#Yeah anyway this guy would be unbearable to be in a car with

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

(pre-relationship) Frank Langdon x Reader idea:

These two don't know yet that they like each other yet -- "I only got [Reader/Frank] a pack of sour gummy worms because they haven't eaten yet, their blood sugar is probably low and I wanted to be nice" "What do you mean 'it's weird that I gave [Reader/Frank] a long hug'? They just lost a patient, they needed the comfort" "I'm asking [Reader/Frank] all these in-depth questions because I'm their friend, it's normal for friends to want to know more about each other" etc. etc. etc. Just to set the scene. It's unbearably obvious to everyone else, but not to them.

Anyways. They're at that stage of their (inevitable) relationship. And here comes a patient -- some smarmy dude who thinks he's charismatic, but is really just a creep -- who needs a truly impressive number stitches (or a thousand pieces of gravel that needs to be picked out one by one). Reader gets stuck having to care for this guy, and he's just making it a miserable time for Reader. Reader feels trapped, not sure if they could stop and get someone else to help out instead, when Frank steps in and freaks out a little on this guy (nothing bad, but definitely not professional lmao).

Later, Dana (who's scolding Frank for his unprofessional behavior) tells him "dude. Would you even be reacting that strongly if you didn't have feelings for Reader?" Boom -- Frank's sudden epiphany that oh, maybe I do like Reader.

(Meanwhile Kiara is checking in on Reader, and due to their conversation Reader also realizes oh, maybe I do like Frank.)

Hold Up

main masterlist | the pitt masterlist

summary: you and frank realize you have feelings for each other 

pairing: dr. frank langdon x female reader

rating: R for language, pitt level heavyness

word count: 1.2k

warnings: death of a child, man being creepy toward reader, that's it i think 

author’s note: i absolutely love this idea anon, and i hope i did it justice <3

“How many hours left in this shift?” Langdon sighed and leaned next to you against the front desk.

You checked your watch; “Four hours and twenty-seven minutes,” you answered his question.

“So excited to get the fuck outta here,” he said.

“What’re you doing after work?”

“Nothing much; just me, my dog, my TV, and take out.”

“Ah, sounds like a dream, Langdon,” you said.

“Oh, it is, for sure,” he laughed. “I noticed you haven’t eaten in a while, so I got you these from the vending machine and the food cart.” He handed you a sandwich and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“My favorite! Thanks, Langdon,” you exclaimed.

“Anytime,” he replied and got right back to work.

Robby noticed the little interaction and furrowed his brows as he watched you head to the break room for a quick lunch.

“What was that about?” he asked Langdon, walking up next to him.

“Y/n hadn’t eaten yet today,” Frank replied nonchalantly. “Her blood sugar’s probably low, I was just being nice.”

“So you bought her candy?”

“I knew she wouldn’t bother eating unless I lured her in with sour gummy worms,” Frank chuckled. “Smart, right?”

“Uh… yeah. How’d you know she likes sour gummy worms?”

“Everybody does.” Frank shrugged before being called to help a patient.

“No, they don’t,” Robby mumbled to himself.

**

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” you told him. You reached out and held his hand in yours as you repeated the words. “This was not your fault.”

“I know,” he said, but you knew he didn’t believe himself. Frank had just lost a patient, a ten-year-old car accident victim.

You asked if he wanted a hug, and he replied by wrapping his arms around you. You returned the gesture and squeezed him tightly.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you said again.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

After a minute or two, he pulled away from the hug. He thanked you again before he went to help another patient.

“What was that about?” Dana asked you, her brows furrowed.

“What was what about?” you asked half-heartedly, looking up at the screens to pick out a patient.

“Why were you hugging Langdon for so long?” she asked.

“Oh, he lost a patient,” you replied.

“So you had to hug him for that long?” she chuckled a little. 

“He needed the comfort.” You shrugged. “Ooh, nose job gone wrong? I’ll take that one,” you said and went to go grab the patient.

“These two, I swear,” Dana scoffed with a laugh, shaking her head with amusement.

**

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?” Frank asked you.

“Ooh, that’s a tough one. I’ll get back to you on that,” you said before being whisked away to help a patient. 

“What’s up with you and Langdon?” Samira asked. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, focused on the patient and not fully paying attention to Dr. Mohan.

“Why are you and Langdon going back and forth with so many questions?”

“Oh, we’re playing this game where we ask each other a question every time we see each other. It helps pass the time.”

“Huh, strange game…”

“We’re friends,” you started, still fully focused on the patient, “we just want to get to know each other better.”

**

There was one patient no one wanted to take because they’d met him before, and all he did was hit on the women working there the whole time. You reluctantly took him as your patient (without Langdon knowing), and you had begun to despise him. His rude comments and gestures were only getting worse.

“C’mon, sweetheart; you, me, a bottle of wine at my place? Whaddaya say?” He smirked and reached out to touch you.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Frank exclaimed, much louder than he intended, and gained the attention of everyone around him. 

“Nothing–” the man started, but Frank cut him off.

“You listen here, Dr. Y/l/n is not here to date you, and by the looks of it, she doesn’t want to be here at all. Now you are gonna man up and take a ‘no’ like a normal person, or I will escort you out myself.” Langdon stood there, fuming mad. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the man gulped.

“Yes, doctor,” Langdon corrected.

“Yes, doctor,” the man replied.

“Is everything okay in here?” Robby poked his head in. 

“Everything’s fine,” Langdon said.

**

Kiara wanted to talk with you briefly after the incident, although you told her you were fine.

“I’m sure you were happy when Dr. Langdon came to your rescue,” she remarked.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend,” you said.

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you about that. You know you’re allowed to date your coworkers, right?”

“Are you asking me out?” you teased.

“I meant,” she laughed a little, “you and Langdon.”

“Oh, we’re just friends.” You furrowed your brows.

“Sure,” Kiara said. She said something else before she left, but you weren’t really listening.

Hold up… did you like Langdon?

Meanwhile, Dana was busy scolding Frank for his behavior with the patient.

“Come on, Dana, you know I was doing the right thing, standing up to that guy,” Langdon scoffed.

“We all know how annoying that man is, but you can’t threaten a patient!” Dana exclaimed.

“I was only doing what no one else had the guts to do,” he replied. “Ask anyone, they wanted to do the same thing!”

“Come on, Langdon, you’d only be reacting like this if you had feelings for Dr. Y/l/n!”

“I–” Frank stopped. Hold up… he did have feelings for you, strong feelings. “I don’t have feelings for her?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Dana said in a playfully condescending tone before she turned to walk away.

“We’re just friends!” he called out after her.

“Well, your ‘friend’ is in the breakroom if you wanna go talk to her,” Dana said, using air quotes as she continued to walk away.

“Shit,” Langdon mumbled to himself. 

“Go,” Robby said to him.

“Huh?”

“Go talk to her, I’ll cover your patients.”

“Thank you.”

**

“So… that was something,” Langdon said, as he walked into the breakroom and found you staring at the vending machine. 

“There are no sour gummy worms in this vending machine,” you pondered out loud, wondering where Langdon had gotten the bag from earlier.

“No, but the one on the second floor has them.”

“You went all the way to the second floor just to make sure I ate something?” you asked.

“Yeah.” Langdon stood in front of you. “There’s a lot I’d do for you.”

“Really?”

“I think I have feelings for you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

“I think it’s exactly what I wanna hear, Frank,” you admitted. “I think I have feelings for you, too.”

