have other properties around New York.

Banner laughed as he walked behind the both of you. He’d stuck to a beer to be safe and had loosened up at least a tad. He’d enjoyed seeing you have fun more than anything. All those stories the three of you would share. Of course, nothing compared to the odd adventures Thor had over the centuries, but still entertaining nonetheless.

Once you’d made it in you pretty much skipped inside as you looked around the penthouse. “Wow is it weird that I’m surprised that he’s trusting us with this place?”

“What’s not to trust?” Banner asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, come on. This is the face of a troublemaker.” You made a kissy face at him.

He shook his head. “You look like you stay up watching Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

Your jaw dropped. “Hey! Bill Nye is a national treasure. I used to have a crush on him. I think I have a thing for nerds.” You shrugged as you walked over to the kitchen.

Thor wiggled his eyebrows at Banner before motioning at him with his head. Bruce in turn shook his head at his friend. “Just talk to her,” Thor whispered still a little too loudly.

“No,” he replied.

“Think Tony will get mad if I drink some of his wine?” You asked as you took a wine glass.

“Eh, Stark will be fine,” Thor replied. “Enjoy yourself.”

So, the three of you had settled down to watch a movie. You’d also maybe raided the pantry which led to you and Thor throwing M&Ms into each other’s mouths while Bruce munched on chips. “At least Tony let us stay in the place that has snacks.” You laughed.

“Or does he know?” Thor asked with a smirk leaning over to steal one of Bruce’s chips.

“We’re not breaking and entering, are we? Because you guys might be able to get out of it, but...”

“We’re fine,” he answered, waving you off. “This is like the party house.”

“Yeah and where he goes when he wants to snack away from Pepper,” Bruce said with a smirk on his face.

“Wow shady, Dr. Banner,” you gasped with a giggle.

He groaned. “How many times have I told you to call me Bruce.”

“What if I like it?” You teased. “Besides if I call you Bruce I’m gonna end up calling you Brucie.”

“How about you can call me whatever you want then.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he knew he was in for trouble. “Fine. What if I call you Daddy?”

For a minute, Bruce was sure his brain had short circuited. As soon as that word left your mouth, he could feel it happen. He closed his eyes for a minute. Almost like he was savoring it. He opened his mouth ready to say something witty or flirty or anything and, “Uhhhh...” It was like his voice had short circuited.

“Bruce, I’m kidding.” You laughed as you stood up, poking his shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

As his friend was trying to process what had just happened, Thor sat beside staring at him with a dopey grin on his face. “I told you,” he teased waving his hands excitedly.

“She was just joking,” he quickly retorted.

Thor shook his head still absolutely beaming. “No. She’s totally into you.”

Bruce groaned because even if you were, it was still so inappropriate. “Thor, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Who’s going to stop you?” Thor shrugged. “Now fuck the twenty-five-year-old or whatever that is.”

“Thor!” Banner said, feeling himself almost lose control. The Hulk must have had a crush on you, too, because he did not like the other man talking about you like that.

Thor quickly sobered up, not meaning to push him that far. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Is everything okay?” You asked peeking out of the bathroom. You looked a little panicked because in the few weeks you’d been helping him you’d never seen him go Hulk. This was the first time you’d even gotten a glimpse of him.

“Yeah. Just...” Thor looked at Bruce. “Give us a minute, Sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you replied softly biting your lip and close the door again. You’d already been over so many evacuations plan for just in case it happened, but you kind of cared about him so it would be kinda hard to see him like that.

“You okay?”

Bruce had his eyes closed and nodded. “No. I’m fine. I just... he wanted to come out and play a little.”

“You sure? We can go for a walk if you want. Clear your mind or whatever.”

He laughed. “No. I’m okay. Thanks. Y/N, you can come in!”

You peeked your head out again, looking between the two of them. “Everything cool?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Bruce answered feeling a little bad if he’d scared you. 

You came back over and took a seat on the couch that was across from them. Like you weren’t sure if you should get close. 

“Y/N, you can sit here,” he said, looking down at your former spot on the floor. 

You knew he hadn’t done it on purpose, but this kind of felt like a command and you found yourself complying. You weren’t even sure if it was from what’d just happened or from the daddy thing. “Okay,” you replied softly, making your way over.

You sat criss cross applesauce in between them. Thor peeked out from over the top of your head, staring him down. ‘Do it,” the god mouthed to him. You looked over and groaned. “Shoot forgot to get more wine,” you said standing up again.

“Banner, be a man,” Thor mumbled.

“I could say the same thing for you.” 

“I am a man. I would have kissed her already. Taken control. Like a man.”

“I don’t want to scare her off.”

“So, you do like her!” Another grin grew on his face. “I told you.”

Bruce groaned softly. “Why would I want to do that with you here anyway?”

“Just trust me on this,” he replied as you walked up with another glass. They probably should have stopped you because by now you were pretty tipsy.

“Ohh, trust you with what?” You asked, sitting back in your spot.

“Nothing,” Banner replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, but he won’t admit it.” Thor added with a dramatic sigh. 

You scrunched up your face in this cute pout as you got on your knees to wrap your arms around Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Brucie. I won’t let Thor bully you.”

Thor was so giddy. 

Your breasts were so close to his face. “I thought you were supposed to call me Daddy?” He asked, looking up at you.

You got back on your knees your arms still around him. “Bruce! You’re so bad.” He could have done it. Just moved a little bit closer. Instead he froze again. 

At that exact moment. While you were waiting right there. For him to just move closer to you. To connect your lips. His fucking phone rang. He groaned, resting his head against your shoulder. He dug it into his pockets to answer it. “Fucking Tony.”

You retracted your arms as he got up to take it. You leaned back resting your ass on your heels. “What, Tony?” He said a little harshly into the phone after he’d made it into the hallway.

“Where’d you put my wrench?” He asked and Bruce could hear the clattering of things being moved in the background. 

“Seriously? This is what you’re calling me about?” Bruce laughed sarcastically.

“I texted you, but you never got back to me. I knew you three were out on your date thing.”

“It’s not a date, we’re just hanging out,” Bruce replied clearing his throat. “Why would you call it a date?”

“Yeah, whatever. Keep lying to yourselves. Anyway, where’s my wrench?”

It took a minute, but he’d finally found it and he was hoping he could get back to where the two of you were a moment ago. 

It didn’t even make any sense. He was a fifty-year-old man, he shouldn’t have even been trying anything with you. Yet there he was ready to risk it all. For as Thor kept putting it, twenty-five-year-old pussy.

Of course, though, Bruce had the worst luck in the world. Between the Hulk and that whole thing. Making Ultron. Yeah, he’d fucked up a few times. Apparently walking away from you was one because there you were with his one of his best friends making out with you just like how he was supposed to.

Thor pulled away from your mouth to start kissing her neck. His hand went to one of her breasts. You looked up at him with this troublemaker eyes. “I told you to be a man, Bruce,” Thor said, in between nips on your skin. “So, I’m showing you how.”

He could feel his face getting hot. Like the big guy was threatening to come. He didn’t want you to see him like that, but as you stood up you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“It’s okay. I have enough holes for the both of you.”

His jaw dropped, but he couldn’t respond as you’d already smashed your lips into his. Your mouths worked together. His hands stayed at his side as you pushed him back until he could sit on the couch.

You climbed on his lap. Straddling him as his hands went to your ass like it was an instinct. He could pretty much hear the Hulk actually giving him kudos for doing it.

“See how much better that is,” Thor said sitting next to the two of you as he started kissing your neck.

Bruce thought for a minute. He should be telling Thor to go away, but the fertility god was just trying to help him out. Maybe he could play and not really touch.

“Brucie,” you moaned as he started to trail down your neck with his lips.

“Been teasing me all night. Haven’t you?” He said, into your ear.

You nodded with a chuckle as you started to roll your hips against him. He moaned into your neck as he cupped the bottom of your ass. You gasped, “Daddy.”

His dick rubbed into you in the most delicious way. Fuck he felt so damn good. “That’s such a good girl,” Thor said, coming to sit the beside of you.

“Thor!” Bruce pulled away.

Thor rolled his eyes. “Stop making this weird.”

You laughed grabbing the man who’s lap you were currently on top of. “It’s okay,” you said in such a cute way, your body perking up.

He sighed before looking at Thor who started to kiss your neck again. You didn’t even give him a chance to think as you smashed your lips against his. It didn’t take long for that to become his focus.

One of them started to pull your shirt up making the other follow. You helped them as you pulled it from your body, lifting it over your head. They kissed the tops of your breasts as Thor reached behind to undo your bra. “Look at these beautiful fucking tits,” Thor said licking your nipple.

Banner went back up to your lips, grabbing your ass with so much more force. Suddenly Bruce stood up with you wrapped around his waist. Ended up dropping you so your back was against the couch. You squealed then laughed as he started kissing you again.

There was still enough room between the two of you to where Thor could fondle you and kiss your neck. Honestly you felt like a fucking goddess with the two of them worshipping you like that.

You started to undo Banner’s shirt needing so much more. He helped to undo the rest while you reached forward to unfasten his belt. He was quick to help so you could start to work off your own pants.

It all happened so quickly. Before he knew it the both of you were naked and you were ready for him to fuck you. “Please,” you whined.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“For you to fuck me.”

Just like that he slammed into you, not being able to wait anymore. Fuck it had felt so good. He’d been wanting to do this ever since you started coming around. All that pent-up sexual frustration.

The noises coming out of your mouth were perfect. He couldn’t believe he was finally inside of you. “Yes,” you moaned.

Thor had taken his dick from his pants as he watched the two of you. Bruce never thought he’d find himself here. Fucking you with his best friend stroking himself as he watched. It was probably hotter than any porn he’d ever watched.

“Harder,” you whimpered.

“Fuck her like a man, Banner,” Thor groaned. “Like the slut she is.”

“Yes,” you mewled.

Banner groaned before pulling out of you. “Turn over.” He demanded.

You did as you were told, flipping onto your stomach so your ass was in the air. He wasted no time in slamming into you making you yelp. “That’s good, Banner. Fuck her just like that.” Thor reached out to stroke your cheek. “You look so beautiful getting your cunt stuffed.”

You moaned looking up at the god with big doe eyes. The way you were biting your lip. Banner honestly felt intoxicated just from being inside of you. As he worked his hips back and forth while you worked back against him, he honestly felt like he’d died and went to heaven. Even Hulk was giving him props.

“That’s it,” Thor groaned as you finally put your mouth on his dick. As much as he was trying to resist it before, it was kind of hot to see you getting your face fucked by Thor as he fucked your pussy. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned taking your mouth off of Thor. Bruce rubbed your clit making trying to coax it out.

You tightened around him. He honestly felt like you were trying to milk his dick. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Cum for me, Baby. Be a good girl and cum for Daddy.”

His words made you explode because you were not prepared for him to say anything like that. Banner pulled out of you helping you flip back over onto your back. He once again wasted no time to enter your overly sensitive pussy.

You scratched his back and he noted that it was probably his favorite feeling. The way you raked your nails up and down. “Oh, Daddy.”

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned.

Thor got on his feet so he could get access to your mouth once again. You turned your head, ready to serve. “Thor!” Banner groaned.

“It’s okay,” you moaned. “I like it. And, look at how pretty it is.”

“See, Banner. It’s okay.” Thor moaned feeling your tongue back on him.

Besides it felt kind of good to be this desired. As a woman of science there was something so hot about Bruce Banner fucking the shit out of you while your mouth was full of dick from an alien god king. This was like your dream come true.

Though hesitant at first, Bruce was finding himself enjoying seeing your mouth be used by Thor at the same time as he fucked you. The way you licked it like he was your favorite popsicle before taking into your mouth. He could tell you were having a little trouble me multitasking since you kept pulling away from Thor to moan.

“Fuck, Daddy!” You whined having to pull away from the other dick once again. Your head was swimming because it was almost too much, but you were determined to please.

“Ah, ah, ah, Pet, I didn’t tell you to stop,” Thor scolded grabbing the puff of hair on top of your head so he could push back into your mouth. Even at the strange angle you were sucking his dick like a perfect little cocksucker.

It honestly looked so good. Seeing you moan as you tried to keep up. Bruce’s mouth was practically watering as he looked down at your spread-out legs and the way you attempted to take his best friend down your throat. He wasn’t sure if you could because Thor was as big as he looked like he’d be. Then again seeing you choke on him sounded kind of hot.

Slobber drooled down your chin. You were making such a mess, but it looked like that had been exactly what you’d set out to do. Bruce had only seen blowjobs that sloppy in porn. “That’s such a good girl,” Thor groaned. “Look at that. Doesn’t she look so pretty like this.”

“So pretty,” Bruce grunted as he fucked you getting more on your body now. He buried his head into your neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You were slurping on Thor’s dick and fuck you were so wet. How was your pussy so damn wet. “Been teasing me all this time, huh. How long you been wanting this? Is that why you applied for the internship? So, you could take my dick?” He angled his hips in a way so that he could go deeper. His cock surrounded by your spongy walls.

As much as you’d fantasizes a long time about him, you never thought it’d be like this. Fuck were you pleasantly surprised.

“Answer me, Honey,” he said, looking back up at you.

Thor’s hand was still gripped in your hair and he forced you off of him long enough for you to speak. Except at that moment you finally reached your breaking point cumming around him. You felt yourself milk his dick and all he did was keep fucking you. “Yes!” You cried. “Fuck me, Daddy!” You begged.

“Such a good girl,” Thor cooed before shoving himself back inside your mouth.

You moaned around him. All that spittle on your face. Bruce wanted to kiss you so bad, but considering your mouth was a little preoccupied he hesitated. It did look good, though. He glanced up at Thor who was mostly watching you take him like a good girl.

He noticed Bruce’s eyes on him before looking down at him with this slight smirk, shrugging his shoulders. As a god and until recently a prince, he had no shortage of lovers. This meant from different beings to whomever. Men or women or anything else. So, with the way Bruce was looking at him, he wasn’t really shocked.

Bruce on the other hand had only been with a handful of women. As Thor’s thick cock was just right there in front of him with your lips sucking at it, he felt like he couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward to lick what you hadn’t been able to fit into your mouth.

Thor hissed at feeling your mouth and his tongue now added. “Fuck,” he said under his breath.

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and pulled out with a giggle. “Daddy!” You squealed. Bruce blushed, pulling way. You leaned into him to connect your lips with his. He stopped moving and instead held you there. “It’s okay. I’m having so much fun.”

“Me, too,” he said, his face still red.

“Banner, it’s okay,” Thor said, rubbing the other man’s salt and pepper curly hair. 

Bruce found it more comforting than he even expected before lifting away from you so he could lick it again, tasting the saltiness. You moaned underneath him connected your lips to his neck. “Don’t stop, Daddy,” you whispered in his ear before nibbling along his earlobe.

He ground himself, starting to move his hips again. This time fucking you with slower, deeper thrusts. This tingle that had already built up inside of you grew more intense. He was working your pussy so fucking good. Then seeing him do that you could feel a new orgasm building up inside of you.

“Help me, Baby,” Bruce said.

Thor smiled because he was happy to see the teamwork. Besides two mouths were definitely better than one. “That’s it.”

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum again,” your voice shook as you suddenly clung to him. This one was definitely going to be more intense. 

You squealed out your moans opening your mouth before biting down on your lip only for your jaw to drop again. You lip quivered into a pout while your brows tensed up. He couldn’t help it has he mesmerized the little details. Noticing how your eyes got so desperate looking. And it was for him. For what he was doing to you. Of course, you’d clearly enjoyed what Thor had done to your mouth, but he was the one fucking you into two orgasms one right after the other.

“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for Daddy,” he grunted because he could feel himself ready to also cum inside that pretty pussy. “Want Daddy to cum all in this pussy?”

You nodded, but you were so sensitive at this point because your orgasm was intense. Bruce quickly followed behind unloading into you. Tremors ran through your body as your eyes closed.

When Bruce looked down to see he immediately got off of you. “Shit, Y/N,” he said, he rubbed your cheek. “Hey, hey,” he talked to you ever so softly.