“So… what do we do now?”

“You could kiss me, if you wanna.”

His face lit up before he leaned down and kissed you deeply. His hands went to your hips as yours went to his cheeks. You stayed locked in the passionate kiss for what felt like hours before you both broke away.

“I think you might be my best friend,” Langdon whispered, making you smile widely.

“I think you might be my best friend, too, Langdon.”

[undersugarnights]

A Flower Bud In Concrete

✦ MDNI — 18+ Only ✦

✧ pairing: ashton irwin x hemmings!reader

✧ summary: a surprising reaction to a negative pregnancy test has you and ashton discovering some new kinks.

✧ warnings: absolute filth be warned, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, slight oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, hair pulling, choking, mentions of COVID-19

✧ word count: 5.9k

✧ title: more — by Halsey

✧ author’s note: LAWD it’s about damn fucking time i write for ashton. the things i would let him do to me YOU DON’T GET IT. anyway this is absolutely the filthiest thing i have ever written and i love it. huge thank you to a special someone for helping me out with this — your filthy brain never ceases to amaze me. hope you guys enjoy some filthy quarantine (post?) smut with black haired ashton because i loved writing it.

also, this was inspired by @souperbloom and their AMAZING ashton blurb “island time” which you NEED to read.

Copyright © 2025 undersugarnights. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The word messy didn’t even begin to describe your life. It was almost comical, the way everything had derailed so quickly—like the universe had yanked the rug out from under you, leaving you to scramble in the aftermath.

Your mind spun as you sat in your car, staring at the unopened test on the passenger seat. The small box seemed to glare back at you, taunting you with the weight of fear it carried. Just looking at it made your stomach churn, flashes of a future you didn’t dare let yourself imagine creeping into your thoughts. You shoved them away just as quickly, refusing to let yourself hope for something that felt so far out of reach.

Your phone sat untouched on your lap, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should have been. You hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, but the thought of what you were about to do made you want to retreat into the safety of your car forever. With shaky hands, you picked it up, your fingers hovering over the screen before you numbly dialed the number you dreaded.

Ashton, of course, didn’t take long to answer. He picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful as always. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, the smile in his tone almost palpable. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. You coming over? ‘Cause if so, I should probably clean—”

“You don’t have to clean up anything,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended as you bit down on your bottom lip. You stared at your lap, the words you needed to say catching in your throat. Finally, you forced them out. “I have a test… I’m late. And, uh, I figured I should be with you when I figure out why.”

The other end of the line went silent, the lack of response from Ashton tightening the knot of stress already coiled in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, waiting, the quiet stretching unbearably.

“Does Luke know?” he asked at last, clearing his throat as if trying to sound casual.

You shut your eyes, frustration flaring at the mention of your little brother. “Why the hell would he know if he has no idea about us?”

“Right, right,” Ashton groaned, his tone sheepish. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “Okay, well… I’ll see you soon, alright? You’ll take the test, and we’ll figure it out from there. Just like we always do.”

His voice was so kind, so gentle and reassuring that you could almost cry. “Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper as you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he reassured, the nickname falling off his lips without any hesitation. It sounded almost natural, and it definitely made your stomach tighten. “Everything will be fine.”

You frowned, looking out your window and taking in the relatively sunny day. “Yeah, I guess so,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

Ashton shifted in the other line. “Drive safe.”

The call hung up with a soft click after that, leaving you once again in anxious silence. You threw your head back against the seat, letting out a long, defeated sigh as your hands came up to grip the wheel.

You first met Ashton when he was just a scrawny kid with hair that swooped over his eyes—your little brother’s annoying friend. Despite being only a year older than him, his friendship with Luke made him feel much younger in your eyes.

When your acting career started taking off, you didn’t give Ashton—or anyone else from those days—much thought. At least, not until their cute little YouTube covers got discovered and their band skyrocketed to fame. Thanks to your close relationship with Luke, you began seeing more of his bandmates.

Ashton always lingered a little closer than the others, his nervous energy unmistakable. The rest of the boys treated you like their older sister—occasionally annoying, but familiar and comfortable. It was obvious Ashton’s feelings were different, but you never dwelled on it.

Not when you met Daniel. He was everything you thought you wanted—kind, charming, and effortlessly sweet. You’d been hesitant at first, unsure if your feelings would match his, but he quickly swept you off your feet.

For nearly five years, the two of you were happy together. Everyone in your life adored him—even Jack, who could be overbearing at times, warmed to him easily.

He was everything to you, his smile brighter than the sun itself. Daniel had shown you a new side of life, filling it with warmth and the promise of forever. But promises are fragile things, and eventually, he broke his—leaving you shattered and alone to gather the pieces of your broken heart.

As if that wasn’t enough, the world began to crumble around you. Whispers of a new illness dominated every conversation, and soon enough, isolation became your reality. Alone in your home, with no one for company but your own thoughts, you struggled to hold on. Work had slowed to a crawl, and seeing friends was too risky.

Ashton had always been the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation. His compassion extended to everyone in his orbit, always checking in to make sure they were okay. So when your phone lit up with his call, something inside you broke.

You poured your heart out, tears spilling as he listened to every word of your pain. He let you cry, soothing you with soft words and a patient ear. You felt terrible about it—he’d only been calling to check in out of kindness, not to become a makeshift therapist.

You apologized over and over, feeling guilty for taking up his time, insisting that what you really needed was professional help. But Ashton wouldn’t hear of it. He reassured you, his voice firm yet gentle, that it was no trouble at all. “I’m happy to listen,” he said. And you believed him.

That’s how it started—a strange kind of pen-pal relationship born out of quarantine. It became rare for you not to be on the phone with Ashton. What began as conversations about Daniel and your heartbreak gradually turned into something lighter. You talked about life, movies you’d seen, and the places you’d go when the world opened up again.

One night, during one of your usual calls, Ashton said something that made your breath hitch. His voice, normally so confident, was uncharacteristically shy.

“Yeah, so… basically,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “I only called you. At first, anyway. I was bored out of my mind, sitting in the house with nothing to do. And—I don’t know—I just found myself dialing your number. I’m glad I did.”

That confession had shifted something inside you. Ashton—who had always just been Ashton—suddenly became something else entirely. You started noticing the little things: the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, how a stray black curl would occasionally fall over his face, or the intense focus in his eyes when he drummed.

When restrictions eased, your friendship transitioned from FaceTime calls to in-person hangouts. Being around Ashton felt surprisingly effortless. He had a way of calming your nerves with a joke or a warm smile, and sometimes, you couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.

One night, the two of you got carried away, talking late into the night.

“Shit,” you groaned, glancing at the time on your phone. “It’s so late.”

Ashton just smiled, shifting closer to you on the sofa. His eyes were red from the blunt you’d shared earlier, but they still sparkled with that familiar brightness. “So stay,” he said casually. “I don’t see why you should go.”

The thought of returning to your lonely house made your stomach sink. Staying with Ashton, basking in the warmth of his company, felt like the only right choice. But one thing was clear: if you stayed, if your eyes kept flicking to his lips, you would do something you might regret.

And you told him that.

Maybe it was the weed loosening your tongue, or maybe it was the way Ashton looked so unfairly good in his old muscle tee and shorts, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

To your surprise, Ashton’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “What if I want you to?” he murmured, leaning impossibly closer. His hand lifted to your face, his fingers lightly tracing along your jaw and down your neck. His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race.

So you gave into your innermost desires and kissed him. And he kissed you back.

The next thing you knew, you were a tangle of limbs on the carpet, the crackling fire casting shadows of your moving bodies across the room as muffled moans filled the space.

That’s how it started—how your unconventional relationship began. You’d made it clear from the beginning that you wanted to take things slow, unsure if moving on from Daniel so soon was the right decision. You and Ashton agreed to keep things casual for now, just hooking up and seeing where it led.

Another mutual decision was to keep your arrangement private—especially from Luke. Your little brother had always been harmless, and you weren’t worried he’d be angry about your relationship with Ashton. But you didn’t want to get his hopes up either. Luke would’ve been over the moon if he found out his best friend and his sister were together, so until you both were certain about where this was headed, Luke would remain in the dark.

For a few months, it worked seamlessly. Life had started to regain a semblance of normalcy as the year drew to a close. That was until your period decided to throw you a curveball.

The drive to Ashton’s place was filled with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you pulled up to his house, your hands were clammy from gripping the steering wheel, and the box of pregnancy tests in your lap felt heavier than it should.

You rang the doorbell, clutching the box tightly as if it were a lifeline. Ashton took a few seconds to answer, but when he opened the door, his warm smile melted a fraction of your fear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, pulling you in by the waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His easy affection steadied you, if only for a moment.

“Hey, Ash,” you murmured, your voice barely audible against his lips. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze, searching for any sign of unease or irritation. All you found was concern and affection in his hazel eyes.

Ashton frowned, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone, and he gave you that signature reassuring smile. “Go take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay there, wrapped in the safety of his arms, wishing you could freeze time and keep the weight of reality at bay.

But you couldn’t hide forever. Reluctantly, you pulled back, giving him a weak, trembling smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Y/N,” Ashton replied with a small nod, his voice steady as he let you go.

With your heart pounding, you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You avoided your reflection in the mirror, unwilling to face the physical manifestation of your nerves.

Hands shaking, you unwrapped the first test and let out a deep, uneven sigh. The whole thing felt absurdly humiliating—peeing on a stick to determine the course of your future. In another situation, you might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

But this wasn’t that kind of moment.

You capped the test and placed it on the sink, refusing to look at it as the seconds ticked by and the result formed. There was no use in dwelling on it, or stalling the results, so with a deep breath, you reached out and shakily grabbed the test.

Not pregnant.

The words were blunt and stark, staring back at you with an unrelenting certainty. Yet, a sudden surge of denial hit you. That couldn’t be possible, could it?

You had expected relief to come with those two words, but it didn’t. Instead, tears pricked at your eyes, and you slumped onto the closed toilet seat, unable to tear your gaze away from the test in your trembling hand.

How insane did you have to be to feel sad over a negative pregnancy test? The thought rattled in your mind as a quiet sob escaped your lips.

You had always wanted kids—or at least one. The idea of becoming a mother had been a dream you carried for as long as you could remember. It was a dream that had, in part, torn your relationship with Daniel to shreds. He had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want kids, especially not when you and he had faced a similar predicament.

But you did. You wanted one with everything in you.

Your chest tightened as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to push away the ache clawing at your heart. Maybe it was for the best, you told yourself. After all, you and Ashton hadn’t even defined the status of your relationship. You hadn’t dared to dream of having that kind of conversation, let alone one about kids.

Still, the weight of disappointment was unbearable as you wiped your face and mustered the strength to walk out of the bathroom. Ashton was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nervously biting his nails.

His gaze snapped to you the moment you appeared, his body straightening as he pushed off the wall. He looked tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands fidgeting.

“Well?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly with the anxiety he was trying to mask.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep any trace of emotion out of your voice. “I’m not pregnant,” you said evenly, squaring your shoulders as you met his eyes.

For a moment, Ashton’s expression softened, something flickering across his face that you couldn’t quite place. But then, to your utter surprise, you caught a glimpse of disappointment.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, your protective wall snapping into place.

“Let’s have a kid,” Ashton breathed, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t thought twice. His eyes locked onto yours, wide and earnest, his tone full of sincerity.

You drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. There was no way he could possibly mean it.

“Ashton,” you said incredulously, your tone laced with disbelief, “we just lost our shit thinking I might be pregnant. And besides”—your voice rose slightly as your confusion gave way to frustration—“we’re not even together. Not really.”

Ashton shook his head, closing the distance between you in a few determined strides. His hands cupped your face, his breath warm and slightly uneven. “We are now,” he murmured, an excited gleam lighting up his hazel eyes. “So let’s have a kid. You and me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in stunned disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Who in their right mind would randomly decide to have a baby on a whim—especially with someone they were just casually hooking up with?

But then again, there had never been anything truly casual about you and Ashton. Not the way his touch lingered, how his kisses felt like promises, or how his presence made everything seem softer, lighter, easier. It had always been more than either of you admitted aloud.

His gaze stayed locked on yours, wide and earnest, as if begging you to say yes.

“You were freaking out,” you whispered, though the fight had already left your voice. Deep down, you were searching for any sign that Ashton might back out of this sudden decision, that he might have second thoughts.

Instead, he just shrugged, his lips curving into a soft, hopeful smile. “I was,” he admitted. “But then I started thinking—I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will. And even though this isn’t the most conventional way, I’d love to make something real with you. And that something?” His voice dropped, full of quiet conviction. “It definitely involves a baby.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your brows furrowing as you tried to process his words. Who in their right mind would agree to this?

Apparently, that someone was you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but steady, a spark of excitement rising to the surface and chasing away your fear. “Let’s have a baby.”

Ashton’s face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a triumphant whoop, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you in the air. Laughter bubbled out of you, breathless and giddy, as the weight of uncertainty slipped away, replaced by something far more exhilarating.

“I love you too,” you mumbled breathlessly as Ashton set you down gently. You were still giddy, your mind flashing with images of your possible new future. Your hands came up to Ashton’s shoulders, watching him.

His hands lingered at your waist for a second, his eyes softening even more. His smile was radiant, lighting up the room, and he looked almost boyish. Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you breathed, nervous laughter bubbling up inside you. “We’re really going to do this?”

Ashton laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed, his voice sure and steady. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb briefly brushing over your bottom lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

A faint blush krept up your cheeks, the words lighting a fire inside you that was almost surprising in its intensity. You should have been scared, after all, your life was going to forever be altered, but it was exhilarating.

”What now?” you asked softly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Ashton's hair. The jet-black color suited him far more than you wanted to admit, and the sight of him like this-confident, certain, and utterly yours-sent a thrill down your spine. “Where do we even start?”

Ashton's eyes darkened, his lips curving into a devilish smirk as his gaze locked with yours. “We start by making that baby, of course,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. The playful elation in his tone had shifted, replaced by something deeper, more primal.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, and you swallowed hard, excitement and nerves dancing in your chest.

Ashton didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was demanding and all-consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you flush against him as his lips moved against yours with practiced skill. You melted into his touch, your hands threading into his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him.

Ashton coaxed your lips open with teasing nips and soft bites, his tongue sweeping over yours, tasting you like he couldn't get enough. A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him lift you effortlessly, his grip firm but careful as he carried you through the room.

The world tilted slightly, and before you could process where he was taking you, your back met the cool surface of the kitchen counter. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, smirking as your eyes met his. “The kitchen, Ash? Can't even wait until the bedroom?”

“Too far,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. “Need you now.”

Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Your jaw dropped as you looked down to see your shirt now hanging in shreds, the pieces slipping from your shoulders. “Ashton!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You ripped my shirt!”