Thor got down next to you. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You wrapped your arms around him and he hugged you back tightly, kissing your temple. Bruce rubbed got down beside him, so he could rub your back. “I’m sorry. It was just a lot.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bruce said. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” You laid back down as Thor kissed your forehead.

“Why don’t we go lay down?” Thor suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

Thor carried you to one of the many bedrooms. Your legs wrapped around his waist; chin perched on his shoulder. Bruce trailed behind watching the glazed look in your eyes.

As Thor laid you down, he made sure the blankets were pulled over you before kissing the top of your head again. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you answered contently.

“Need anything?” Bruce asked. “Water? Pretty sure we’ve been through most of the snacks.”

“Can you lay down with me?” You asked looking between them with big eyes and a pout. Thor grinned before getting in beside you, Bruce quickly doing the same. You got snuggly between them. Thor against your backside and Bruce in front of you so you could wrap your arms around them.

You were enjoying the closeness of them. They would kiss you softly wherever they could reach and traced their fingertips on your skin. All the affection was making you feel like you’d settled into his haze.

Thor tickled your side and you giggled trying to get closer to Banner. “Daddy, tell him to stop.”

Bruce chuckled and kissed your nose. “Is Thor teasing you, Baby?”

“I’m the tease?” Thor gasped. “I’m the one who didn’t even get to cum and somehow I’m the tease?”

You laughed. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be sorry,” he said, as he brought his hands further down over your butt, squeezing your flesh.

The jealousy Banner would have felt earlier was gone. Instead replaced with curiosity over what he could possibly do to her. The anticipation was making him hard all over again.

“Daddy!” You gasped; eyes wide as you looked into Bruce’s. “He’s touching me!” It sounded like you were trying to tattle and Bruce couldn’t help it as he laughed.

“Oh yeah? What’s he doing?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

Thor had lifted your leg up so he could stuff his large fingers into your cunt from behind. “His fingers are in my pussy,” you replied with a moan.

“Does it feel good?”

“It feels really good,” you whimpered.

Bruce chuckled as he pulled you in so he could kiss your lips again. Thor kissed your shoulder as you started to leak all over his fingers. “That’s such a good girl. Why don’t you ask Daddy if I can fuck this pussy,” he whispered in your ear, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, Daddy, can I?” You asked.

“That’s not how you ask politely, Sweetheart,” Bruce scoffed.

You swallowed down a moan because fuck Thor was really working you over good. “Daddy, can Thor please fuck me?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. He felt like he was drunk off of you. For once even Hulk was at peace.

Thor grabbed you making you face him as he kissed you greedily. You climbed on top of him straddling his waist. He grabbed your hips to lift you up and then eased you back down onto his dick.

“Oh.” Was all you could say. Your face felt hot all of a sudden. It felt like you were almost too full from him.

Bruce smiled at the dazed look on your face. You looked so beautiful. “How does it feel?”

“He’s so big,” you whimpered.

“You wanted a God’s dick baby,” Thor said beginning to move you up and down his length. “You have to take it.”

“Is it too much?” Bruce asked taking his hardening member into his hand because watching the two of you was so perfect.

“I can take it,” you whimpered through gritted teeth because you weren’t entirely sure you were telling the truth.

“That’s such a good girl,” Thor groaned. Fuck your cunt was tight. If you weren’t having such a hard time now, he would have been slamming in and out of you. Your pussy felt so damn good.

Bruce’s watched intently as the other man fucked into you. He wasn’t sure what had come over him tonight, but he doesn’t think there’s any coming back from this. “Fuck, Thor,” he groaned, “your dick is too big for her.”

“Is it too big for you, Sweetheart?” Thor asked. “Too much?”

“I promise I can take it,” you cried because you felt like you were gonna be split in two.

“You better fucking take it,” Bruce said.

Thor finally started to pick up the pace. You threw your head back, biting your lips, eyes squeezed shut with your eyebrows furrowed.

You looked so gorgeous like this and even though you’d just made Bruce cum in that pretty pussy he wanted to do it again. Thor had this smirk on his face because there was something so funny about this little human woman struggling to take him.

Thor looked at Bruce as he’d glanced over him and Bruce wasn’t sure what came over him as he pressed his own kiss to Thor’s lips. Thor always needing to dominate kissed the other man deeply tongues fighting against each other.

You finally opened your eyes noticing the change in Thor’s movements as he tried to keep up with both at the same time. You started to move your hips faster because fuck they looked hot together and even though it felt like Thor was going to break you, you needed it.

“Fu- fuck!” You yelped as your orgasm came through. Thor smacked your ass and laughed against Bruce.

“See I told you her twenty-five-year-old pussy would feel good,” Thor couldn’t help himself from saying.

“Thor!” Bruce groaned.

You stopped moving, a laugh wrecking up through your body. “What?”

Your night pretty much went the same way. Getting used by both men until you were completely tapped out. You fell asleep nestled between them as they whispered sweet nothings to you and surprisingly each other.

Bruce couldn’t believe the smile that was on his face. Whatever aftermath happens after this he could deal with it. As long as you and Thor were there. Well mostly you since Thor would have to go back to New Asgard at some point. 

—

“I don’t even know how she found out!” Tony complained to Happy for what was probably the millionth time.

The other man shrugged. “Maybe the kid let it slip?” He suggested as they finally came through the door. The both of them looked at each other as they saw the bowls of snacks around the floor and the only have drunken glass of wine.

And all the clothes.

“Who the fuck...” Tony gasped.

“I’ll do a sweep of the place,” Happy said already getting into protective mode.

Of course, Tony not being able to be patient wanted to see who the hell it was that had clearly had sex on his damn couch and didn’t even clean any of the evidence.

His jaw dropped seeing you in bed all safe and sound with Bruce. All of the irritation he felt was suddenly replaced with shock, but also relief because at least it was just Bruce. Besides he needed to get laid.

Thor came out of the bathroom at that moment, making Tony’s eyes widen as soon as he saw the god in all his naked glory. “Hi, Stark.” Thor greeted him with a grin as he went back over to the bed.

“I fucking called it!” Tony shouted, jolting the two of you awake.

You let out a scream before throwing a pillow to hit him in the face. Happy had covered his eyes because this was too much for him. “We’ll just wait outside,” he said, grabbing Tony’s shirt to yank him away.

“I knew it was a date!” He giddily yelled.

“Well, at least we don’t have to tell everyone because Tony is probably having Friday text everyone.” Thor shrugged, before scooping the both of you into his arms. Fuck, Tony. He was going back to sleep with his two small humans and then take them out for breakfast.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

Each day, each week, your hope dwindles. Barrett doesn’t change. He’s not going to change. You know for sure as you watch him storm out. 

That’s why you didn’t talk to him sooner. It always ends like this. He gets defensive, you get emotional, and it all erupts. If he would just listen! 

You sigh and hold your chin in your hand. You look around at your small apartment. Even when you’ve just cleaned, it feels cluttered. You hate this place. You feel trapped. Or maybe that’s your relationship. Probably, both. 

You don’t think it was that bad to ask for a bit of understanding. All you want is for him to communicate. Instead, he sits on all his gripes until the bubble over in another rant about the squeaky bathroom faucet or the way you fold his shirts. It’s always on you. You’re the one who has to make him happy. Never the other way around. 

This time, it wasn’t the dishes or the mopping or the recycling. Nope. You’re not attentive enough. You’re depriving him. You’re punishing him by not having sex with him after working overtime four nights out of five. It can’t be that you’re tired or hurt. No, it’s an attack on him. 

That’s where it all fell apart.

You tried. Once you got past the frustration and tried to just let the waters calm. When you started talking to him again and fell back into your routine. You were both too busy to keep the fight going. And a few nights, you let him initiate but something would keep you from going all the way. 

Something... 

You saw Wendy last week. She didn’t mention anything about the night you went out. Didn’t mention a guy. She said she had fun and you should do it again. You told her you can’t afford it. Besides, you’re too tired. She called you boring. She’s not wrong. 

You get up and distract yourself. Well, it’s not really for you, is it? You’ll clean everything from corner to corner so he has nothing to complain about. You don’t need him to nitpick another reason to hound you. 

So much for time off. Once more you’re spending it in misery. You finish vacuuming then spray the couch with some freshener. Feeling accomplished but not less addled, you go to the bedroom and pull out some clothes for tomorrow. You’ll go to bed early and get a head start. If you’re lucky, you’ll be asleep before he drags his sorry ass home. 

You yawn as you stare at the time. It’s barely five o’clock and you could keel over. These days, you’re beat to the bone. You can’t remember the last time when you didn’t feel like a sack of dirt. You put your work clothes on the dresser then grab a fresh towel for the shower. 

You wash up, soothed by the warm water, and emerge in a hazy cloud. You go through the motions of applying the discount bin toner and moisturizer. You feel a little fresher. 

You tuck into bed and scroll on your phone for a while. Six-thirty. You black the screen and close your eyes. It takes as much to put you to sleep. 

You dream about flashing lights and the clink of glass. You’re swaying to a drone of music, spinning and swirling. The place is painted in streaks of colours as you keep moving. And when you manage to stop, the room turns on an axis, keeping you dizzy. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and pull you back into a thick body. You can’t escape. You look down and know those aren’t your husband’s hands. Where are you? Who is holding onto you? 

You try to turn around but it’s impossible. You’re stuck in the strange embrace as the neon lights melt and the air pulses with shadows. You push on the arms around you and wriggle desperately.

“Let me go,” you beg, “let me go.” 

Your words rise to a shriek and you wake up with a start. There’s a figure in the room watching you, as if waiting for you to wake up. You almost scream for real as Barrett stares at you. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay before he turns away. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he grumbles. 

You don’t argue as you catch your breath and lower yourself back to the pillows. You can smell the tinge of beer left behind. He’s been drinking. You can’t begrudge him that, not really. Last time it got bad, you did the same thing. At least he came home. 

You cringe. No. Stop. Nothing happened. No one can prove it happened. Not even you. So, it didn’t. 

Your stomach mulches and you turn onto your side. The nausea roils in your stomach. You must be hungry. You didn’t eat. Yet the thought of doing so makes you even sicker. You burp and swallow down the mouthful of acid that sears your throat. 

Stress. It’s stress. And it’s not going to get any better. Not with everything you’re running away from. 

[bukojuiice]

farewell, my dark knight. — diluc ragnvindr

ೃ ft. diluc x gender neutral! reader

ೃ 6k words

ೃ tags and warnings: angst. a sweet and lovestruck diluc. reminiscing memories with him. he writes you letters and talks to you about his day. he’s very soft and he’s very much in love with you.

ೃ requested by anon:  “hi! could i request a diluc x reader, in which diluc dies from a mission, and as reader is cleaning out his room, they find letters neatly packed into drawers, and with closer inspection, they are letters diluc wrote to reader every day, so when he isn’t around anymore, reader can read them and not forget about him? sorry i’m a sucker for angst and your writing omg” (thank you for this request! and for making me cry while writing it! <3 i put a lot of work into this, so i hope everyone enjoys!)

ೃ genshin impact masterlist

ೃ if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡ (please like and most esp. reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot!)

They say all your senses and your feelings are heightened when you are broken and mourning.

You hear things more clearly like the tenderness of his voice because it’s better than listening to the drum of your heart.

You feel the sun, the air, and his gentle touch on your skin because you are trying to feel things instead of shutting down. 

You smell his perfume and the scent of the pancakes he used to make- everywhere. 

You still feel his fingers as though they are knotted through yours and it makes you cry.

It hurts.

It pains you. 

This is the most tragic day of your life.

“Sir Diluc has.. passed away.” Jean announces, reaching for your hands and squeezing them in support. She pulls you inside a spare and lonely room in the Ragnvindr manor. Lisa is at her side, for extra emotional support, handing you a spare handkerchief as they break the news to you. 

Your heart sank. 

You were not the first to know. But, even if you were… there was no possible way.

 You were a traveling adventurer in search of something that will quell your curiosities; disappearing for days or weeks on end. There were times when Diluc would come with you on your travels and the two of you would just go wherever your heart desires. Staying in Qingce Village and mingling with the elderly townsfolk, Visiting the Adeptus abode, strolling around Springvale or vacationing in the summer islands… there was nothing that could stop the two of you together. 

As two of the heroes of Mondstadt from the Stormterror incident and his status as the esteemed owner of the Dawn Winery, you were famed and loved by all. Though as Diluc was not one for friendliness or casual interactions with others, It was all because of you that he had befriended some particular members of the Adventurer’s guild and the Knights of Favonius. You had even asked them if they could visit the Dark Knight hero at the winery from time to time. 

Well, aside from the regular visits of Venti and Kaeya to satisfy their quench for wine, Jean accompanied by Amber and Lisa to ask for advice, uncommon visitors such as Klee and Albedo had even come by to accompany him now and show him their wonderful new experiments and discoveries….

 You had given him a reason to have hope in the people of Mondstadt once again. His previous faction with the Favonius knights may have been imperfect, but Jean had proved to be amazing enough to rectify all these past mistakes that had eased Diluc’s resentment to the knights.

You continue to count back to all the things that he has done for you. As someone who’s had no home and who’s been traveling all their life, Diluc became your home. He had fallen for you and your wondrous soul. He was your living reminder that you can find home in a person. Someone who you can rely on, someone you will come back to after a long tiring day, someone who will love you for who you are and who will kiss your flaws away.  

And now, he’s gone. Just like that.

You have been gone for three months prior to all of this as you were on a secret commission to fight off a huge group of treasure hoarders in Natlan. Although you were able to travel back to Fontaine shortly after, you had to wait for further instruction from the guild before you could come back to Mondstadt. At the time, the only thoughts to occupy your mind was Diluc who had been waiting for your return and your longing and desire to run into his arms and for him to kiss your tiredness away. 

However, it took two agonizing days before Jean’s letter had arrived. All you could do was weep and worry endlessly at the inside of a quaint inn at the heart of the bustling and picturesque region that was Fontaine. Inside her letter were updated reports of Diluc’s disappearance; he had been missing for three days without telling the maids or any of the inhabitants of the mansion and the winery of his departure. He left without a trace…

As soon as the sun had risen that same day, you quickly left the region and made your way back to Mondstadt. With no knowledge or premonition that at the same day…

Diluc would be found.

On the road to Mondstadt, the staff at the Winery had been going on their merry day to deliver the wine to the city, when they came across a body. Battered and bruised. Upon closer inspection, it was their dearest master; the current head of the Ragvindr family. Further suspicion arose when a hoard of Fatui members had been defeated; lying beside the riverbend not too far from the manor. The Knights of Favonius had quickly deduced that Diluc had crawled all the way back to the outskirts of the Manor but had unfortunately succumbed to his injuries. 

From that day on, the sun had never shined again. 

Your stomach was in knots. You had a feeling that something had happened and yet, you didn’t expect for it to be something like this. You didn’t expect to hear about the state that he was in when he was found.

He’s strong. He’s the Dark Knight Hero, One of the protectors of Mondstadt; Hell, he’s one of the most powerful vision users of the region.

Yet… how did this happen?

A knock on the door had brought you out of your trance. With a simple “Come in.” said by Jean, the guest in question was revealed to be Kaeya who peered out from the door. A forlorn expression plastered upon his face. His head turns and your eyes meet his, “(Y/N)... how are you doing?” His voice gentle and melancholic. 

“N-never been better.” You remark in between sobs. “I-I need time to process this.” Wiping your tears with the handkerchief, you stand up, about to take your leave. “I-I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“According to the Favonius accords, Sir Diluc must be buried tom-”

“To hell with the Favonius accords!” You snap, still trying to fight back the tears as the three knights stare at you in shock and in empathy. “M-master Jean… p-please. Just one more day. Before I have to say goodbye to him forever… Let me have one day to reminisce about him.”