He pulled back briefly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “It was mine first,” he said nonchalantly, his mouth returning to your neck to leave a trail of kisses. “You can steal another one later.”

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a sharp gasp when his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch. His hands roamed your body freely, sliding up your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease.

When his calloused hands cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze, a soft groan escaped your lips. Ashton took it as encouragement, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth followed soon after, trailing hot kisses down your chest before capturing your nipple between his lips.

Your head fell back as he gently nipped at it with his teeth, a moan spilling from you.

Meanwhile, his other hand began its slow descent down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “God, you're gonna look so pretty, all full of my cum,” he growled against your skin, tugging the fabric of your shorts down your legs.

Ashton's mouth continued its heated journey down your body, every inch of you humming with anticipation. The thought of him finishing inside you sent a thrill through you that you couldn't deny, and as he kissed along your stomach, pausing at your hip bone, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

When he looked up, his hazel eyes were dark and glassy with lust. His teeth caught the edge of your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp as he began to pull them down, agonizingly slow.

Ashton let your underwear fall to the floor, his hands gentle as he spread your thighs apart. His lips parted slightly as he took in the sight of you, laid out on the kitchen counter, wet and glistening just for him. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, quickly yanking off his sweater and tossing it somewhere in the room without a second thought.

His hands slid up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch sending shivers through your body. He traced a single finger along your folds, biting his lip as he collected your arousal. “You're so pretty for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “Such a pretty pussy.”

When his finger slipped inside you, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and your back arched off the counter instinctively. Heat flooded through you as he added a second finger, curling them just right, finding that spot inside you with practiced precision. A loud moan spilled from your throat, your body trembling under his touch.

His lips found your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, marking you without hesitation. “Since we're telling everyone we're together now,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your skin, “I'm gonna make sure they know. You're mine.”

“I'm yours,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy as his fingers sped up, your legs shaking with the intensity of it all. If he kept this up, you wouldn't last much longer.

Ashton hummed in satisfaction, his lips curving into a smile against your neck.“That's right, baby. You're mine. Gonna fill you up to the brim, put a baby inside you. Isn't that right, pretty?”

You nodded frantically, tugging at his hair for something to ground yourself. His words only spurred you on, the heat in your core building to a fever pitch. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest. But your words died in your throat when you saw Ashton hastily kicking off his jeans.

When he pulled down his black boxers, freeing himself, your eyes widened. You had been with Ashton countless times, but he had never looked so painfully hard. His cock stood thick and ready, the tip an angry shade of red, glistening with his own arousal.

Before you could fully process the sight before you, Ashton's hands were on your hips, pulling you off the counter. He gave you no chance to protest, spinning you around and bending you over the cold surface.

“You're gonna take all of me,” Ashton growled, his voice low and commanding as he lined himself up with you. “And you're gonna love every second of it. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get my cum.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. “I’ll be a good girl,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Ash. I want you to fill me up. Please.”

A smirk played on his lips as his hand slid around your waist and down between your legs, his fingers expertly teasing your clit.

The sensation sent shockwaves through you, making your knees buckle slightly. Your moans grew louder as Ashton ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the teasing driving you to the brink.

“Beg for it, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance, his fingers working you mercilessly. Every nerve in your body was alight, your need for him consuming every thought.

“Please,” you cried, your voice breaking into a small sob. “I need you, Ash. Fill me up, stretch me out, put a baby in me—please, I'm begging you.”

Ashton groaned low in his throat at your words, his control slipping as he finally pushed into you, slow and deliberate. “That's my good girl,” he rasped, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. “And you're gonna take every single bit of me, aren't you?”

The stretch of Ashton finally filling you up was overwhelming, nearly enough to tip you over the edge instantly. You didn't know how you'd gotten so worked up, but as he buried himself to the hilt, the sensation was so intense tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. Ashton's hand trailed up your back, settling around the back of your neck, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

“Yeah? You like being stretched out like this?” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, his hips unmoving as he stayed buried deep. “You're so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. I'm gonna come so hard for you, so deep.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your frustration building as Ashton still refused to move. His free hand roamed down your body, squeezing your hip before pulling back and landing a sharp slap on your ass.

The sting sent a jolt through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ashton groaned low in his throat, the sound deep and guttural. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he muttered, smirking as he delivered another sharp smack to your ass. This time, the moan that escaped you was loud and unrestrained. “So pretty, bent over a counter for me, taking me so well.”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes squeezed shut, every nerve in your body focused on the feeling of Ashton filling you. “You're so warm,” he groaned, his hips shifting just slightly. “I need to hear you. Every gasp, every moan— want it all. If you hold back from me, baby, you'll regret it. Got it?”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine. His earlier promise not to finish inside you if you misbehaved hung heavy in your mind, the thought alone making your chest tighten with desperation. “Fuck me,” you begged, your voice shaky and whiny. “Please, Ash, just move already.”

Ashton let out a low chuckle, dark and taunting. “So needy, aren't you, sweetheart?” he teased, his words dripping with smug amusement. Before you could respond, he pulled out of you slowly, the sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips.

“Don't whine,” he chided, his tone sharp but playful. “You're gonna take what I give you.”

But mercifully, Ashton seemed to decide your torture had gone on long enough. On his next thrust, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you, the sudden force stealing the air from your lungs. A yelp tore from your throat as his hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly.

Ashton set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with every thrust. The lewd sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with your loud, uncontrollable moans. The delicious friction he created with each movement made your legs shake, the intensity overwhelming.

“That's it, good girl,” Ashton purred, his voice dripping with approval. “You take me so well. Can't wait till you're all round and pretty for me,”he murmured, his thrusts growing harder, more deliberate. “All mine. My perfect little cum slut.”

The possessive tone in his voice made your entire body shudder. His hand tugged at your hair again, pulling you upright and flush against his chest. His other hand slid up to knead your breasts, his fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

One hand slowly slid up to your neck, wrapping around it gently before applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. The dizziness only heightened the pleasure coursing through you, amplifying every sensation.

But Ashton didn't hold for long. His hand eased away, and your hearing slowly returned as you gasped for breath. He released your nipple and pushed you back down onto the counter, his voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair again, using it for leverage as he pounded into you harder.

The heat of his movements, his filthy words, and the way he dominated every inch of your body brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, each pull of his hand in your hair sending a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure rippling through you.

“Baby, I'm close—” you choked out, your voice breaking with need.

“Yeah?” Ashton rasped, his hips never losing their relentless rhythm. One hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and teasing it with quick, precise circles. The intensity made your breath hitch, and he leaned in, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You couldn't hold back. Between his unforgiving thrusts, his dirty words, and the way his fingers worked you with expert precision, the pressure inside you finally snapped. A loud cry tore from your throat as you came, your entire body trembling violently with the force of your release.

Ashton's lips brushed your ear as you shook beneath him. “Just like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers never faltering even as your body slowly began to come down from its high.

“Ashton,” you gasped, your legs trembling uncontrollably. “Fill me up, baby. Please— need your cum.”

His breathing was ragged, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “I'm close, baby,” he groaned, his hand slipping away from your clit to grip your hips tightly. His movements grew sloppy, and he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “I'm gonna come so deep inside you. Gonna fill you up, make you mine, put a baby in you.”

It didn't take long before Ashton's rhythm faltered, and he let out a broken whimper of your name. His body shuddered as he spilled into you, the warmth of him flooding your core just as he'd promised. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, each twitch of his cock making you moan softly.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, completely still except for your heaving breaths. The only sound filling the kitchen was the ragged symphony of your labored gasps. Your body felt boneless, leaning heavily against the counter to stay upright.

Ashton pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blades, his warm breath fanning your damp skin and making you shiver. “You’re gonna look so hot as a mum,” he teased with a lazy smirk, slowly pulling out of you.

You whined at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him leaving you aching. Before you could protest, Ashton turned you around and lifted you onto the counter. The cold marble against your bare skin sent a jolt through your body as he gently spread your legs wide.

His eyes glittered as he took in the sight of his release dripping from your core. “Can't let any of this go to waste,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

With deliberate care, he slid a finger along your sensitive clit, making you gasp sharply. Then, without hesitation, he pushed a finger inside, catching the white ribbons threatening to spill out and gently pressing them back into you.

The overstimulation had your legs shaking again, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him work with hooded eyes. Every touch sent sparks shooting through you, and the satisfaction on his face as he ensured none of his release escaped made you ache for him all over again.

Ashton knelt before you, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint before he leaned in, running a slow, deliberate stripe along your core with his tongue. His movements were unhurried, carefully cleaning you up without disturbing the evidence of his release too much. He only lapped up the small traces that had escaped, trailing down your thighs.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back, the soft sound of his lips parting making you shiver. Rising to his full height, he grinned widely, his expression smug and satisfied. You returned his smile with a lazy one of your own, reaching up to tug him down into a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice tender. “And this was... definitely fun.”

Ashton pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his grin morphing into a playful smirk. “I love you,” he began, his tone laced with mischief, “and about that…”

His hand slipped down between his legs, stroking his still semi-hard cock until it stood at full attention once again. Your breath hitched as you watched him, speechless, as he lined himself up with you once more. With an achingly slow push, he slid back inside you, making both of you groan at the sensation.

Your arms gave out beneath you, leaving you fully leaning against the counter. “Gotta make sure it all stays in there,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and strained. His hips rolled gently, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Give me a few, and we'll go again. Maybe even one more time after that.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the movement causing your walls to flutter around him.

Ashton let out a deep groan at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy but teasing. “We can do this as much as you want.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed u nasty freaks. my requests are closed atm but my inbox is open if you wanna chat :)

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

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

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

[kings-highway]

do you have any umbrella headcanons for the hq characters? like, colors and patterns and where they bought it, who has a million umbrellas but never seems to remember to bring one when it rains, who always keeps one at school, etc. that kinda stuff?

This is actually a way old prompt I simply took forever to answer but like... Yeah I gotchu.

Sugawara: never in his life has owned an umbrella. Bitch is WET half the time. Sprints between cars. Sneaks under other people’s and gets runoff dribbled on his head. Complains constantly about the rain. Could not tell you the last time he opened an umbrella

Asahi: opened an umbrella inside once and is still anxious about it

Daichi: has an umbrella and behaves normally about it. The sight of Asahi panicking because he forgot to bring one and Suga preparing to rawdog the weather is offset by Daichi standing between them and opening his umbrella without any fanfare and then seeming surprised by the chaos that his two friends have unleashed in the .3 seconds since it started raining. It’s probably a solid colour and at least 3 years old.

Tanaka: kinda like Suga but completely intentionally. “Umbrellas are for wimps!” he shouts, soaked and freezing and about to be very sick

Noya: shockingly, actually pretty good about keeping an umbrella around. He probably got one in middle school with like flames on it, and so he makes sure to carry it during the rainy seasons because it’s his only chance to show it off. Also whips it out at every opportunity to offer to walk girls home if they’ve forgotten theirs.

Ennoshita: forgot his umbrella once during a rainstorm and Daichi gave him his to walk home with “because your walk is further than mine anyway” and Ennoshita has never forgiven himself for it. The man keeps an umbrella in his school locker separate from the one he carries to and from home just in case. Dude got given a new flavour of imposter syndrome over the generosity of one guy a year ago.

Yamaguchi: has one of those clear umbrellas. Constantly offering to share umbrellas with tsukki but alas Tsukishima is taller than him so this makes no sense, and Tsukki has never in his life not had an umbrella on him. Often he ends up sharing his umbrella with Hinata instead.

Hinata: theoretically owns an umbrella, he says he does. Ends up ducking under Yamaguchi’s constantly, since he “doesn’t exactly know where his is” at the moment. Can’t figure out why Yamaguchi always seems annoyed by him asking to share his umbrella.

Tsukishima: a well prepared young lad, has had the same umbrella since middle school, it probably has like a moon pattern on it because the bitch likes to brand himself. Is currently trying to decide if he should fake forgetting his umbrella one of these days because it would probably make Yamaguchi happy.

Kageyama: will just walk home in the rain and not notice he’s soaking wet. Honestly I can imagine him shaking himself out like a dog. He once gave an umbrella to a girl and she fell in love with him and confessed on the next valentine's day and he had no idea who she was.

Yachi: got to share Kiyoko's umbrella once and has never been the same since. Her own umbrella is probably very cutsey and pink with stars or something.

Kiyoko: keeps a spare umbrella in her locker in case she forgets because boys become unbearable if they think they can offer to be her saviour. Refuses them and walks in the rain if necessary.

Oikawa: honestly he’s probably a very sensible regular guy who checks the weather and brings an umbrella if he thinks it’s needed, but he probably always has to borrow one from his mother or dig one out of the back of a closet.

Iwa: weirdly thinks that Oikawa is never going to have an umbrella, so he always over prepares, but Oikawa has literally never once been caught in the rain without an umbrella and for whatever reason simply cannot convince Iwa that he knows how to check his weather app. Like it’ll start raining and Iwa will scoff and go “bet you didn’t bring an umbrella, huh?” as Oikawa is pulling out and opening his umbrella and will be like: “????? leave me alone????”

Matsukawa: kinda likes the rain. Sometimes the rest of the Seijoh 4 catch him holding his umbrella to the side to let himself get rained on. Honestly I can see him with like… a kinda gothic umbrella, like probably something really dark with skulls on it, or a spider web pattern, and he unironically really loves it. It’s like an element of self expression that the rest of these jock boys cannot comprehend so they don’t even bother making fun of him for it.

Hanamaki: 9/10 the person who gets Iwa’s second umbrella

Kyotani: would rather die than admit he was cold and/or needed an umbrella after his mother definitely yelled at him to take one that morning and he ignored her

Yahaba: sometimes weaponizes his umbrella to whack people. He’d also use it to flirt with girls who forgot theirs, except one time a girl saw him using it to whack his teammates and rumours spread so now nobody accepts his offers.

Ushijima: okay hot take: I don’t think he owns an umbrella. Live-in dorms aren't conducive to an umbrella, what, he’s gonna open it for the 1 second he’s between buildings? Nah. but I think he’s got sort of a weird dog energy about it, where he’ll be soaked through from walking in the rain, but will in fact have walked instead of running, and will just kind of sit there and let water drip onto his face and honestly I don’t think this is a very fun experience for him but what’s he gonna do, complain about the weather? There’s no point in complaining about the weather, it can't be changed.

Tendou: I can imagine him with - and I’m aware this is very specific - a clean umbrella, with like colourful polka dot confetti. I take no criticisms. He also happily allows any of his teammates to walk under this umbrella if they need to, however this is a trap and they will, actually, have to listen to the entire plot of FullMetal Alchemist in excruciating detail.