The Acting Grandmaster hesitates, as if collecting her thoughts first before she speaks. “Very well. We will be arranging the burial and other matters in the near future. For now, please get all the rest and recuperation you need. Thank you for your time, honorary knight. We’ll see you in a few days.” Jean holds your hand and gives it another reassuring squeeze as she and Lisa watch your walking figure make your way out of the room. 

Kaeya, who was still in front of the entryway, moves to the side to give you some space to make your leave. “Before the maids fully clean up his room, why don’t you tune in there for the night? I’m sure Diluc would love that.” 

“He would.” You smile half-heartedly, the indigo-haired man giving you a reassuring pat on the arm. “T-thanks Kaeya. I will.” 

“I’ll be staying in the manor for the rest of Diluc’s memorial if you want t-to… talk about him. See you around.” You nod at him before shuffling down the stairs to enter the manor wing that led to Diluc’s room.

Oh, how you wish you were as calm as Jean and as emotionally mature as Kaeya right now. 

How are they able to hold up so well? How are they able to take this all in and not be on the verge of breakdown like you are? They’ve known Diluc since childhood. Hell, Kaeya was his adopted brother. His brother in arms. How are they able to accept his death just like that? 

Are you just… not as strong as them?

You take a left turn around the manor wing that leads to Diluc’s room to be surprised by Adelinde who greets you in front of Diluc’s door, a torn and bloodied folded paper in her hands. “Honorary knight, we have a letter addressed to you. The staff at the winery found it tucked inside Master Diluc’s pocket. You might want to read it.” She gingerly hands you the folded piece, patting your hand gently once she places it in your palm.

“Thank you, Adelinde.” 

You turn your attention to unlocking the door, fishing for the spare key that he had given you and inserting it into the knob, you hear the head maid speak behind your back. 

“Whilst you were away, there was never a day that Master Diluc had not spoken about you with such love and praise. I hope you know in your heart how much he loves and cherishes you. As there was never another person in his life who he had loved the most after Sir Crepus’ passing.” She recounts, her voice is slow and meek. “Thank you for loving Master Diluc and for showing him what it truly means to be a part of a family again. The entire staff sends our deepest condolences and we will be here for you and Sir Kaeya whenever you need us.” From the side of your eye, you see Adelinde bowing deeply before she subsequently takes her leave and disappears into the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, the door clicks and you enter your beloved’s abode. 

Not one thing has been touched. It still looks and remains the same.

His coat is still hanged on his wardrobe door, his usual button up black dress shirts folded neatly on one of the drawers, books that he’s read to you time and time again are shelved properly, a hearth in front of the bed that reminded you of your endless cuddles in front of the fireplace, his gloves neatly placed on his bedside table, and pictures of the two of you together in the Golden Apple Archipelago taken with the Kamera are hung on clips and strings on his desk.

It was like he never left. 

Like his physical being had just gone off on a long adventure.

Yet, it feels so empty. 

Because his soul and his presence is no longer here with you.

And it hurts. Everything hurts.

You take a seat on his bed. The mattress slightly creaks as you reach for an unusual piece of paper sticking out of his bedside drawer. Opening the cabinet slowly, your suspicion and curiosity heightens when what is revealed to be inside was a wooden box. Engraved were Diluc’s initials and letters that spelled out “Do not touch” 

Curiosity overwhelming you, you gingerly open the wooden box to be surprised with folded letters written by Diluc that were all addressed to you. Along with the date and time it was made. 

He wrote letters every single day. Hoping that once you came home, you could finally read them. Trying your best not to burst into tears, you carefully look through all of them and notice that they were all written during your absence. During those three agonizing months that you were gone. 

Although his daily letters were short and simply written, he never fails to write to you an encompassing message at the end of the week. In each weekly letter, he entailed many things: Like writing to you about his day, how much he misses you, how much time has passed, and discussing particular things he found during his nightly patrols or interesting things about his day. He wrote letters to you as if you were right there with him. His words etched with simplicity yet full of love. He wrote these letters to be whisked away from a minute of his otherwise mundane life. And despite how uneventful they may be, he still shares them with you because he knows you will listen. He knows you will take your time to read everything. As even though the two of you may be thousands of miles apart, your hearts will still beat as one.

You finally find the one that he had written for you the day after your departure, and begin to read it’s contents. Preparing yourself for an overflow of emotions that you were not ready for. 

JANUARY 3RD, 45 BP

As much as I hate to see you go, I realized that life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us from the ones we love. For the recent years that have passed, I have seen staff at the winery and maids in the manor come and go. And yet, I still haven’t gotten used to seeing you go off on your adventures. There are times I wish I could just be free of all of these responsibilities and come along with you on your escapades. But alas, I will presume that life is not for me. Always know that no matter where my life takes me or yours takes you, I will love you whether there are 1000 miles between us or none at all.

I miss you already, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 10TH, 45 BP

A week has come to pass since you left and I’ve been trying my best to keep myself busy. Kaeya has come to visit me and so has Venti, but they have done absolutely nothing to alleviate my boredom. In fact, they’ve all been a pain in the arse. When I tossed them into two of the guest rooms for passing out drunk, I was suddenly reminded of the times that you would wait for me at the Angel’s Share and help me drag Rosaria back to the cathedral, Kaeya back to his residence, and Venti back to the tree in Windrise. Then, we would take a night stroll around the city as the dwindling lights of the shops and houses being the only things illuminating our way. I cannot wait to do all of this with you again. It feels like the universe closes in around us whenever we’re together. But… the moment is so fleeting and you are gone again. The universe is awfully large and I am awfully small,  unable to hold the world with my hands. I just wish you were here to make me feel as if the universe is close enough to reach once more. 

Good night, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 17TH, 45 BP

It is 9 o’ clock in the evening as I write this. Today, Bennett had visited and asked if I could train him to control his vision. I said yes as I had nothing much better to do. Fischl and Razor were there to accompany him as well. To be quite honest, they’re quite a convivial trio. It’s nice to see them remain free-spirited despite everything that has happened recently. I could not bear to remain as cheerful as they are amidst the constant abyss order and Fatui attacks. After our training, Razor had come up to me and told me that you and I are lupical. I didn’t quite understand at first, but with Fischl’s long and heavy explanation, I had come to understand what it meant: Family.

Perhaps… we can be a family? Have a family of our own?

Oh… wait. I know, it’s too soon. So, please disregard my wishful thinking for now. I’d like to apologize if that may have come out the wrong way.

Thank you for reading today’s letter, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 24TH, 45 BP

I finished a book I borrowed from the Favonius library today. Lisa said you've been eyeing the tome for a long time. However, since Ella Musk was borrowing it at the time and you had to leave shortly for your trip to Natlan, you never got the chance to. I'd like to apologize for having been able to read it in advance. Perhaps, I can read it to you once you get home? Maybe in front of the fireplace, blankets hugging us for warmth, and cups of hot chocolate in our hands? Anyhow, there was something I found interesting about it.

There are Sumeru philosophers who claim that the past, present, and future all exist at the same time. That there are parallel universes. It had me thinking, in another universe... Would we still be together? Will fate bring us together? Could there be more for us outside of this blue sky we share?

I'm sorry for making you worry. It's probably my insomnia kicking in. These past twenty days have been quite lonely without you.

Goodnight, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

JANUARY 31ST, 45 BP

I can’t believe that January has finally come to pass. It feels like forever since you left. I know, I know, I sound like I’m sulking. But… the thoughts I had from finishing the book last week still have not left my mind. If only I could close my eyes and find myself in the place wherever you are right now. Kind of like…. What were those called? Waypoints? Yes! Those. Mayhaps, I should pay Sucrose or Albedo a visit and ask if they could make a portable wayfinder for me or a potion that can teleport me anywhere? Well, at least I have something interesting to do tomorrow. 

See you soon, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

FEBRUARY 7TH, 45 BP

The day you left, I went through all my old journals, frantically looking for the first mention of you. Searching for details I can no longer recall and any morsel of information that may have been lost. It honestly made me laugh at how different I used to think of you back then. You were always a kindred soul and yet, there was an eccentric air around you that I just couldn't quite understand. It was the good kind, of course. I have never thought ill of you since the beginning. Ever since the tragedy that befell my father, I would push everyone away from me. I told myself that if you didn't form close bonds with others, then you wouldn't get attached to them. They would be easier to let go and you could. But... you were the first who went out of your way for me. The first time you entered Angel's Share and challenged me to a game of chess solely because someone from the Adventurers' guild told you so? I knew there was something about you. Something wonderful. I wish to show you these old journals soon. Mayhaps you can get a clearer picture of my thoughts and impressions of others once you read them. 

For now, all I can do is count the days until you are home once more.

 Goodnight my love, may the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 14, 45 BP

People should fall in love more. Fall in love with how the dandelions blow with the wind, Fall in love with the safe and comforting feeling of being in the middle of a bustling city that is Mondstadt, Fall in love with the stars and the night that shines before us and Fall in love with the idea of being in love or loving someone. Having recently realized these things, I had the most spontaneous idea of wanting to get married in the Winery with you. In the future, of course. I know it’s not much. But I know you’re not the type to want anything fancy, so it’s the perfect area for the most beautiful moment of our lives to take place.

I had gotten a little too into the idea of planning our wedding and I aimlessly listed down those who will be attending. All our closest friends and family. Can you imagine Little Klee as the flower girl? Kaeya as the best man? Jean and Lisa as the maids of honor? Maybe we can even ask Eula to choreograph our wedding dance for us? Most importantly, have the wonderful honor of having the Lord Barbatos to officiate our marriage?

Once again, I hope you can pardon me and my blissful escapism. I can’t wait for the day to arrive where we can plan all of this and make it a perfect wedding.

As always, thank you for reading my constant rambles and inner thoughts, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 21ST, 45 BP

If you were taken away from me, this place called our world, I would cry.

Sighing, wringing my hands, and wondering why.

How can the archons and those up in Celestia dare to take the most precious soul in the universe from me?

But... what if I would be the one who would be taken away from you? Will you feel the same way too?

FEBRUARY 28TH, 45 BP

Please excuse me for everything I said in my message last week. I may have sounded somewhat selfish and I'd like to apologize for making you overthink when you already have so much on your plate. I cannot wait to mail out these letters to you, but the postal office in Monstadt doesn't deliver letters to Natlan, unfortunately. I guess I have to wait until you reach Fontaine. Putting those aside for a moment, something happened today that I wanted to share with you. Whilst I was feeding Noctua, I had realized something. What about the little birds who dream of flight? Those who gaze into the starry night and think that one day... they might be a part of that same sky? To be free, to explore, and to have the feeling of air and light coursing through their wings. Is... this the same feeling you felt before? Is this why you go on adventures?

I'd love to talk to you more about this once you get home. For now, all I can do is write you a letter and bid you goodnight. 

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 7TH, 45 BP

Whenever I write a letter addressed to you, I feel a raw ache in my bones when the ink seeps into the paper— for I feel the bittersweet sorrow of wanting you to be right by my side, to have my fingers intertwined with yours, and to be exhumed by you because you have always seen past all my flaws and imperfections. I miss you. So much. At this point, it feels as if I have no right to. Tell me... is it right to feel this way? Am I being selfish for wanting the days to come by? For April to be in our midst? Can I blame the archons for wanting to have you in my arms again? There’s something happening next week, and to be honest, I’m quite excited for it. See you soon, my love.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 14TH, 45 BP

Today is the first day of the Windblume Festival. How I terribly wish you were in Mondstadt right now. This would have been your first year and I know you would love the events. I remember when Father brought Kaeya and I to the festival for the very first time, and oh how my eyes were filled with wonderment and unshaken innocence. He gifted us a harp that day, and I still play it when I have time. It’s a wonderful keepsake with a lovely name, (The Windblume Ode) and it never fails to remind me of my father. I wonder if… Kaeya still kept his? Nostalgia aside, Venti caught up to me on the way home and told me I should see what he has in store for the second week of the festival. I know that the bard has a lot up his sleeve, but this particular encounter with him filled me with curiosity. What could it be? What does he have in store for me?

Before I end this, I bought you a bouquet of Dandelions and Cecilias today. They have a different color than the usual wreaths and posies, as these ones only bloom during Windblume. I placed them inside the vase on your desk just a few minutes ago. I do not necessarily have green thumbs, so please do not blame me if anything bad happens. I made sure that they’re still in season once you get home and I can’t wait for you to see them.

Goodnight my love, May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

MARCH 21ST, 45 BP

Once you get home, please do assist on reprimanding the bard for me. Can you believe he had tricked me into attending his love poem-making classes? Since a lot of the cityfolk have been dying to take writing classes under him and were willing to pay if he did, he had decided to take this opportunity to receive mora and “get rich.” Venti brags to the cityfolk that he will use their compensation for good reasons… but we all know he’ll just spend it wasting away at Angel’s Share. I won't let him pass me when it’s my hour to manage the tavern, of course. But… maybe one drink as a prize for all his hard work wouldn’t be too bad? After all, I did learn a lot of things from him. He was also quite smart for incorporating such an activity with Windblume. As during the festivities,  the people of Mondstadt offer Windblumes to Barbatos and to those they love and adore. 

I spent all day being mentored and trained into creating “the most romantic poem written in Teyvat” I know Venti is bluffing and was just trying to soften me so I wouldn’t get mad at him, yet he was actually genuinely impressed with my poetic skills. I didn’t want anyone else to read it before you did, but he snatched the paper from my hands as soon as I finished so that he may critique it. I… didn’t expect him to shed a tear. 

Here is the poem I wrote for you, my love. I hope you’ll like it.

“I wish one day, I'd be able to lay you down on a bed of roses with

the stars watching over us.

I wish one day we will be able to see the world together, to touch the stars and become planets.

After all, darling, stars, like life, is what you make of it. 

 I wish you knew how much I've loved you for all these years, so quietly, so loudly.

One day these roses will never compare to the redness in your cheeks, the softness of your heart.

 One day you will see kingdoms rise and the sun dance on your eyelids.

 And one day the moon will hang from your fingertips, waiting for you to refract your light and hope onto others.

You are an enigmatic being. A beautiful soul. Sometimes I think that you’re not from this universe.

 You have enraptured my soul; my whole being. You taught me how to love. 

Everything about you is out of this world and I am merely a human amazed by your interstellar presence as if you are written in the stars.”

 MARCH 28TH, 45 BP

I think I’ve gotten the hang of writing poems. I’m quite confident in my lyricism and in my writing now. So, here’s an excerpt of another poem I’m writing for you. 

 “I will love you through all the days and nights we are apart.

I will love you through every day and as the darkness turns to light. 

It is four o’ clock in the afternoon and this is the hardest part.

But this is the way I love you, even if most days we are apart.” 

 That’s all for now. I’m afraid you’ll only see the final draft once you get back. I hope you’re having a wonderful time at Natlan. Take care always, my love.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

 APRIL 4TH, 45 BP

I’ve been pondering about something again today. And It’s all because of Kaeya and Jean. They came over and we reminisced all day long about our childhood memories with tea and crumpets to accompany us. It was a nice feeling. To be able to look back on your childhood with such wistfulness. With such warmth. And with that, I realized something soon after: We’re young, but not that young. Some of the folk in Springvale are sixty-five and still feel young. Even Lord Barbatos feels young. Just because we have years ahead of us doesn’t mean our love isn’t going to last a lifetime. But… that’s the thing. We don’t have an entire lifetime to show love and affection towards each other and to others. Which is why we have to make the most of it. Live in the moment. Make the most of every minute that your heart is beating. Love endlessly. Be kind to others. That’s… what you always told me right? Even if we don’t have the rest of our lives to be with each other, I will still love you anyway. Every day, deeply, wholeheartedly, even if we are young and even if we are old. My love for you will be gentle, but fierce and bold.

That is all for now, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

April 11TH, 45 BP

The words are melting in my mouth like snow, and I feel like I'm running on empty, but there are only 5 days until you come home. I have dreamt every night of the morning we are together again. You will be drinking dandelion wine and I will be talking about how the orchard will finally bloom. Then in the next few months, we can do everything we dreamed about. We can go around the winery, have picnics amongst the stars, walk around Mondstadt and go on adventures once more. Soon, you will be home, and I will watch the leaves and patiently wait for time to pass by  until we are together again. 