Leon: give him a regular ass solid colour umbrella that he loses constantly. It’s the dorms thing! He doesn’t have to use it often! But any time he needs it it takes him 35 minutes to dig up.

Semi: he is like… cool with an umbrella. Like he’s not really actually stopping himself from getting rained on, because it’s tilted back against his shoulder and he’s sauntering along getting soaked, but my god does he look good. Also I imagine his umbrella being striped white and black. But oh boy is he always wet despite having an umbrella.

Goshiki: has an umbrella but stopped using it because he thought the thing Ushijima was doing was some kind of cool-mature-adult thing and now he’s just wet all the time.

Yamagata: will ask if people dare him to run through the rain and then not wait for an answer and do it anyways. Could have an umbrella, maybe he doesn’t, has never been seen using it either way. At least he has fun.

Shirabu: constantly trying to get Semi to use his umbrella normal. Constantly trying to get Leon to put his umbrella in the same place. Constantly trying to convince ushijima to buy an umbrella. Constantly trying to convince goshiki to use his umbrella again and that being wet isn’t cool. Has no idea what the hell yamagata is doing. constantly, desperately, avoiding situations in which he needs to walk under Tendou’s umbrella. Always wondering why the fuck the Shiratorizawa team is so goddamn wet all the time. His umbrella is pink.

Taichi: owns an umbrella. Thinks Shirabu needs to calm the fuck down.

Aone: shares umbrellas constantly with people. He has a really simple one, but he’s really consistent about remembering it, so often he’s the go-to saviour.

Futakuchi: Usually forgets his umbrella and is very thankful Aone never has. Is usually the second person under Aone’s umbrella.

Moniwa: carries two umbrellas around anticipating someone else needing them and will end up giving both of them away and walking home in the rain.

Koganegawa: excitedly walking in the rain beside Moniwa bonding over their wet heads. (he thinks he forgot his umbrella but it’s actually just pushed at the bottom of his bag. He will notice when he gets home and feel SO BAD he didn’t offer it to Moniwa.

Terushima: thinks umbrellas are for wimps and dorks and is always wet. He won't even walk under an umbrella someone else is offering.

Kuroo: black umbrella. Honestly I don’t think he’s very interesting about it. He doesn’t like getting rained on so he tends to be cautious and over prepare.

Kenma: always carries an umbrella if there’s even the slightest chance of it raining. Hates getting rained on. Hates sharing an umbrella with kuroo even more than he hates getting rained on. (Kuroo acts like he’s gods’ gift to umbrellas every time Kenma needs him to share.)

Fukunaga: rainbow umbrella!!! He likes to play in the rain and will get wet even holding an umbrella around his head. Jumping in puddles, splashing. One time he got soaked by a passing car driving through a puddle and has never laughed that hard in his life. This cat likes water.

Tora: usually ends up using Fukunaga’s rainbow umbrella because he forgot his own and fukunaga clearly doesn’t need it.

Lev: “hahaha yeah I have an umbrella…” (he doesn’t) and nobody will share with him. Kuroo just sort of side-eyes him. Yaku walks with an umbrella and doesn’t even pretend to offer. Lev gets wet.

Yaku: I imagine him with like a beige umbrella. He’s super normal about it. Never shares, though (hurts his arm to hold it up so much, but refuses to let someone else hold it for him.)

Inuoka: doesn’t have an umbrella, doesn’t need one. He’s always using his hood as if it’s just as good and saying how it’s redundant to carry around an umbrella even though this soaks his jacket every time.

Bokuto: I think he only owns an umbrella if he can find an owl themed umbrella, otherwise he’s just sorta running and hoping he doesn’t get too wet. (he does.)

Akaashi: if Bokuto has successfully found an owl themed umbrella, Akaashi owns one too. Otherwise, he’s got a very normal solid colour umbrella that he has never used for himself once. Bokuto, Konoha, Sarukai, whoever has forgotten their umbrella currently has Akaashi’s umbrella.

Kita: I think he has a white umbrella, and I think it’s very normally employed in the manner it should be, and I think he’s most often seen using it when he’s gazing off wistfully and making long, contemplative monologues about how rain is often run from despite it being the very essence of life, and how the water cycle heals and washes away bad energy and the state of pollution in the oceans and dear fucking god someone distract him throw a volleyball or something it’s been eighteen minutes he’s still talking.

Aran: I imagine him with one of the like, real fancy umbrellas with a wooden handle and all that (every other mentioned umbrella I was thinking of as a cheap plastic one that pops out) but no this bitch got a real umbrella, probably old from his grandmother or something. He’s also the only one still listening after minute eighteen of Kita’s contemplation on our connection to the divine via the endless cycle of water through our bodies. He’s gonna google the water cycle when he gets home.

Atsumu & Osamu: there is in fact an umbrella between the two of them. It will break before the end of their rainy walk home. They both think it’s their own umbrella, but it’s not, it’s their mother’s umbrella and she will yell at them.

Suna: this guy would rather sleep at school than walk home without an umbrella so you bet your ass that he keeps an umbrella on him. Give him something with a cool geometric design maybe. I also think the only moments of sincerity anyone’s every seen from him is when he’s very quietly and politely asking Kita or Aran to borrow their umbrella if he’s forgotten his.

Sakusa: Yes, he has an umbrella, of course he has an umbrella. I think his umbrella is bright purple, and I think he keeps forgetting how to open it, and then it pops out and scares him and this happens every fucking time. Something’s wrong with this guy. He can also never get it tied up again properly and generally tends to find the thing a hassle.

Komori: Also has a bright purple umbrella but he opens it normally. He has no idea what Sakusa’s problem is.

Korai: has Hirugami’s umbrella from last year.

Hirugami: is just realizing the reason he needed to buy a new umbrella.

[sillyteecup]

It's Always Been About Love And Hate (Now Let Me Say I'm The Biggest Hater): 0.0

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

PROLOGUE

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/cursing

Mentions of trauma

Mention of an anxiety attack

A minor panic attack

Mentions of mental health issues

Alcohol and cannabis use

Smut

Unprotected sex (one condom-one round bathong🧍🏾)

Inebriated decision making

Mention of violence

Age gap (about 9 years)

Word count: 5798🧍🏾‍♀️

Taglist: @rose-bliss @transparentphantomface

A.N: I don't do summaries, but what I can do is ask Alexa to play Bad Decisions by Ariana Grande, because wow !!🧍🏾 Anyway, here's the prologue and the only chapter I can give for the next two weeks because education. Also, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist. I wanna thank you all for staying patient and engaging, and I really hope you guys enjoy this❤️

~Tee❤️

The bass of ‘Little foot’ by Childish Gambino blasted through the heavy speakers in Sloane twins’ apartment, serving as a backing track to the equally loud chatter among Jazz, her twin Zuri, and their visitor, and favorite cousin as she called herself, Andy. Different perfume scents mixed with the pungent smell of the O.G kush the trio had just blown through defined the thick atmosphere in the Atlanta 2-bedroom. Paired with the heater fanned through their air conditioning, it all kept the apartment relatively warm; something that was necessary during the brutal winter air outside that clocked in at about 42°F or 5°C depending on how you read temperature.

Yet despite the unforgiving New Year's Eve cold, the girls still ran around the apartment seeking each other's validation on the most revealing outfits they could put together. An exclusive VIP-esque club out in Buckhead was hosting a themed NYE party that Jazz had pulled some strings to get them into (she was dating the owner).

The theme was pretty basic: ladies in black and fellas in white. But basic be damned, the twins insisted that they had to show out. 

Andy had been skeptical at first as she had an intense hatred for being cold, but Jazz had reassured her that Space had heated walls, and it probably would be full, so even with all the dancing, sweaty bodies around them, there was no chance of her even feeling a slight breeze. Something that awoke a whole new concern in Andy. 

Jazz finished getting ready a few minutes ago and was painting her toenails on one of the living room couches. Andy, although fully dressed, was still fussing over her hair in the bathroom. Zuri, on the other hand, seemed to be trapped in the cycle of walking in and out of the living room holding hangers with outfits on them, not able to decide which one they wanted to wear. The constant “What about this one” questions coupled with a new outfit every 5 minutes grew tiresome as the clock ticked, indicating their limited time. 

“Girl I need you to pick something as in last year because I told Andre we'd be there by 9 latest, and I need us to be out of here by 8 before the traffic becomes unbearable,” Jazz scolded Zuri loud enough for Andy to hear, while she finished her last minute pedicure. 

Andy checked her smart watch. 18:38. Knowing how long Zuri took to put her makeup on, the time they had left was definitely not enough. 

“Yeah I doubt we'll be out of here before 9,” Andy called back before returning her attention to the mirror. Honestly, a half up-do was the best she could come up with. Especially with this damn custom wig. 

“We? Bitch uh-uh, when that clock hits 19:45, I am leaving with or without the two of you and yall slow asses are gonna have to figure out how to get your damn selves there,” Jazz yelled, all while waving the little nail paint brush in her hand. Andy grimaced at the idea of Jazz taking the only car and leaving them there to Uber or Lyft, and that was gonna be even harder than sitting through traffic since there probably wouldn't be any drivers left. 

Zuri pouted, still unsure of what to wear. “Jazzy, yo ass ain't being very helpful right now,” she complained, waving the clothes that dangled from the hanger. 

“And yo ass ain't being very time sensitive for someone that just heard me threaten to leave 'em behind,” Jazz deadpanned, not bothering to look up at her twin who remained in place staring at her expectantly. 

Feeling Zuri’s glare, Jazz sighed, briefly turning her focus to them. “Why don't you put on that faux fur dress you got back in June? I've only seen you wear it once since you got it,” she suggested sincerely. 

Zuri’s face however, scrunched up at the idea of repeating a dress in a club full of people that had probably already seen it on her Instagram or at their ex’s party the first time they wore it. 

“Oh…really?”

In a flash, any sympathy Zuri held for her twin's predicament evaporated. “Bitch if you don't get your grown ass the fuck up out my face and pick something to fucking wear-” she snapped, causing Zuri to throw  hands out in surrender and retreat back into their room. 

Satisfied with her hair, Andy quickly did her lip combo with concealer, a brown liner and topped off with her new vanilla lip gloss. She spritzed some of Jazz’s YSL Black Opium having forgotten her own perfume in her father's-well, basically her apartment. She gathered her stuff and shoved it all into the large carrier bag she had brought with her and made her way into the living room, sitting on the couch next Jazz. 

“Okay, get it South Side! Ohh, bitch you look NICE!” Jazz exclaimed when she saw Andy's look for the night. 

Andy giggled at the nickname and compliment, feigning shyness and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Oh my God thank you baby. You're too kind, too, too kind,” Andy said, sticking her tongue out through her teeth. 

“Like if we wasn't cousins? Mmm!” Jazz joked, causing Andy to playfully bite her lip. 

The playful back and forth shifted into a conversation about their personal lives. Andy and the twins had an annual tradition of seeing each other every year for 10 days in each other's countries or cities. Since neither of them had a relatively healthy relationship with their parents or the rest of their family for that matter, they would just spend Christmas and New Years together. However, since Jazz had taken a job with the U.S Navy as a Naval engineer, she had only spent time with her two favorite people twice: Christmas and Today. 

“Don't get me wrong, I love my job. Ten year old me would be foaming at the mouth if she knew. It's just…It's so-” Jazz paused to sigh. “It's too Sloane of me,” she finally managed to say. 

Andy frowned, turning her phone off and putting it down. “Is that what you think, or would that be your second brain that's currently in their bedroom taking too long to get ready?” she asked. 

“Little bit of both if I'm being honest. Zuzu hates it. They won't say it, but I see it in their eyes whenever I talk about work. You know, the first time I tried on my uniform I had to rush them to the ER about 5 minutes later because they were having an anxiety attack and it didn't show signs of both stopping,” Jazz explained, the sadness making an occasional appearance as cracks in her voice. 

“Jasper…”

“When medics took them inside for an assessment, I couldn't help but break down myself. Flashbacks of our momma telling us how much Zuzu I looked like her while I looked like our-like Zach. I saw it when I looked at the mirror that day, especially in that uniform. Zuzu probably saw that devil himself that day. I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault…” Jazz trailed off, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks, prompting Andy to pull her into a hug. 

“Hey, hey, listen to me. You didn't do it on purpose. You didn't put on that uniform to hurt Zuri. Yeah, you're both right, you being in the Navy was probably the most “Sloane” thing you could ever do. But it's also your dream. That's probably why Zuri hasn't said anything negative to you about it,” Andy reassured her cousin, rubbing circles into her back. 

Seeing Jazz cry and hearing about the shared pain with Zuri broke Andy's heart. She absolutely adored the twins. Two years older than her, sometimes they were inspirations to her, other times cautionary tales, either way, the only people in her dad's family that she loved…the only people she could stand too. While Zuri was the one that taught her to stand firm in her beliefs and not take shit from anyone, Jazz taught her to work non-stop for what she wanted and to aim for beyond the stars. Outside of her mom, they were the closest things she had to guardian figures. If only they had that for themselves instead of the shitty excuses for sperm and egg donors they got. 

“I know, but it's so hard living with myself knowing that I'm the spitting image of the man that hurt them the most. And that me in that uniform I worked so hard for, had a violent effect on them,” Jazz cried while carefully trying to wipe her tears without messing with her makeup. 

“I wish you'd stop blaming yourself for that day,” they heard Zuri speak from next to the wall at the start of the hallway. 

“Jazzy I ain't gon' tell you again, you are not responsible for what that asshole did to me. None of this is your fault. Same way me looking like his ain't-shit wife isn't the reason why you're in therapy undoing 23 years of abuse. Now tighten up ho, ‘cause tonight we finna cut the fuck up and forget about our problems till the 2nd,” Zuri said as she moved to hug Jazz. 

“Yeah you right…it's almost 8 so we gotta head out anyway,” Jazz said, separating from her twin's embrace and wiping her tears. 

Andy, however, aware of her cousins’ inability to fully open up to one another due to their fractured relationship, moved from her spot to sit in between the twins and pull them back into a group hug, making them both squeal. “Nope, André and getting sloshed can wait. You two have some serious talking to do, so we're all gonna sit here and feel shit or whatever,” Andy declared, earning complaints from her cousins. 

With an eye roll, she pulled out a rather sneaky hail Mary. One they would never be able to resist. 

“I'll take yall out for breakfast till I leave for SA,” she sighed. 

The twins exchanged a glance, silently discussing whether or not they would take the deal as is, or take advantage of it by negotiating even more. The latter was a very dangerous game though. And yet they were somewhat willing to play. 

“Throw lunch in there and you've got yourself a therapy session,” Zuri said as she offered her hand out for a hand shake. 