 But.. since I cannot wait no more, I plan to travel all the way to Fontaine to see you. I will not be telling any of the maids or the staff where I’ll be going. They would worry if I left again. This is all going to be a surprise and this letter will proof of that. I want to be beside you once more and I cannot bear to wait for five more days. I will be leaving at Dawn tomorrow! I’ll treat this as a little vacation. I rightfully deserve it as a treat for my birthday, hoping I can spend it together with you. Maybe… we can take a quick detour and go on a little adventuring? Just the two of us. I know you’ll be weary from your trip, but we can continue to stay at Fontaine but we can go once you’ve fully recovered.

 I cannot wait to feel your warmth and your love in person again. See you soon, my beloved.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

That was it. That was the last letter stored in the box. 

 You stare into nothingness, unable to find the words to say. 

 Tears began to form in your eyes, your vision blurring and your hands quivering at the thought of him. All these letters he’s written to you all throughout these months and the fact that he was planning to surprise you by meeting with you at Fontaine? It hurts you so much thinking of all the things that could’ve been. Thinking about what could’ve happened if this tragedy did not take place.

 “Diluc…”

 You call out for his name. Hoping there is an answer. 

 But… of course there isn’t. 

 Your hands absentmindedly graze upon the corners of the  bed when you suddenly remember the torn letter Adelinde had given you. 

 You open the letter with slight hesitance, noticing the dark stains that presumably came from Diluc’s torn and dirtied clothes. With a heavy sigh and as you dry your tears, you begin to read the letter. 

APRIL 13TH, 45 BP

Ever since you left, I felt as if we were breaking the whole world's heart. But... all this time, it was always the other way around. It was the world that was slowly breaking us. 

 Even in these last moments, I cannot fathom that I will be disappearing from this world without even seeing you again. It hurts. My body. There are bruises and wounds all over. My hands are trembling in fear and weariness. I can barely move my wrist and I can hardly think of the words I want to say. I feel the end is drawing near. Not for the world, not for you, but for me. Everything is caving in, my senses are slowing, my eyes are falling, and just waiting for the rest of my system to put me into an eternal sleep. 

 Would... time be so kind as to slow? Can the world stop for a minute and listen to my plea? To my call? A miracle to happen that could magically transport you to me? I w-wish we could have spent more time together. All these letters I’ve written for you these past few months… were they an omen? Was I foolish to think I could have a future with you? Is this the price to pay for having been separated from you for so long? Is it… still possible to attain it? The life I’ve always wanted with you?  Maybe in another world, we can. 

We will share every innocent dream and talk about our fears. All your hopes and dreams. I will listen to the sound of your voice and the echoes of your soul. I will kiss your forehead, your knuckles, and your lips. I will stand by you in every new day even when people seem so unkind. I will join up all your insecurities, bundle all your flaws, and make them into a constellation so that I may find them and wish them away. I will do everything to make you feel safe. I will do everything to make you feel loved. There was never a day that I doubted you. You are everything to me, (Y/N). You are a free and wandering soul. I wish I could be behind you to support you wherever you may go, but alas, that fate is not for me. And… I think that’s fine.

 Remain as you are. Continue to love others like you have loved me. Teach them what it means to live. Like you have taught me.

 Please… don’t be sad. This is the momentary sadness to a new beginning, my beloved.

I love you to the stars and back. 

I hope that in another world, our paths may cross again. 

May the stars of Teyvat always shine on you.

A heavy yet comforting feeling fills your heart as tears continue to stream down your cheeks. Folding the letter and putting it into the box amongst all the others, You clutch your hand to your chest, looking up at the ceiling.

 “Diluc, my love… if you are out there. I will love you forever. Through all these months of my absence, you have never left my mind and I wish I could have been there  for you. I wish I could have given you the same amount of love that you have given me. There are so many things I wish I could have done with you. Every letter and every word you’ve ever dedicated to me will forever remain in my heart. These handwritten sentiments will be one of my reminders that you are still with me, no matter where I go. Even if it hurts so much, I will continue to live for you. Honor your memory. I will show the world that I have only loved one man in this lifetime. Thank you for everything.

 You have now become one of the stars that shine down upon me. Soon, we will once again meet in the same sky and there, we will have our happily ever after.

 Farewell, my dark knight.”

ೃ taglist: @ganyuuxs @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop @latteshinsou @catgirlkomi @reaped-winnower @monaa @dibhachu @sugurus-princess​ @midnightangelfox​ @call-me-moonflower

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[writing-wh0re]

Good Things Come In Three

Chapter One | Reader Insert Series

Warnings: Language, Horny Reader, Mentions of Smut. 

Words: 1,403 

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden 💚

The Triwizard Tournament was all anyone had been talking about for weeks. But today was the day. The day that Madame Olympe Maxime would release the names of the students who will be joining her in attending the tournament at Hogwarts. 

Nova and I were adamant that our names would be in the goblet of fire. Imagine the fame and the glory you’d have… not to mention the bonus of the thousand galleons. But Nova and I had a deal, whoever won would split the money with the other. So overall, it was a win-win situation; apart from the whole possible gruesome, horrible death thing. Worth it.

“Would you stop shoving me!” 

“Let me see.” 

“Get your ass out of the way.” 

The shrill cries of my fellow students echoed through the empty corridors and I knew exactly where they were coming from. 

My stomach felt as though it was going to fall out of me, yet seemed to churn simultaneously. So many unknowns swirled around my mind, a phenomenon I was not fond of. 

After a few deep breaths and an attempted recollection of my emotions, I turned the corner. What I saw next could only be described in one word: bloodbath. A concoction of hair, flowing blue fabric and desperation. 

Every so often one sulking, obviously disappointed girl would emerge from the group. 

“Bullshit. Complete bullshit I reckon.” 

All these years at a girls school and the bitchy, unsupportive comments still took me aback. Maybe one d…. y/n focus. 

Hands landed on my shoulders with a sudden force that made me jump. 

“Y/n, Y/n!” Nova bounced herself in front of me, an obvious smirk plastered across her face, “I’ve already packed my things.” 

I rolled my eyes. Classic Nova. 

“You’ve already read the list?”  

“I like to be optimistic,” she smiled, “you should try it sometime.” 

But before I could attempt even a semi-witty comeback, Nova had joined the pack of hyenas trying to get a view of the board. 

I fell behind. And I couldn’t see shit. If only I was as tall as Madame Maxime, then this really wouldn’t be an issue. So I charged. Funny how quickly people move when you’re forcefully pushing them out of the way. 

Catching up to Nova I watched her place her finger on the list as she skimmed over the names. A short breath escaped me. But I kept my eyes locked on her and refused to look at the list. It was too nerve racking. I was worried about disappointment.

“You…” Nova trailed off as my breath hitched. My eyes remained glued to her as she read the remainder of the list; it could only be one of two responses. And one of those was going to throw a major spanner in the works. 

Nova was unreadable. Her brow remained determined as her pointer finger dropped. Was I going alone? No. Nope. Absolutely, positively no way. 

“Oh, thank fuck for that. It’s me!” Waves of relief and excitement flowed through both Nova and I. 

This was it. It was all coming together. Suddenly those anxious overthinking thoughts about selection had turned to anxious overthinking thoughts about Hogwarts. Possibilities fluttered through my mind. I couldn’t help but be excited. What if… 

“Hey! Hello? Earth to Y/n. Stop daydreaming, we have to pack!” 

//

“Now… I have heard whispers of there potentially being a ball. So you know what that means?” Nova smirked.

I shrugged. Balls had never really crossed my mind to be honest. And didn’t particularly tickle my fancy. 

“Seriously? Can you just act semi-excited at the thought of a stunning dress and seriously gorgeous Scottish or English men, for once?” 

“You’re lucky I like you.” I quipped back. 

“I am way too invested in finding you both a dress and a man to even try to out-wit you right now.” 

Nova winked and began rummaging through my small wardrobe, determined to find me something elegant. This was almost like a real-life Cinderella moment. Rags to riches. A royal family would have nothing on me. 

“Ah ha!” I jumped. Everytime. Nova really didn’t have a lower volume button. “I did it. You’re welcome. Honestly, I don’t need to be a wizard anymore, I’m going into fashion, baby.” She winked. 

A wave of baby blue silk flew across her body as she held the dress up for my inspection. 

“This, this will turn heads.” My head tilted as I looked over the garment, softly rubbing the fabric between my thumb and index finger. 

“I made this dress from my smaller uniform.” 

Nova’s mouth dropped and her eyes widened. She glanced back down to the dress. Then back to me. Then again to the dress. 

“Are you serious? You realise you’re gorgeous and a genius, aka the whole package.” I shoved Nova softly, rolling my eyes. 

“I don’t know, is it too.. revealing?” Gesturing across my collar bones, the neckline of the dress sitting just off the shoulders. 

“Oh come on. English boys? Scratch that. Incredibly gorgeous, mouthwatering English boys?” I didn’t need to look at her to know what she was doing, hearing the kiss-y noises in the air. 

“Put two options in my case.” 

Nova wiggles her eyebrows, knowing she’s gotten her way. 

“What are you wearing to this ‘maybe ball’?” 

“My black scoop back with the halterneck, obviously.” 

“Oh, someone’s hoping to get some attention.” I wink. 

“Hey, it’s the perfect combination of smart and sexy.” 

That was always Nova’s style. But despite all her descriptive ‘S’ words, she left out slutty. 

“A little fling never hurt anyone, y/n.” 

I suck my teeth at her response. Of course she’d go there. But, was she onto something? Suddenly the idea began to consume my thoughts. Hmm, a little fling. I think to myself. 

Lost in my own world, I mindlessly listen to Nova ramble on about other girls coming with us. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on the words Nova was stringing together, my thoughts wandered to the idea of a man's hands on my body. The heat. The tension. A hot flush rushed through my body, causing me to cross my legs to stop myself from giving anything away. I hadn’t felt this feeling in a long time. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed a real man’s touch. 

“Where do you go?” 

I jolted my head back to Nova’s attention. Whoops. 

“Sorry, just mentally checking off what I need to pack.” 

Nova shrugged, she was used to it by now. Ever since I’d stopped sleeping with Thomas I tended to go into daydreams a lot. Lack of creative expression, Nova had suggested. But let’s be real, it was 100% horniness. 

With Nova distracted, I slipped my good pairs of lace panties into my suitcase. Just in case. 

“Really? You’re packing your own stationary?” Nova asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“I like to write to my parents. Have a problem?” 

“Nope.” Nova says popping the ‘p’ and shaking her head.

“At least I don’t have Mr Snuggles squashed in my bag.” 

Nova narrows her eyes at me, biting the inside of her cheek. Point 1: y/n. 

“I’m all packed, I think.” Smiling, I change the subject, not waiting for Nova’s sarcastic come back, feeling accomplished in my case. 

Nova quickly looks over the open luggage, nodding in approval at what I have squeezed in. 

“I’m going to go find Fleur and see how she’s going.” Nova smiled, “Say hi to your parents for me.” She winked before swiftly exiting. 

A small sigh escapes my lips as I grab out my personalised stationery. I slowly pull out the chair from my desk and sit, vibrating with excitement about divulging my new adventure to my parents. 

‘Dear Mother and Father, 

Hi, it’s your favourite child. 

Writing to let you know that I have been chosen to join Madame Olympe Maxime and a few other select students to go to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. We leave Beauxbatons tomorrow. 

Nova and I are wanting to put our names into the goblet of fire. We are hoping for eternal glory and 1000 Galleons, which we would split if one of us won! 

Fingers crossed I get picked and can bring fame to our name. 

I miss you both and can’t wait to see you again soon. 

Also, Nova says hello. 

Lots of love, 

Y/n xo’

Series Taglist: @maybesandohnos @gaycatlord-stuff @rocky-is-cool @omghufflepuff @gloryekaterina @malfoysfavoritewhore  @coldpiscesmilkshake @letsmariya

Add yourself to the series taglist Here 

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eighteen.

chapter eighteen: yellow pansy ↳ flower meanings:  thinking of you.

chapter summary: you left a journal in his top drawer. pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: haha you’re going to HATE ME word count: 11.5K

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

it took me ages write this, my writersblock was awful BUT IT’S HERE ! We are missing one more chapter but here it is! I hope you don’t hate me as much as I think you will, I split the ending in two chapters because it was LONG, so expect the final chapter in these days

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I got back into writing

You kept a journal. With flowers printed on them. Each and every single one was given by him. You had recently remembered it, wondering where in your room it could be. Hidden behind some other lost forgotten memories or some other unforgettable mysteries. You wondered if the flowers had kept their color. Most of them hadn’t.

“Well, here goes to the happily ever after,” you said as you smiled, even when the notebook was still roaming your mind.

Tim offered a gentle smile, watching carefully, as the white dress fell down.

When it comes to love stories, happy endings are what we wish for. Life, unfortunately, isn’t like that. But often we are bombarded with stories that are just too good to be true, enough for us to believe this. With them down the sunset on a white horse. With prince charming being charming enough.

With Mister Darcy as the sun is rising telling Elizabeth “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

With Donna and Sam getting married, and a bunch of friends singing Abba songs.

With Noah and Ally peacefully drifting off, hand in hand.

With Baby and Johnny Castle dancing together.

Characters that are but a reflection of our deepest dreams. Ones that are kept secret and shut for the world. With stories that make us believe we are happy.

It’s fine to shield in. But it’s no good to dwell on them.

We often don’t get what we wish for when we shield in a dream.

You wondered, what about Valerie and William?

Or… Tom and Y/n?

Your own story was supposed to be kept a secret, yet it ended up being a script and then a movie that would be seen by thousands. Your story transformed into a story people could shield on. A story that had been merely sentiments, then words and a very bad misunderstanding and… then a film.

Seeing yourself on someone else might have been what helped you understand it. Transforming your story into characters and trying to portray a love story that was born out of hatred… had probably been the first mistake.

If we can say it was ever a mistake. How big of a mistake can it be when it brings you so much joy?

Your luck hadn’t been enough for your own faith. But you always wondered, what happens after the happily ever after? Is it truly the outcome? When two souls find each other? Isn’t it only the beginning?

Valerie and William hadn’t had it.

The story ended with Valerie and Robbie getting together, it fit. That’s how the story had been driven. Tom and you had discussed it over and over, the story was written for Valerie to end up with Robbie.

“This is a story, y/n, it’s not us.” He had assured you. “We need to disconnect from it.”

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. But how much had those characters stolen from you?

How disappointing, but you made the decision along with them.

It had been painful to relive some things, and the changes to the script had been made to soothe the pain.

But they had a happily ever after. Separate ways.

Who would’ve thought you’d be so right?

Films and stories often end when marriage comes, or when the couple finally gets together, the happily ever after. You barely believed it was the ending.

Because the real journey began with it. Doesn’t it? Isn't the true adventure when they find each other?

When something goes wrong, though, it means the journey isn’t over. The happily ever after is the ending isn’t it? Isn’t the story over until after they’re happily ever after?

Love, though it might be one of the most precious things, often comes with a heartbreak. A tragedy. It didn't hurt this time, though.

But love, when it’s real, doesn’t seem like a loss even if it ends. Because, isn’t it the ending when they finally are together? If we follow that rule, that the ending is when they’re together then it wasn’t the ending.

Or was it?

You couldn’t help but wonder, however…What if you lived a lie? Just a fairy tale that wasn’t supposed to have a happily ever after.

Though the script was far from reality, you felt like your own story was twisted. Why weren’t you in your ‘happily ever after’?

Maybe the side story was yours. Because you were not the princess about to walk into the sunset.

“I really love the dress,” Tim commented.

You did too, but it had you wondering about happily ever after?

What happens to them after the credit rolls? What happens to the characters when the last page ends? Are those characters strong enough to keep together? Are their stories just dried out? Like flowers. Easily forgotten in a journal hidden in your room.

A bouquet that once served as a beautiful symbol now was scattered on top of the shelf, as a few petals fell down.

Flowers dry out.

“Yes, magnificent,” you answered.

The dress made you remember the day you thought it would last forever. That Tom and you would have that ever after. That it wouldn’t dry out.

Tom had only looked up at you, sitting finally on a director chair and he had smiled. Gently. Caring.

And that thought came to your mind. “I hope this lasts forever.”

And for a moment you thought it could. Maybe it was the endless smiles or the constant yellow flowers adorning your room that would end up on your journal.

But nothing ever does last forever. Not the good things. Not pancakes, or ice cream, or street hot dogs. Moments don’t last forever, that’s why you have to grasp to them.

And there was a point at which you knew, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because the film continues.

However, you liked to think that love was like a flower. One that grows. Not one that is cut to be given. A perennial one. One that blooms, and continues to bloom when it’s taken care of. But perennial flowers don’t bloom all the time.

A flower can’t bloom for eternity. And a cut flower will not preserve.

In stories and films, we know detail by detail. From the very first word, to the last breath. But when it comes to your own, you often forget what is important. We barely stop to see, and suddenly, life escapes from your hands and you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out.

Before you know it, all you’re left with is a script and a movie you can’t bear to watch because it brings too many memories. But good ones, that is. Mostly good.

Before you know it, you have a box with his stuff, and you’re texting to see when you have to drop them off. And before you know it, he is standing there, and you’re hoping he will beg for one last time because you will give it, but he never does, and stays quiet. Too quiet.

Not every love is perennial. Not every love is meant to bloom again.

Perennial flowers, when they bloom, are the most wonderful. But when they’re away, the skies are gray.

But somehow, we go through it. At least you tried to.

The ‘what if’ comes as something complicated. No pillow talks would’ve helped your case, it seemed like any smiles were now hidden under the bed.

It’s needless to say and regard the multiple emotions that had gone by in the relationship, that week it started or that month it finished. That year, if we are honest. That whole year of your relationship. And you had to look back at it. For it all started in a breakup, that had opened the door to be with the love of your life. It all started with a revenge.

It was weird to see it. How a year before you dated Tom, you would have gone with Tim. How you had expected it, how you thought Tim was the endgame. How that year Harry had asked if you would marry Tim and you’d answered that maybe you would.

How at some point you had considered it again. How you even considered Harry. But Tim.

Had Tim waited for a little bit longer, maybe things would’ve turned out quite different. You were thankful he hadn’t. Tim and you were a lesson to each other. Tim had shown you you can be loved and you had shown Tim he can love. Tim and you were fine now, he had found a girl. Lily. Her name was Lily. Purity. Rebirth.

Because, although it had seemed that Tim had died a little with your last conversation before officially letting him go, he had seen himself shine again. How surprising, her name was Lily. Such a coincidence.

Lily, a girl that could easily be passed by. Yet Tim had stopped to see her.

Tim and you would never share what you both said in that conversation. The last flower he had given you was a daisy. A secret between two friends.

Cherry and you went back to what you were before, strangers to each other. But she’d found a girl, by luck. Heather. She was happy now. Happiest.

A year had gone by. Many things had changed. Mostly you, and though you would look back to your past self and warn her that another heartbreak by Tom would be coming, you wouldn’t change it.

A breakup had opened many doors.

Maybe this one would too.

It was bound to come. How on earth were you supposed to grow flowers on a battlefield? But you’d built it together.

And you had. And everything was good, with sunsets and polaroids, and flowers. And fights that would cycle and cyle. But end up cuddling watching reruns of an old 80’s tv show that you barely watched because you were too busy staring into his eyes.

With old fights that would resurface and other secrets that kept chasing you both. But it was good, when you were trying to get the garden back into place, to try and forget the battlefield. Loving him had come so easily, though. Waking up by his side was taken for granted.

You had thought loving him would be a buzzing street, with crowds bustling as the rain is about to begin. You thought loving him would be a Friday night waiting for someone to show up but never did.

You were wrong.

Loving him was walking through a flower field, and taking a Polaroid of the most beautiful sunset. Loving him meant holding his hand and kissing over and over again.

But loving him meant that the sun eventually would set.

And maybe the heartbreak that had come with this one hadn’t been an actual heartbreak and maybe that’s why it hurt. Because it didn’t.

Maybe you’d forged a heartbreak or a relationship. Maybe that had been it, conning yourselves into believing you were fine when you were far from it.

Looking back maybe it was because of Rome, New York, and eventually LA. Cities that you once said you wouldn’t dare to go back to. But now you are willing to visit. Happily, it’s better to walk in a city full of memories rather than one pointless illusion of the memories you could’ve had.

He had gone to New York, and still took his Polaroid everywhere. A habit you loved about him, it seemed he became an expert on holding onto memories.

The breakup had come after James’ wedding. Lovely wedding, by the way. Fairytale full of wonder. A year ago, shortly after the film had premiered, a year after it finished filming.

It was supposed to come. Because when your own brother was finding his way, you had lost yours.

But what happened? When did life slip in? When did it start ending?

Before you knew it, you had packed your stuff without you being aware of it. You had packed everything up, except your own heart. You left your heart right there, right next to that stupid journal, in his upper drawer, right next to his bed. Had he opened that drawer ever since or had he forgotten about it?

There was your journal, not in your room. In his. And he hadn’t given it back.That’s why you felt lost. Your heart was imprinted there and he hadn’t given it back.

But you had packed everything else, with him not even trying to stop you. Just watching you circle around.

Was it fear? Maybe it had been fear, from both. You supposed that’s how life was. Loving was not a duty.

You only had one request for him, one last request: “Remember me, I was the one to love you, and I was the one to call in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep. Just remember me when we’re no longer here.”

Because it hadn’t been your fault, your life just slipped in. Distance. No time for calls. Your job getting too much recognition, his job getting even more. Fights that were only to push each other away so it wouldn’t hurt when you both were away. Maybe being enemies had come useful when it was supposed to end.

Fight, and more fights in the end. Yet you were gripping each other. And life had just slipped in. Like it always does.

And it wasn’t him. And it wasn’t you.

“Tell me you actually want it to end,” he had asked when you had the final box.

You didn’t. But there wasn’t much you could do, expect walk out the doors.

Or was there? But even if it was a breakup, you both agreed to remain friends, and then it transformed into little excuses to see each other.

Because it didn’t end up badly. It had been life slipping in. With barely having any time for something that needed too much time to build on.

Filming initially had helped you, how beautiful it was creating it, what a beautiful outcome it had been out of your heartbreak. With music, and fights and everything that was splendid.

Maybe the film wasn’t a huge success, but it had been enough for you both to try and mend it after.

But when filming had ended and you had to go back, that’s when the problems started. His job, your new one. Him there, you here. When you were together, it was amazing, worth it. But then you barely could. And you could barely grip each other.

Then you were too different. Then you were just the same, so stubborn and stupid.

Then it was old arguments, and new ones.

When was it gone? Had he stopped loving you?

He had asked you, near the end. “Do you still love me? Are we still enough?”

“I do love you.” But you hadn’t answered the second question. And what was it? Why wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t we?” you had questioned.

“Dunno, it’s delicate.”

It was.

Maybe it had been James’ words for Clark. About how love shouldn’t be forced, how love should be simple and love shouldn’t be hurt. About how they built it together. How it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t complicated.

And then Clark had said it, too. How he loved being with someone that he enjoyed silence with. How love was more than passion. How love was more than a kiss. Seeing how simple it had been for them, was a bit disappointing for you both. Your relationship was anything but simple.

And it wasn't now because you didn’t trust each other, or because you wanted to fight. No, it simply was life telling you, you shouldn’t be together. And maybe it was also the fact that you both thought you worked because you had never experienced silence together. Always a wreck. Always a mess. Always so passionate. But… was it only that? Maybe it was the passion of the moment.

You knew Tom still played the conversation with Tim over and over in his head. How by the end he said he felt guilty by it all.

You too, you were both driven by guilt and guilt eventually snaps you.

So it ended.

“Is it too soon to end this?” You had asked him.

Tom had shrugged. “Would you rather it be late?”

But that didn’t mean you… had to stop seeing each other. Or did it? So you based your new relationship on excuses. And the excuses had grown. ‘I need to give you this hoodie’, ‘I forgot my charger at your place’ ‘I need someone to drive me to do errands’, ‘I need help running lines’, ‘I need a date for this party.’

And then they didn’t even make sense. ‘I can’t open a jar’ ‘I can’t watch this movie alone’ ‘I need to rant about the ending of this series’ ‘I sneezed and no one blessed me’. Stupid things. And then it was the truth ‘I need to listen to your voice’. ‘I miss you’. ‘I want to see you’.

But it was only seeing each other, with no… relationship. No kissing, no anything. Only excuses. A… friendship.

True friendship, for the first time ever. And you could talk for hours with him until the sun came out, and you could laugh with him.

Maybe it hurt that it wasn’t more, but maybe it was never meant to be like that. But you were in a good place. In the best place you had been. The strongest you had both been, too. How civil you were with clothes on. And how many times had you stopped your will to undress him.

Your lips searched for his but they never got what they wanted, your hands hurt from keeping them to yourself, and your heart would only ache a bit.

From both sides.

Seemed that both of you knew what you had to build up on. And maybe you both knew the risk that would come if you were willing to give it a try without having something to settle on.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt. Because it would bloom again, right? Maybe you were preparing the dirt to plant it in. Not loose flowers now. Have seeds.

Or that’s the idea you built yourself into. Because honestly. Had you ever been more than enemies with benefits?

But now, you were friends. Good friends. Maybe you were in love with him, and grown fonder of him now. Really, really in love. But friends. Friends who stared a little bit too much into each other’s eyes, or friends who would easily recognize each other’s laughter. Friends who would have their feet up the headboard and talk about life. Friends who instinctively would give the other a bite of their food or offer a sip of their drink.

Friends who would take a deep breath each time the other walked into the room, and friends who avoided getting too close that it would be mistaken for something else. Secret moments. Standing on the other sides of the room, turning your head away each time your eyes met.

Maybe you didn’t get the happy ending you wished for, or not the one you had expected to.

But you were happy. And it had ended. Those things were unrelated.

But a lot had changed.

Ay first, you had to fight the urge to undress him. Now you had to fight the urge to stare too long into his smile.

Really, a lot had changed.

Tom had started dating someone else, you didn’t know how long that lasted. You had pretended not to care, although you did.

You went out on dates, too. Didn’t inform him, either. Not explicitly. Though he did know.

Because you were friends. That was the happy ending you deserved.

A lot had changed.

And you were currently helping a bride tie that bow in her dress as she stared at her reflection. Her hair hung to her shoulders and half of it was tied with perfect braids. She was finally having her happy ending.

“Are you ready for the veil?” Timmy asked, as he watched the reflection of the bride.

“Can you give me a bloody second, Timothée?” Emma snapped with her usual tone. “I’m fucking busy right now, the veil can wait, don’t be a dick.”

You only held your laughter eyeing Tim. Tim and you had stopped looking at each other like you felt guilty for a while now. Tom’s jealousy had not exactly been driven away, you guessed it never would go.

But surprisingly enough, they became...friends. Or they could stand each other now after James had talked to both of them.

James and the married life that seemed to suit him. His wedding had been very small, but charming nonetheless. You wondered if you would’ve had something like that, very personal.

Quite a different story from Emma and Harry now. Whose love had conquered. And they had had a rough patch but how difficult can it be when you find your soulmate?

Maybe Harry and Emma had Tom and you doubting too. Tom and you had seen several times that you were not meant to be. Your coincidences in life had not been so, rarely coincidences but the both of you fighting for something. Too stubborn to admit that life was getting in the way.

Tom and you had all the odds in your favor and the ones to fuck it up were you both.

While Harry and Emma always had everything against them and they managed to work it out.

Who’re the soulmates here?

“What a lovely thing the blushing bride is, eh?” Tim rolled his eyes.

Emma had been… quite the bride. Everything had to be perfect, which was not likely for Emma to be that way. But she did say it, since she was marrying the love of her life it had to be big enough. In a rustic hotel, full of books and vintage furniture. A very cottage-like wedding. Very Emma and Harry. Unique.

It was perfect.

It had to, honestly. After the crossroads… everything had changed for them.

How Emma and Harry got back together was no mystery, Harry had been brave enough to go for her. When two souls are meant to be even the rockiest path will be easy to travel by.

It was the opposite of what you and Tom used to have. Emma and Harry had all the friendship, relationship settled, they just missed… the passion.

And so when they found each other, and were like two horny teenagers running around, it became...so effortless. Because they had something built upon.

As if life was rewarding them for their patience. For the love they shared. For each and every smile.

Both wild flowers, Often disregarded, had found each other, and created the most beautiful bouquet.

You only chuckled at Tim’s remark. “Splendid bride.”

While you and Tom had never been friends. Only too driven by the other, and passion and… when it ended? What were you? Were you merely nightly romance?

Tim groaned. “Emma—“he raised the veil. “I’m not trying to—I just think you should be wearing this already.”

“Shut up,” Emma granted. “I will but right now I’m—“

“Staring at your reflection?” Tim challenged. Because Emma was actually just doing that. Staring at the perfect dress she was wearing. Shining brightly like a diamond against the sun, her skin perfectly sparkled.

Emma looked for your glance in the mirror,”y/n, love.”

“Yes?”

“As my maid of honor, what are you willing to do?”

You offered her a grin, “Anything.”

Emma stared into your eyes. “Kill Timothée.”

You chuckled, “Almost anything, you should’ve asked earlier. I don’t want to get blood in my dress.”

Tim was surprised by your words. “So you would’ve?”

“Possibly, I don’t want to encounter a bridezilla Emma.”

Timmy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” Emma and you said at the same time.

“I’m going to check on the guys, I am one hundredth percent sure they’re still in their pj’s drinking beer,” You commented.

The hotel room for the boy’s was only a floor below. It was everything Harry and Emma had probably wished for. An outdoor wedding that was planned to the very perfection. Very fairytale like. Lights hanging from trees, flower petals covering the aisle, daisies as the centerpieces, and daisies in Emma’s hands. Emma’s dream had always been an outdoor wedding.

When speaking with Emma and Harry both had stated that they made the decision not to give up. Always leaving you to wonder.

There was a part of you that was blinded by desirous thoughts. Had it been a mistake? To conclude a relationship that you had fought so long for?

Lately it had been.

You made your way to the elevator and as it opened you found a familiar face. He seemed uneasy, though.

“Y/N!” His voice was only a confirmation to his precarious state.

Your cheeks furrowed as you smiled, “Clark, hi!”

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a hug, a very nervous hug. as you stepped into the elevator. “Fuck, you look stunning. Loving the flowers on the hair.”

The dress was absolutely stunning, you had to give in that Emma’s taste was remarkable. Sky blue had been her color choice, to match with the flowers. Daisies and hydrangeas. Innocence and beauty.

It was ironic, a bit. You’d helped her with the flowers, and initially she had like sunflowers. As if it had been sntached from you. Maybe it was destiny laughing in your face. Yet she’d gone for the delicate hydrangeas.

“Thanks, Emma’s idea,” you grinned. “Where are you—“

“Oh eh, with the other boys,” he said as you pressed the button. He was shaking.

“So, what’s got you all flustered?” You questioned.

You could see Clark sweating. “Hm?”

“What’s got you all flustered?” You questioned, again.

He didn’t give you an answer. “Clark?”

Clark bit his lip. It was never usual for Clark to be anxious or to hide thoughts for himself. The man was always certain of his thoughts and actions. There was probably a calamity waiting for you.

“I—I am only the messenger,” he said, “I was actually looking for—Tim but—“

There it was. “But?”

“I think you might be of more help,” Clark admitted.

“Clark?” Your brows furrowed as the elevator door opened. He only offered a nervous smile as he licked his lips.

You saw Tom at the end of the hallway, on a call, shirt buttoned half way, his other hand running through his hair, he looked troubled. You were hoping his eyes would meet yours. Ever since the wedding was approaching he had been inattentive. Maybe the wedding hurt as much. It had been so hard for him to switch from lovers to friends. Did he ever stop and wonder if you guys could’ve had one? Did Tom also hindered with painful thoughts of how everything had so carelessly ended?

Lately it was all you had in your mind, how you felt ready. Or maybe it was the pressure that the wedding was giving you. And just as you started getting closer, Tom had backed away without a warning.

James was just getting out of the room, mid hallway. Your brother seemed to be as stressed. The tie around his neck barely covering it, his hair was scrunched. James’ eyes crossed with yours and then went straight to his husband’s.

“You brought y/n?” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, fuck it,” he looked at his watch. “Yes, you might be more helpful,” James said as he gestured with his hand to come over.

There was clearly something going on. You eyed Tom, who still was not aware you were there.

“I—Sam, no, no, I’ll—I can’t stay here, fuck I have his phone here—“You heard him say before James had dragged you into the room.

You approached your brother. “What is going on?”

“We—couldn’t find Harry’s tie,” James explained.

A tie? This was all of it? This whole catastrophe was for a tie?

“Can't any of you give him yours?” You frowned. It was no surprise that they hadn’t come up with a solution to such a simple problem, you could not expect less from men.

James rolled his eyes. “So he went to search for it about an hour ago but he fucking left his phone here and—“

Then you understood what was going on. “Where’s Harry?” You closed your eyes.

James gulped. “That’s—the thing.”

“Where is Harry?” You questioned, again.

Clark cleared his throat. “We don’t—know.”

Oh, so you were fucked. “Whose stupid idea was—?”

“Well, Dad told me he left home about 40 minutes ago and he didn’t see him at home, Sam hasn’t found him—Their fucking twin telepathy thing is broken, I guess—“Tom had walked in staring at his phone, loudly explaining his previous conversation. “Oh—hi, y/n.”

“Hi.” It was rutinary, for both of you. To just—stop when the other walked into a room. You blushed. Only noticing until then how handsome he looked. Seemed you hadn’t realized how badly you wanted him. In the most innocent way, in the way that you only wanted to offer him your heart. In the way that you only wanted the sole confirmation that he still loved you. In the way you wanted to be the reason for his smile.

You wanted to ask him, if it was okay he was still on your mind. Was it wrong? Would he be chill with him visiting your dreams?

Because that had been the hardest part of it all. At some point you had both decided you needed to move on… Because both of you at the beginning were trying to get back together and after a long conversation that almost led to one kiss, you both decided it wasn’t appropriate. So pretending you didn’t love each other was the way you’d keep him, for whatever it was worth.

Tom had said it once, hadn’t he? How everytime you both stated your feelings… it hurt. So now that you weren’t stating them, you were supposed to not hurt. Why did it, then?

“You look—stunning,” he eyed you up and down, and licked his lips, “I—I’m sorry I didn’t-uh-call this morning-I was—“

“You look pretty, too,” you interrupted. Knowing that the missed call would be a subject for James’ interest. The short story was—you had probably had a few more drinks than you should’ve with him at the hotel bar with Clark and James and Tom had walked you to your room, only walking, not even a kiss on the cheek as much as you had wanted it, but he had promised to call in the morning after you had claimed he had been ignoring you. He hadn’t called.

And was aware of it, which meant he hadn’t forgotten. It meant he had avoided you, again.

It had seemed that from one morning to another Tom had decided that the word friends meant strangers.

Maybe he wouldn’t pay a visit to your dreams.

He reached for your hair, “I like the flowers—”

“Can you both leave your ‘in love but not together’ bullshit for later?” James snapped you both out of the trance. “The wedding is in two hours and the fucking groom is no where in sight.”

Both Tom and you turned to him, travelling back to reality. “Well it’s not my fault! Who—sent him? Why didn’t you guys offer to go for the stupid tie?” You snapped back at your brother.

Tom looked away.

Of course. You watched him. “Tom? How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” he admitted.

You took a deep breath. This was definitely not the scenario you wanted to find yourself in. Had… Harry escaped? It was… not likely to escape but then again, you’d learned not to expect anything.

It was reason enough to worry.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said.

James sighed. “He took my car and—“

“You gave him your car to escape—!” You snapped. “Your car always stops working!”

“No,to go for his tie, not to escape,” Tom snapped his fingers with a smile defending your brother. “We-”

“Thomas oh my god, I am not even- All of you, you all thought it was a good idea?” You were furious now. Whose stupid idea was it to-Of course it had been Tom’s. You were going to jump to conclusions. “To send the groom when any of you could have gone-?”

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You really didn’t, however it was ineluctable. Not because Harry didn’t love Emma, but because Harry was… scared. You didn’t blame him. True love comes barely once in a thousand lifetimes and when we finally get to it, it might be too much for us to handle. However after your conversations with Harry this cataclystic outcome had not been foreseen.

“My dad is around the hotel trying to find him,” Tom quickly answered.

You took a deep breath. You perfectly knew Harry.

Harry and you were close as you had once been, in a way, Harry and you were well apprised of the other. Harry was reasonable enough not to leave his wedding.

“He offered to go,” James explained.

Harry wouldn’t have offered that unless he needed to go away. And you only needed one confirmation, there was no way Harry would’ve forgotten his tie. Harry would’ve never forgotten it, unless it had been self sabotaged.

You were conveyed to the drawers, opened each one carefully, fearing you’d find it, and your gut had been right. there it was. The tie in all of its splendor. “And you let him go?” You asked, taking the tie and swinging it to them. “To search for this tie?”

“Yes,” James closed his eyes. “Fuck. We should’ve known.”

Your eyes crossed with Tom’s and then you then realized it, Tom seemed calm. Tom wasn’t freaking out. Not externally. You weren’t sure if he really wasn’t or if it was the usual wall you both build around the other. Incomprehensible it seemed now. Always keeping it cool, So many things you’ve lived and you had let them go oh so easily?

But you were flawed. You had been. But not now, what was stopping you both? Wasn’t he still the one holding your broken heart in the palm of his hand? Had he not borrowed it?

You were still trying to hold his.

But your mind shouldn’t be worried about your relationship with Tom when the groom was nowhere to be found. When he had lied that he lost his tie and it was right in that drawer.

Yet, you somehow knew there was something… Something there.

“He was supposed to go home then?” You questioned Tom.

Tom was getting anxious by the second. “Yes, so we can go look for him.”

“The two of you?” James interrupted.

“Yes the two of us, we could split and look for him but...” Tom said. “Someone has to stay here.”

James was slightly annoyed, you could tell. But James was often annoyed at you and Tom. James had been the most disappointed about the resulting relationship. Honestly, everybody was disappointed. Had you been cowards for giving up?

So much drama and for what?

“Of course you’d think splitting up is a good idea,” James snapped with poison. James was annoyed because he always pointed it out to you, how much you’d fought to have him and how easily you’d walked out.

Walking out had not been easy. Walking out had to be the most painful decision you’ve ever made. And you remembered that night you had, the city was asleep, the night was quiet, and you were the only one standing on that street, under that streetlight. Alone. He hadn’t gone to you. You’d looked back to his window, expecting him to be there, and then the door had remained closed.

You cleared your throat. “I might know where Harry is,” you lied. You were at a loss of your mind at the moment. Maybe it was shock. Not maybe, it certainly was shock. The sole thought of Harry not appearing at his own wedding had not ever crossed your mind. You’d thought Emma would’ve. Would’ve been in character, but how stupid do you have to be to run from your wedding on your wedding day?

Tom directed a glance. “I think I might know where he is, too.”

Did he? Or was he only trying to prove a point?

Though the friendship was afloat, some habits could never wear out. Especially when it came to challenging the other. After the breakup it had become a sort of competition of who was dealing better with it.

Neither of you were coping well, but you wouldn’t admit it.

How disappointing, isn’t it? A whole story to end just in a few words. A whole journey to be plucked off your hands. So quickly, so easily.

How ironic it seemed that after such a long time, it was this breaking up bullshit.

James watched between the both of you. “Do you really?”

“Yes,” Tom and you answered and panicked at the other’s statement.

“Well, I’ll race you there,” you challenged.

Tom squinted, “I don’t have my car, dad gave me a ride.”

“Well, then, you should start running so I don’t beat you there,” you grinned and then walked off the room, decidingly. Only thing left was knowing where exactly Harry had run to.

“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” James reminded you. “We need to find Harry.”

“I know, Jamesy!”

Tom had rushed after you, “You have no idea where he is, do you?” He mumbled.

“Not a clue,” you admitted. “You?”

He laughed, “Not a fucking clue, either.”

You both got into the elevator. He dug his hands into his pockets.

“Do you think he escaped?” Tom questioned.

“It’s possible,” you admitted. You sighed, as you pressed the button to the upper floor.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked.

“I need my keys,” You said.

Tom’s eyes widened. “And are you telling Emma?” He was panicking.

“Of course!” You gave him the widest beam. “She’ll be delighted!”

“What?”

You jokingly slapped his head. “Of course not, idiot! How the fuck am I supposed to tell her? What would I even tell her? Hey! We can’t find Harry! He might have run off! No!”

“Right. Then what’s the alibi?” Tom asked. “Just showing up and leaving?”

You sighed, “You, you will be my alibi.”

Tom blinked but followed after you when the elevator door finally left you at your floor, you rushed to the room, but stopped in front of it, buttoning Tom up. He watched you with confusion.

“I thought I was your alibi,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Not that kind of alibi, dipshit.“

Helaughed, rolling his eyes and avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a while since that could be the alibi.”

You decided to ignore the statement, “Now, when I walk in, if you hear Emma question me—just call me and try rushing me.”

“Alright, but I think we need a solid alibi, y/n,” Tom pushed.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take care of that,” you confirmed and opened the door where you were welcomed by Timmy, who was about to go out.

“Oh, hey,” Tim greeted and then eyed Tom. “Thomas.”

“Timothée,” Tom nodded his head.

Even when they both presumed to be friends, you knew that Tim and Tom would always have some sort of… disagreement.

“Uh, I was about to… go see Lily,” Tim explained, turning back to you. “Mind staying with Emma-? Her mother is on one last minute arrangements, it might rain so they’re trying to figure out what to do-So if you could—“

“Actually,” you cleared your throat. “An emergency came up, so I need you to stay here, maybe tell Lily to come here?”

Tim frowned. “What emergency?”

“We’re taking care of it,” Tom explained as you rushed in looking for your purse. “We’ll be quick,” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Y/N, babe, you’re back!” Emma commented.

You squinted your eyes closed, “And I’m leaving—sorry, I need to uh—It will be quick I promise there’s an issue with—there’s an emergency—“

Emma was nervous, “y/n? Everything okay? Did something happen to the flowers?”

You couldn’t lie to her, but you could omit the truth. “No, everything okay with the flowers—I promise I’ll be here quickly, I’m just going to—“

“Y/N, darling?” You heard Tom outside. “We need to go, now.”

Emma heard and then she was no longer going to question you. Not right now, at least. “Ah,” Emma said, knowingly as she rolled her eyes. “I see, Tom— an emergency with Tom.”

“I promise it’s not like that,” you assured her. “But everything is okay and— I’ll be here in time.”

“I am freaking out, do you see the sky? It’s grey! Fucking grey! I need to stop the rain!” Emma yelled. “What if it’s a bloody sign? Fuck, I need to talk to Harry, I need him-”

You freaked out by then. “No, Emma, calm down, it’ll be okay, we will figure something out!”

“Y/N! Please!” Tom called in again.

Emma watched you, “I swear to god, y/n, if your emergency is fucking that man I will murder you.” “Trust me, it’s not.”

Emma glared, “Y/N, I’ll only say it one more time. If you’re leaving my wedding to have sex with that hunk, I will kill you.”

You shook your head. “I’m… Trying to figure out what to do with the rain, okay? Leave this ro me! I’ll see you in a bit, Emma!” You ran back out.

You saw Tom’s mother walking down the hallway, she offered you a concerned look.

Tom seemed calm enough for Tim, however, who was watching him with curiosity. You were thankful that they avoided conversing with each other, especially because Tom would probably screw up the alibi. One that you didn’t have. But probably Tim had bought it, even if he had yet to hear what the alibi was. However, you knew that Tom’s presence was a solid alibi for rather than anything else.

Tom had been an alibi for your nerves. You knew that Tim wouldn’t question why you were nervous because he knew you were always nervous when Tom was around. You certainly looked flustered and having Tom there would definitely explain why you were jittery.

Tim raised his brows at you, and you only took Tom’s hand in an attempt to drag him back to the elevator. Tim was explicitly confused.

“Ah, Nikki! I’m so glad you’re here, Emma is finishing up, would you mind helping her?” Your voice was coming out slightly coarse.

The woman gulped, “are Tom and you taking care of the...rain issue?” She questioned.

“Yes, ma’,” Tom quickly nodded, “we will… find the rain.”

Some things never change, Tom was still an idiot. And for being an actor how terrible was he at lying.

“Find?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing to worry about, Tim darling,” Nikki stepped into the room, trying to push Timothee back inside, “they are taking care of it and they should go look at it, right now, chop chop!”

“See you in a bit, Tim!” You said as you ran to the elevator as Nikki closed the door, you finally were able to let go of Tom’s hand.

He cleared his throat as he pressed the button, “So what was the alibi?” Tom second glanced at you. “Why would we take care of the rain?”

“Because it got lost,” you shrugged. “Why else would we find it.”

He closed his eyes as you both walked into the elevator. “I’m an idiot.”

“Biggest one.”

He chuckled, “I—uh, heard Emma’s comment. About her thinking we were going to-”

You blushed, “Yeah.”

Big distance between both of you. Never ever close enough to accidentally brush against each other or hands coincidentally touching.

How different it was from the elevator in New York.

Tom cleared his throat. “Good to know where she stands in that subject.”

You shrugged, “I would also get mad if my best friend ditched me at my wedding to have sex with an idiot.”

He smirked rolling his eyes. “I believe the term she used was hunk.”

You ignored the comment.

“Why didn’t Timothee question us?” Tom asked.

You shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that no one questions us?”

Tom furrowed his brows. “How so?”

“Whenever we are together, they never ask anything, they just let us be,” you admitted. Because everyone was waiting for you both to get back together or everyone expected something more from you. You never gave it to them.

He tilted his head slightly, agreeing with you. “I guess they think they’re going to make things awkward.”

No. People let you be because they wanted you to solve it.

“As if they could be,” you chuckled. “I think that’s the best part of us right now, people just don’t… meddle.”

Tom smiled, “I guess.”

You cleared your throat, “Now, where the fuck do you reckon Harry is?” You asked as you reached the lobby, turning back to what actually mattered.

“Honestly, I have no idea, nothing can come to my mind, it’s just… Not likely from Harry to run away,” Tom said. “Like—Me? Definitely. I would’ve—“

“Yes, you’d definitely run,” you nodded as you jingled the keys. Tom asked for the car at the valet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom questioned.

“You’d definitely escape from your own wedding,” you chuckled. “You’re so afraid of commitment. It’s the Gemini in you.”

He opened his mouth with pride, “excuse me? Me the one afraid of commitment? May I remind you of your past, my lady?”

You avoided his gaze. “You may not.”

“Said no to a proposal, poor Timothee,” Tom started with a smirk.

“Okay that’s—“You cleared your throat, chuckling slightly. “You shouldn’t—“

“Then—Then,you faked a relationship.”

You eyed him, “are we really going to touch that subject, again?”

“You were scared of commitment enough to fake one,” he joked.

You could joke about it now. Or he could. You’d never joke about it.

“Or I knew you wouldn’t commit so I had to fake I didn’t want it,” you smugly answered.

He faked annoyance. “Well, you ran to another country, yes, just after confessing your lovely feelings through a letter—“

“That’s…different.”

“Then you didn’t give me an answer—you didn’t know if you wanted to date me,” he recalled.

You scoffed, “Thomas, may I remind you why I didn’t want to date you?”

“Then you called it quits after seeing your brother getting married and you were scared we were heading there too,” Tom said.

You gulped, “Ah, yes that last one wasn’t me—“ you reminded him. “Not entirely.”

Tom licked his lips. “Maybe we are both afraid of commitment.”

“No,” you nudged him. “I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.”

There was a sudden silence. You’d barely talked about it before. As if the relationship had suddenly disappeared.

You hadn’t talked about the breakup once in months.

“I would say we are at a crossroads but,” he shrugged. “I do not believe that commitment was the reason for—“

“Nope,” you gave in. “It was not.”

Because it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact you were both too committed to a relationship without form.

“However—you did—“Tom cleared his throat. “I mean—we were headed in some sort of direction.”

“Thomas, I don’t think now is the time to have the conversation we haven’t had.”

“So we should keep pushing it, then? Pretending we are both fine with this agreement? Lately we don’t seem fine with it.”

You knew he was right. Neither of you were entirely happy with this whole new friendship thing. “I—maybe we can talk about it when we find Harry!”

Tom pursed his lips, “so you do want to talk about it?”

You took a deep breath, “Thomas, we can push aside that conversation but we cannot push aside the fact your brother is nowhere to be found on his wedding day.”

“Fine.”

“Besides I think if we’ve pushed it long enough—“

He laughed. “We are—particularly calm about that subject.”

“I don’t think we are,” you admitted. “We just like to pretend when we are calm around each other.”

Tom clicked his tongue, “Maybe. But I’m—We haven’t talked about that in a while.”

“And it’s not the moment right now, it’s your brother’s wedding, and he is nowhere to be found,” you repeated.

Tom’s smile faded and was overstrung again. The car was there.

You let him drive, he usually drove your car. Another habit that hadn’t worn out.

Now things weren’t calm, as if the sudden rush had become the both of you. You finally got it, the anxiety that should’ve come from hearing it. The anger and despair that you were supposed to feel from Harry running away.

He looked down, “what’s that?” He pointed at the cup on the cup holder.

“Coffee, from yesterday,” you explained. “Didn’t finish it.”

“You think I could die from that?” He asked.

You looked at him. “I—don’t know but—You're not thinking of—“

“Drinking it?” Tom smirked. “Yeah, I’m just—-thirsty.”

“Please don’t.”

He took the cup, “I won’t die.”

“I guess not but it’s been sitting here one day!” You tried taking it off. He gripped it and shook his head.

“I won’t die!” He said before taking a sip and scrunching his nose. “This is fucking disgusting.”

“Why are you bloody drinking it?” You laughed.

He laughed, “I—I don’t know, but no it’s not that bad.”

“Thomas what the fuck,” you couldn’t stop laughing. “If you die then I’ll have to take care of your dead body and finding Harry, and my priority is finding Harry so I’d have to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s”

Tom giggled and stuck his tongue out, acting so terribly as if he was actually dying.

“You know,” you watched him with fake repulsion. “You deserve an Oscar for that one performance.”

“Right?” He grinned. “I’ll thank you when I receive it.”

You chuckled, “I think we should focus on Harry instead, yes?”

You both discussed places where he would go, that park? Unlikely. That Pub? He wasn’t there. Home?

Where in the world would he go?

“What if he—?” You were getting tired. “What if he didn’t run away?”

Tom looked over, he was rubbing his face, angry you hadn’t found him at the third pub. “That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.”

“It makes no sense, does it?” You questioned.

“No, he—he loves her,” Tom licked his lips. “It’s cause—“ he clutched to the wheel. “I don’t think Harry would—“

“No, I don’t think so—I just—“

It started to rain, because of course it bloody had to. Seemed that the ambiance always had the urge to level up to the level of drama you were always living.

“Jesus Christ, can we ever get into a dramatic moment without it raining?” Tom questioned, angrily.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I—It was on the news forecast, I am sorry to inform you, but we’ve got nothing to do with the weather.”

Tom laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Alright, if he’s not at home then he’s—“You laughed, “Where the fuck is Harry?” You yelled, defeated.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—hate Harry.”

You agreed. “Wait—wait, where’s your dad driving around?”

“Dunno, but he would’ve called,” Tom admitted. “Bloody hell, I hate Harry—I—can’t believe he did this.” You stayed quiet. If he had. What had led him to it? The day before he had been alright. Of course, he seemed nervous but he was excited, dreamy. In love.

“What do you know?” He questioned.

You frowned, getting your gaze back to him. “What?”

“You have your—thinking face on,” Tom pointed out. “See? Brow furrowed and hand on hair and everything,” he said. “You feel...guilty?”

“What?” You chuckled nervously. “No!”

“I know you guys spoke yesterday,” he recalled.

“Well yes, I wished him luck, but nothing—He gave me no clue of that, no clues of running away!” you admitted. “He was scared but he—I mean I thought it was usual wedding jitters but—he didn’t—I just—Calmed him. I mean he talked to you before, you probably were the one to scare him!”

“I—what?” Tom was taken aback. “I—I didn’t—“

“He talked to you before me!”

“yes, we talked but I gave him brotherly—marriage advice.”

You scoffed. “You? You gave him marriage advice?”

Tom chuckled nervously, “I—no, but—love advice.”

“We are the last people on earth that should give advice on that,” you stated.

He sighed, “I know but—“

“What did you say to him? Maybe you scared him and that’s why he ran away!” You stated, poking him.

He frowned, “Did not!”

“What did you even say to him?” You pushed. “I just know.”

He rolled his eyes, and mocked, “you just know?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Yes, idiot! I know, you give the worst advice on love, you’re so dramatic.”

“I am dramatic?” He laughed.

“Yes,” you interrupted before he could even defend himself, “and—and, and I am too. We are—Oh god, are we to blame for Harry running away?”

Tom seemed to realize it at the same time. “I mean—Considering what we both could’ve said—“

Neither of you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe with guilt.

“I’m scared,” Tom admitted. He sighed, holding one last laughter.“We’re fucked.”

You both stayed calmly, as the rain halted against the car.

“What did you talk about with him?” He questioned.

Of course the question held more than that. You knew what he was asking about actually.

Seemed that both of you knew you had basically laid it on Harry the day before. Or maybe not. But where else would Tom ever get his advice from?

You had told him not to give up, you’d told Harry that he had found it, whatever love is, he’d found it.

“How I was proud of him, how I wanted what he was getting,” you shrugged.

You had also joked about how you and him wouldn’t have worked out. But you’d also said you were sorry it hadn’t worked out with Tom either. How you knew that him and Emma were not headed there, that he had nothing to worry about.

How you regretted the script. Spilling out your heartbreak for the world to see. Spilling your love story that was barely one and how people had a lot to say about it.

How it was painful to hide your love. How you knew Tom hadn’t moved on either but probably was planning to.

You told Harry to keep his feelings for Emma, and only Emma. That he didn’t have to share it. You had told Harry to treasure every morning, and to find a flower to talk for him.

“You?”

“I apologized for ruining his engagement party,” Tom nodded, “the first one.”

You both gulped.

“But how I—“ Tom shifted in his seat. “How I thought that they had found the silver linings for it all. That after being apart they’d just come back stronger. And how—I was happy for him. How they overcame all obstacles. And how they were just meant to be.”

“Soulmates they are,” you said. “Which is why it makes no sense he is not there.”

“We need to find him,” he stated.

You nodded. “We are very calm, though, considering-”

“Yeah,” he gave in. “I—What about the park?”

“Oh? The park? Not a park, the park, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” you teased. “Oh yes, the park. As if there aren’t hundreds of parks. Yes the park.”

He snorted a laugh, “shut up! You know where I meant!”

“Well, drive, you pillock!” You chuckled. “Drive to—the park!”

He rolled his eyes and was about to start the car, yet again.

“Wait,” there was a part of you that thought you knew where he might be. But—to explain where it was would be difficult. “Let me drive.”

To try and find Harry. Which was technically the quest.

You had less time now. You were tired. But there was something that was making you believe you could find him. You hoped you were right.

Being behind the wheel with Tom as your copilot was weird. You always let him drive because you usually were in charge of the music.

“Well, given that I’m here, I’ll be for the first time in charge of the music in your car,”he said. He seemed to have the same thing in mind.

Which was completely stupid since you were looking for a lost groom, but well, Tom and you didn’t have much in common but you could always brag about the same stupidity and brain cell you shared.

He took the aux cord as you were driving, driving to that location that wasn’t far enough. A place you knew that gave Harry peace. The park.

But of course your own peace was disturbed as ‘I think we're alone now’ played.

You hadn’t listened to that song in a long while, since you’d danced to it on his living room, most of the lights out, your screen light and his own eyes being the only light you needed. When the things were good.

You had, purposefully, erased most songs that ever reminded you of him.

“You seriously have that song?” You snorted as the memories flooded back in.

Tom avoided your glance and shrugged, “What? It’s on my playlist.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I notice that. That’s how music works.”

There was silence. Probably driven by the growing fear of not finding Harry, probably coming from the fear that Harry had actually escaped. And what would that mean?

Had Tom and you really scared him?

But you both drowned the fear while humming the song.

Or maybe the silence came from the very memories of the song.

“It’s on this specific playlist honestly,” Tom said after a few songs.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“It’s—the song,” he cleared up. “haven’t you noticed the songs playing are only songs you like? Or songs—”

Songs with background. You shrugged, “Well, we have similar taste.”

He laughed, “No, y/n, we truly don’t.”

You glanced at him, as he was looking out the window. “Huh, alright—maybe that is the reason we broke up.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, that is.”

“No,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “what Imean—this is my—you playlist.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Tom asked.

“What does that even mean?” You questioned.

He licked his lips. “I—well.”

“So you ignore me but you have a playlist—a me playlist?” You questioned.

Tom licked his lips, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, it’s—been hard.”

It had been, for you, too. “It’s harder if we are apart,” you pointed out.

He gulped, “That is my point,” he coughed. “We are friends,” he said. “And lately, before I started ignoring you—We were—“

You had been acting a bit more than what friends are supposed to act like. And a wedding always brings romance in everything so it was hard.

You cleared your throat, “It makes it weirder if we both walk away from the other.”

Tom bit his lip, “is it, really?” He watched you carefully. “Because, y/n, I—I’ve been… jealous, how they solved it. And how we couldn’t, after we both tried it was so hard, how we kept falling back.”

You had been slightly jealous, too.

“And, really, I—look, I love my brother and Emma, it’s not them ,” he continued, he rolled his eyes. “For all I know, we are both bitter because before James’ wedding happened we were both talking about… marriage and all,” Tom continued. “And they basically stole what could have been our wedding.”

So you were going to have that conversation. A conversation you had avoided even before the breakup. How both of you were… in talks. How you were expecting it. How you’d jitter if he ever got on his knee to tie his shoe, how every time you’d be waiting for it.

“We didn’t even get engaged,” you pointed out, in an attempt to be cynical, probably.

He coughed, “We talked about it. Good thing—We didn’t get that far because, well.”

“I think we both thought marrying would salvage us from falling,” you stated. “Or we thought it was the next step.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I think we did,” he admitted. “But I—Back then I really thought, I dunno. I was really about to ask.”

You took a deep breath, “I would’ve said yes,” you said easily, though it hurt to even think about it. Though, you had been prepared to say yes.

“It wouldn’t have been right,” he pointed out. “We would’ve broken up before even getting to plan it.”

He was right. So, so right, because where you were heading wasn’t a wedding, you were heading to an even more hurtful breakup.

The decision had been made acknowledging this. Knowing it would hurt less then. Avoiding a terrible breakup.

“We were on a thin line,” you agreed. “Anything would’ve broken us.”

“I knew we were going through a rough patch but—I think we never realized how rough it was.”

You sighed, “Maybe I fucked up when we came back here, when I decided not to move in.”

Tom took a deep breath, “No, it wasn’t that.”

What was it? What had it been?

“I don’t know where we went wrong,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”

He shook his head, confirming he didn’t either. When asked, neither of you had a reason. It just—happened. Things had been just so rough and hard. Nothing to hold on to.

Though it didn’t make sense, you loved him. And he loved you.

“I think we both expected things to get better by themselves.” Tom played with his fingers and watched the window, staring at the raindrops slipping through it. Sliding easily, without no one stopping them.

“And we grew tired of fighting,” you added, as you stopped at a red light.

“Can't even remember what we were fighting about,” he confessed.

You took a heavy breath in, as the music still played in the background. “About nothing, and about everything. We fought over serious stuff, like whether we wanted to be public or not. A little about Tim and Cherry. And over stupid stuff mostly, yeah mostly over stupid stuff. Like when we were supposed to wake up for certain events or what tie you’d wear for James’ wedding, we fought over you staying at my place too much. We also fought about FaceTime hours, and whether we had to ask if we were available for it or not.”

Tom dedicated his glance back to you, sad, upset and full of regret. “I remember the cereal one.”

You raised your brows, “Yeah, that one was a smashing doors one.”

“Over stupid cereal,” he sighed as he brushed his face. “We were so—“

“Toxic?” You finished his sentence.

He chuckled, “yeah, mostly at the end.”

“The beginning too, I mean,” you shook your head. “I—We had sex to just solve everything. Thomas, we had hatred sex.”

He chuckled. “Well.”

You shrugged, “And that’s how we solved the fights initially.”

“It wasn’t enough at the end,” he added.

“It never was, and that’s—Thats why, although we both said we would talk we just—I think that’s why it didn’t work, at the end we just—grew tired of each other, the spark was gone.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it was the script,” you pointed out. “Everything concerning it.”

Learning he had a lot to do with the fact it was made had made you doubt yourself, the one true accomplishment had come because he had come to the rescue. Although it had been nice it had really started the downfall of your trust.

“No,” he shrugged.

He didn’t want to talk about it. You had had enough talks about the script, over the fact you wrote it and then regretted it. Over filming and the input he had in the movie, how the character had more in depth than before.

Over the fact he had come to your rescue because it hadn’t been good enough. That one specially had been the start of your downfall. Seemed that when you learned about it, you had completely gone mental. Though, it had come from his heart, he didn’t understand why you were angry.

You had always asked him not to ever give a hand with your writing, if you wanted to succeed it would be for your own accomplishments.

Then again, there was also this side that loved he had helped.

Truth is, it hadn’t affected your relationship, but it had affected your own self trust. And if you can’t trust yourself, however will you trust someone else?

Enough talks had been had.

“No,” Tom started. “We were guilty. Both of us, as if we were making it up for past mistakes. I never stopped thinking about what Tim said, and I think that’s why I always tried making it up for all the other times I hurt you. And then you tried making it up for the script, or—Whatever, it was a relationship built up on guilt.”

“Yeah, I think,” you whispered almost not wanting to be heard, “we both had things to learn about ourselves, and forgive ourselves first… and the timing was wrong.”

Tom shrugged, “Isn't it always wrong with us?”

Time was your true enemy. Or maybe it was easier to blame time rather than yourselves. Time was nothing.

It had been you and your pride or your fear, or whatever you came up with now.

However, there was some truth in that statement. Maybe in the past few months it had been time.

When you had told James and Harry you might want to get back together, Tom was dating.

When you were dating, Harry had told you he was thinking about it.

But what about now? Neither of you were dating, you were single and every odd could push you both to be together. Yet…You were not.

How disappointing, you would always think. Such a long story to end up like this.

How disappointing, really.

“No,” he stated, once again. “It’s not time. The problem might be we are the most stupid people to walk on earth.”

“Sounds reasonable,” you said. You nudged him, “look at us now, though, able to talk.”

“I like where we are, yeah,” Tom commented. “I think we are in a good place, we trust each other, we are friends, good friends, we take care, we hang out. We talk. And actually talk.”

You were focusing on the road, mainly, but your heart wanted to say more things. “Yeah.”

“There’s something bothering you,” Tom stared, intrigued.

“I don’t like you avoiding me,” you stated. “I really can’t stand it.”

“I won’t avoid you, then.”

Then, it was quiet. And it didn’t matter, you enjoyed moments of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Both of you had learned that sometimes you just don’t have to say a word.

But you had to, in fear he would feel you were angry at the previous conversation.“It’s not even all songs I like,” you pointed out.

“Hm?”

“The playlist,” you decided you didn’t want to continue that past conversation.

He coughed, “So we are changing the conversation, huh? Well, they are songs that remind me of you but hey!” He nudged you. “Which ones don’t you like?”

So easily changing subjects and getting out a smile.

“I—we can get back to that later,” you turned to him and let out a soft chuckle. “songs that remind you of me?” You smirked, poking his shoulder.

He blushed, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted defeatedly.

You laughed, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What the fuck! It’s supposed to be sweet!” He complained.

You shrugged. “Or creepy.”

“No, it’s not—“

“I’m kidding I’m—more flattered than spooked—“ you admitted. “So why are you playing it?” You poked his cheek this time and he pushed your hand away.

“Because I’ve noticed you always complain about the music so when I play this you don’t!” He explained, annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s merely to keep me quiet,” you snickered, nodding.

Tom was moving his jaw, “Yes, basically.”

You glanced again, mischievously. “Wasn’t it supposed to be sweet?”

“No.”

You reached for his hair. “Tommy.”

“Don’t Tommy me,” he chuckled. “You called me creepy.”

“Yes, I don’t know how to flirt so I bully you, I thought we had that covered,” you snapped without giving it a second thought. Then completely regretting it.

His smirk was wide now, as he laughed maniacally. “Oh so you’re flirting.”

Your turn to blush had come. “No.”

He grinned. “You are.”

But then it was a miracle, a way to avoid this subject completely because it was not the conversation to be having with the current situation. “Shut up.”

“No, you are trying to flirt with me, I won’t shut up!” He mocked you.

“Shut up!”

“No!”

“Thomas! I think that’s Harry!”

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[thefanbasewhore]

Safe Haven.

Summary: [prompt from the list a reblogged “Breath with me yeah? Come on. Breathe. You got it - there you go.” Reader finally convinces Din to let her go come on a bounty after being shot months ago but at the first sign of danger, she realizes she wasn’t ready.

Warning/Content: soo much soft Din, like ya’ll man is in LOVE, blasters, major panic attack, prior injury. Comforting Din is a sweet angel. 

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader

Tag list. || Master list. 

Din’s eyes feel hot, intense even through the shield of beskar that is definitely hiding the way his face pinches, unamused as thick arms fold across his chest. His stance stops you from pulling the laces of your boots tight, dropping your foot from the bunk completely as he walks close, biting the inside of your cheek, knowing exactly what backlash is coming. “I thought we talked about this.”

“It’ been months. I can’t take one more minute in this ship.” His hesitance comes with reasoning, months ago after experiencing the blinding, gut wrenching feeling of loosing the person you love the most, he was paranoid. At one time he used to embrace danger, welcome it with open arms but now he finds himself staying clear of any planet he hears rumors about in cantinas, engages emergency protocols on the ship to secure no one can get in.. but with every growing day, the walls seem to be moving, growing closer and closer until you can’t take it. More as if Din is trying to keep you in. It’s suffocating. 

It’s not his fault, every time his eyes fall to the small welted scar against your lower neck it brings him back to holding his hand against it as blood squirts from the nick, screaming and yelling as droopy eyelids finally close. He knows it’s unfair, he’s selfish but will never, ever see you like that again. Helpless, lifeless in his arms as blood mats his own skin. It happened months ago but the pain if just too fresh.

“Sweetheart you -.”

“Stop.” It’s unamused, chest letting go of a big sigh as you give into his words, not really sure how many more times you can hear them. It’s either along the lines of “I want you safe,” or “Next time baby.” It’s only to put himself at ease, keep peace in the Crest and honestly you don’t quiet understand, you’re healed, left with an ugly scar that still swells, ripped skin binding purple but none the less okay.

There is no escape from it, his willingness to protect the ones he loves until the day he dies and unapologetically will do so, no matter how angry you get with him, scowl and side eye him. You know you shouldn’t be frustrated with him, but can’t help as teeth bite nervously on the fat of your lip, slightly red from the outburst. Starting to turn but not before orange tipped gloves move the loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingers press against the smooth skin of where your jaw and cheek meet, nimbly sliding until his thumb and pointer pinch your chin. It’s gentle, a small amount of pressure applied under the chin to catch what would be the excuse this time, the apology and the cute pet name that makes your knees week. He’s between your legs, the close proximity used to make his words meaningful, but the way his other hand reaches down to your thigh to catch your attention makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.  

It surprises you, with a sharp turn of your head see him tilt his head towards the ramp, a silent but meaningful gesture. It’s sweet, the smile that reaches eyes, crinkling as you meet his eyes with joyous bulbs. “Really?”

With one singular nod, you’re slipping past him. The smell of outside is so breath taking, of course Din didn’t keep you locked in here, you were allowed outside but never too far from the crest but this, this adventure was what made all those months of being here all by yourself while Din sought bounty after bounty worth it. It’s like a baby foul learning to walk, free and spreading your legs away from the metal piece of junk. It was so close, the tree line visible, a thick fog sits on the outskirts of it, the smell dewy and grassy - you’re almost there, a few more steps and you’ll feel the grass squish under boots but not before Din is pulling you back into the crest with a hand that finds your bicep.

“Din!” You whine but the Mandalorian doesn’t seem to care much, only sits you down in the exact spot as before with a huff. His sinks to his knees, orange fingertips mixing with the black lace of the boots you neglected to tie before, when he’s done he presses his hand to his own knee, staring right back at your own reflection as he tilts his head.

“I have some rules.” You huff back, arms stretch across your chest, noticing the way the swells of your breast pushing up momentarily freeze the Mandalorian in front of you but he breaks his gaze, stern as ever. “If anything goes wrong you come right back here.”

There’s something be pressed against your lower thigh as he lays the heavy blaster down onto your lap, urging it forward to take but not before switching the safety on. “Only for emergencies, I do the shooting if need be. This is the safety sw -.”

“I know what the safety switch is, Din.” Clearly unamused as his fingers tighten around your knee cap as he rolls his eyes but that soon changes as he slides his hand down the outside of your thigh, giving it a small squeeze. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise, there’s no need to worry.”

“I have every reason to be worried.” Din argues as your hand slips over his own squeezing it reassuringly your other hand finds the bare patch of skin between where the his helmet and tunic separate to twirl the soft ends of his hair with fingertips. His own reaching up the feel the puffiness of the scar on your neck, a reminder to what is really at stake here. 

“It won’t happen again.”

Din wants to believe that, wants to trust that he can be enough to protect you but it’s hard when he still sees it in his dreams, feels the blood beneath his fingers and remembers just how lifeless you looked that day.  “You don’t know that..”

Before anymore words can be said, anymore thoughts can creep up and make him change his mind small hands lift the helmet, just enough to reveal his moustache and press a soft, meaningful kiss against his lips. It’s unexpected, mouth open for the majority of the kiss but meeting yours at the last second, it’s almost painful to not experience what was intended.  “I’ll be fine, my love.”

He does not like it, not one bit. Din is not a soft man. He’s kind, cares a little too much about those he loves. He’s passionate, fun, smart and kind but in moments like these he feels like slipping out of the beskar for good, leaving it all behind to spent everyday like this, so wrapped up in each other that the world is forgotten but the red flashing that beeps from his belt reminds him it’s not possible. 

A man of few words as he stands, towers over your sitting figure but none the less extends a hand towards you, gladly accepting his offer as he feels your finger fill the gaps between his own as he pulls you along. The first step of freedom is a relief, a small sigh falling from your lips but the burning gaze you felt has you turning you head to meet his own but he doesn’t say anything, not even when your eyebrows raise in question. 

“Come on pretty girl, not much longer it will be dark.”

***

The Mandalorian is patient with you, allowing small detours only because of how beautiful the planet really is. The vibrant oranges and mixes of purple flowers catch your attention more then he would like but watch your smile and pull him towards the direction of the fields is so serene he can’t even remind the task at hand, all of it seems to disappear, the thought is how pretty your skin looks when the sun touches it, how light your eyes shin against the sun, wants to count every little crystal inside your deep orbs. 

The fob does that, it beeps but you don’t seem to care as your fingers press against the hard cracks of the tree, feeling the growth of decades under finger tips, taking a deep breath with an even bigger smile as the small animal hops towards your direction but the sound of heavy boots at your every turn, so close behind you he’s practically attached at the hip scare it away. 

“The bunny!” You frown, creating as much distance as possible between the Mandalorian in hopes that the white, fluffy animal will come back. 

A hand tugs on your own, turning to face the source but he doesn't move, sinks his fingers deeper into your skin, bringing you forward until he's almost pressed chest to chest with you. "What is it Din?”

"Nothing.." It’s vague, almost awkward until he’s reaching forward, flushing his metal covered forehead against your own, the cool of the beskar feels nice compared to the sun that taunts your skin. His voice falters, unsure as word slip from past his lips. “It’s not too late to go back, we can go a different day.”

“Why for you can just leave in the middle of the night without me?” You can’t see his expression but by the way his shoulders drop, head slightly tilts to avoid has you almost feeling guilty.

He doesn’t ask again, presses soft gloves to squeeze your waist, it’s gentle and fast, just enough to let you know he understands, that he’s sorry for even asking before facing the opposite direction but this time he doesn’t give you the chance to explore or look, he continues on, tugging you by your hand if you in any way get distracted by the pretty flowers and small animals. 

When you do finally arrive at where the bounty is supposedly hiding you look at Din with raised eyebrows, as he crouches down next to you, hidden by the tree line. He would answer but the bright, flashing red gives it away. By the look of this place, it’s empty, an old run down town that is clearly owned by the forest. The trees have started to grow around it, leafy vines cover the bricks, a thick layer of moss that hasn’t been touched in years. All the windows are busted, either by the trees that grew into them or the many years of abandonment. The soft breeze howls through the edges of broken glass, it’s a little off putting, the haunting feel that seeps into the pits of your stomach, nervous but the silence is eerie, it’s too quiet, something isn’t right. The boarded doors with a exception of a few split down the middle were pale in color due to ears of weathering. 

“Stay behind me.” Before the words can even touch your ears he’s leaving the camouflage of the trees making you stumble behind until you reach the center of the lonely town, you’re not even in three feet of him when he suddenly stops. Catching you off guard, walking right into his towering figure with a small huff as you face plant into his backplate. 

“Why did -.” The words don’t even make it out before his gloves press against your mouth, muffling the soft noise you make upon impact. His eyes search around the rattling building as another gush of wind raised goosebumps against your bare arms. Ears alert, seeking the crunching of dirt from the heavy, unexperienced shoes that didn’t belong to you. 

“What is it?” You mange to mumble as his hand starts to loosen but at that exact moment something hits the ground with such force it has both you and the Mandalorian’s heart jumping. 

“Shh!” But it’s too late, the red shot that whips past you comes before the loud echoing that burns your ears. It comes from the opposite tree line you hid behind but now seems miles away as the danger of blasters shooting past you. It’s almost instant as the Mandalorian tucks you into his chest, shielding you from the same direction as he pulls the blaster from the holster, extending it but there’s no one there. His arms stays wrapped around your shoulder, cheek against the cuirass as you squeeze your eyes shut but the other presses into the side of the helmet activating the heat sensors but it’s not until he’s pushing against your back urging you to the nearest building that you realize how dire the situation is.

“Go run!” It’s too late, rays from blasters hit the ground, dirt gathering in a cloud around you, burning your nose, eyes watering from irritation but allows for just enough cover to run, seeking protection into one of the eerie homes. The blasters follow in your and Din’s direction, hundreds of round miss instead they char the ground black and poke through the thin walls of the safe house as Din shoves you inside the threshold of it, flipping an old table over to use it as protection. Din never falters, using his own body to shield yours by pressing his back against the underside of the table, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist.

It’s suffocating but that’s not the reason your chest is burning or the fact that you ran so fast that even Din himself would be impressed. It’s the same reason to room spins, eyes blurring as something heavy crushes your chest, throat closing with squeezed eyes. You can’t think, can’t function properly only pushing away by placing two hands against his chest plate and pushing with all the strength you can manage as the blasters stop. Your own hands find your chest, trying to sooth the burn through the shirt, wild eyes filled with panic meet Din’s which are as equally concerned. 

He’s right there but so far away as you let out a panicked breath, a small wheeze whistles through your nose as your throat begins to close, spits sitting at the back of your mouth as you panic, unable to swallow, unable to move but like always he keeps you grounded. Large hands take your wrist, pressing them against his chest as he sits up on his knees to hold you from falling to the floor. Sliding down to gentle grasp your elbow, the other hand rubbing against your back with slow, precise movements. 

“Breath with me yeah? Come on -” Feeling his own chest slow under your palms to match a more appropriate rhythm for you to follow. The hand moves under your shirt, the bare skin of his hand with the glove thrown lazily onto the floor with more pressing matters at hand.  “You got it - there you go, that’s it.”

It’s frustrating, makes tears sting against your waterline as a choked breath finally expands your chest and makes Din release a soft sigh of relief. His fingers never leave the comfort of your skin, just pull you closer as another warning shot fires outside the building. It’s barely the time but he asks anyways. “You okay?”

Hands tremble against his chest but nod unsurely, hoping to convince him it really wasn’t that bad. False pain makes your neck throb, the scar tingle with the memory of searing pain, hot blood that rushed down your skin, the lightheadness that fell over you that day. There isn’t much time to believe you so instead he pushes himself up from the floor, hand never leaving yours as he drags you along the house. It looks worse inside, walls bare, wires pulled from behind them, the ceiling caved down and scattering the floor in some places but somehow you still manage as he pulls you into the kitchen. The back door is slightly open, the tree line is only feet away, there is no backyard just woods that seem to run for miles and an urging hand walking you towards the direction on the small of your back. 

“Go to the Crest, use the gun if you have to but I only heard one set of boots. He must have a machine gun. I’ll be there.” While is tone is stern, doesn’t leave room for argument you can’t help it.

“What about you?”

“I’ll distract him, just go!” 

***

While it was difficult to find the crest as you ripped through the thick ropes of the forest with watering eyes that impaired your sight, your feet never stopped moving through the thick foliage until they once again press into the comfort of the Crest but even there you couldn’t seem to catch your breath.

Hot tears rush down your cheeks as you lean against the create in the cargo bay, sliding down the length of it until you plop against the floor and pull your knees to your chest. You’re not sure how much time passes, but when the wetness of cheeks start to dry you begin to worry but can’t seem to move, glued to the floor while hysteria pulses against your neck, fingers reach to rub the rigged scar with a soft huff. 

You barely notice the boots that rub your shins, too stuck in your head as you look up to meet the Mandalorian’s tilted gaze. He sighs as he finds himself next to you, sharing the same create for support as he sits shoulder to shoulder with you. He doesn’t say anything like you expect him to, just offers his presence as comfort as his hand squeezes your own.

“You were right.” The barrier of silence finally breaks, head falling to his shoulder for support, for warmth, actually for any kind of comfort he brings. “I wasn’t ready, I heard the blasters and just, lost it.”

“You don’t have to say anything, it’s okay.”

“No, you were right. You always are. All the pain from that night came back, I...I felt like I was dying again.” Smooth fingers glide down your waist, squeezing gently as he pushing you onto his lap, helmet falling to the ground with little care as he urges your face into his neck. The smell of cleanness, his soap fills your entire being as his still bare hand finds it’s way under your shirt running soft, lazy patterns on the curvature of your spine.

Uncharacteristically, lips press against your own. Soft, gentle, filled with so many words he doesn’t know how to say instead he shows you, tilting his head for the bridge of his nose bumps your own, it’s lingering, savoring every minute against them. Foreheads pressed together as he murmurs against them, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise, sweet girl.”

For a second your mind stills, just feeling the fanning breath from his nose blow hot air against your lips. Just to press forward to feel the tickle of his moustache as his pout meets yours once again. Those lips are a safe haven and at this very moment have you trembling for security. 

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