Andy pursed her lips, considering the negotiation. She loved her cousins to death, but sacrificing her bank account for them was just…

“Fine. But I better see a big ass breakthrough and some tears.”

As a relatively small DJ for hire and bonafide party girl, clubs were a common theme in Andy's life. From the smaller underground venues with an intake of 50 people max, to skyline rooftops with gorgeous views, Andy had seen it all. She had come to regard the vast scene as a second home; a sanctuary. 

And although it was her first time there, Space was no different. 

From the bass thumping life into her soles, to the crimson lighting and the accompanying fog, the warm air that emanated a mix of the various colognes and perfumes along with the common sweat, and the bodies in every crevice of the room moving against one another to the blaring music. 

As the trio was ushered to the VIP section by a bouncer, the atmosphere washed Andy clean of any heavy weight she had on her shoulders. Even though her heart ached for the booth, she was elated all the same. Zuri, ever so nonchalant, craved the rush that awaited them tonight. The year they'd had, called for a night of fun that they'd probably forget about the next morning. Jazz on the other hand was a little antsy. Not only were they late, but it was also by a whole hour. Something Andre would likely be sure to address. 

Finally reaching the section, the trio were brought to a table that was occupied by 

3 people lazily seated on the couches, only one of which she recognized as Jazz’s boyfriend from their incessant FaceTimes and her wallpaper. The other two were gorgeous, for a lack of better words. The woman whose mahogany skin glistened like a priceless treasure under the crimson glow, sized her and (mostly) Zuri up, her rich, deep brown eyes cutting through them with a captivating intensity. Her lined gloss-covered lips curved into what seemed like an approving smirk (also mostly) at Zuri as she stood up with Andre and the other man Andy did not recognize. 

“Gahdamn,” she thought to herself. The elbows to her sides by both cousins however indicated that she had in fact said it out loud. 

“Jazzy! Yall finally made it!” Andre exclaimed as he pulled Jazz into a hug that was followed by a deep kiss. While Andre’s companions seemed unfazed, Andy and Zuri cringed as the couple's tongues made brief appearances through the lustful moans and wet sounds from the sloppy kiss. Zuri’s last straw broke when Andre's hands planted themselves sharply on Jazz’s ass. 

“Okay, that, is e-fucking-nough from you two,” Zuri said as they moved to separate the couple by placing an arm in the near non-existent space between them, making the rest of the group laugh. 

Andre licked his swelling lips, his eyes still on Jazz. “What? A nigga can't kiss his girl no more?” he asked, earning a sharp glare from Zuri. 

“Not till he learns how to do it like he's got some fucking home training,” they snarked with an index finger pointed at him. 

“Okay, thank you for making me regret introducing yall,” Jazz said, interrupting the two before the bickering continued beyond return. 

“Shit, speaking of introductions. This is my cousin Deja, she visiting from Florida,” Andre said, gesturing towards the dark skinned woman that had sized them up. 

The hug between her and Andy was brief, with a quick “nice to meet you,” while the hug with Zuri was a little longer as she whispered something in their ear that made them smirk. 

“And this is my boy Terry, he just moved not too far from here.”

The moment Andy's attention shifted towards him, it had become his to keep eternally. Standing at what she estimated to be 6’2, the tawny skinned man stood at least a head above them all. His broad frame and bulky arms indicated at least 4 days of gym every week, and coupled with his height, he looked imposing. And if his godlike body wasn't enough to capture your mind, his facial features would surely do the trick. Plump and soft looking pink lips he deliciously swept his tongue over, and the well trimmed goatee around them called for Andy to try and snatch a taste by the end of the night. Glancing up at his face, they suddenly made eye contact. His green eyes glimmered with an intensity she couldn't name, daring her to dip her toe in the dark and unfamiliar waters that was him or else he would claim her for his own. Andy's gaze only darkened with a silent promise to make his conquest as difficult as possible. 

Then he took a step forward, breaking into her space. His scent, an earthy, citric  potion that invaded her senses, momentarily disarmed her. Momentarily. 

Terry took her hand and kissed the inner side of her wrist, his challenging gaze unwavering against her somewhat weaker resolve. 

“Pleasure to meet you. You gonna tell me what your name is princess?” he asked her, an undercurrent of teasing in his tone that only she could pick up on. 

“I'm not sure if you deserve to know it yet, “princess”” she retorted, stepping up to the invisible plate he put out for her. A chorus of “oohs” and chuckles sounded from the people around them; people they had even forgotten existed. 

“Oh it’s like that?” he asked teasingly.

Andy tilted her head with a smirk and shrugged, fully issuing a challenge. Terry bit his lip and nodded slowly, fully accepting. Sexyness be damned, Andy was not about to make it easy for some stranger just because they had green eyes and a killer smile. She was a prize to be won, not some courtesy medal for participation and there were no exceptions to the rule.

“Damn, I don’t think Terry’s ever encountered a girl he couldn’t bend over with a wink. You deserve an extra shot for that, girl,” Deja snickered as she lazily flung her arm over Terry’s shoulder.

Right as the words left her lips, a waitress approached the table. Kierra, as Andre called her, took their orders of 25 shots of Don Julio, 4 long islands, and his ‘usual table special’. Andy noticed the girl being extra nice and flirty with Terry, who although playing along, wasn’t really into it. Never the jealous type, especially over men she had just met, she paid them no mind, choosing instead to engage in the animated conversation that was being had around her. Andre was telling them about how he opened the club over a decade ago just to spite his parents. He was around 22 at the time and they wanted to arrange a marriage between him and a girl he had grown up with. He had come to consider a sister and she had just come out to him as lesbian. Although they had joked about it being a lavender marriage, neither of them wanted to feel tied to each other like that. 

“So I left Bel-Air for ATL and my folks didn’t like that one bit. They said if I didn’t come back they’d cut me off and I was like “aight bet”. I took what I had at the time, called up Deja ‘cause she partied here a lot and knew all the right people including Terry’s cousin, and now here we are,” Andre finished.

“Wow, that's insane, so where ole girl at now?” Zuri asked.

“She out in New York on some big time model shit. Ever heard of Briar Vance?” 

“Briar Vance is your best friend?!”

“Briar Vance is gay?!” Zuri and Andy gasped, making Andre, Deja and Terry laugh. Jazz, however, was scandalized by Zuri’s reaction, elbowing them in the side.

Jazz’s boyfriend’s best friend was the biggest model of their time, having graced every big time cover and modeled for every coveted luxury brand by the time she was 27. While Briar was Zuri’s celebrity crush. Andy’s friend group always kept up with her work. Dee, one of her best friends, absolutely adored the modelling legend, even citing her for getting into the business herself. 

“Ho, did you know?” Zuri demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at their twin to which Jazz rolled her eyes before smacking the finger out of her hand.

“Yeah, and something tells me I was on the right track with not telling you,” Jazz snarked, eliciting an exaggerated gasp from her twin.

Light banter ensued within the group as the group’s drinks arrived. Liquor was knocked back like juice and a well-known courage accompanied it. Soon everybody was on the dancefloor lost in the alcoholic daze and the hypnotic Kaytranada mix the DJ had taken to. Bodies moved in reckless abandon while keeping to the rhythm. Hands traveled from body to body in a consensual adventure of attraction among adults.

Adults being Jazz and Andre, and Zuri with Deja. Andy and Terry however were caught in a game of push-and-pull. The pair had barely exchanged a word outside of introductions and a few tidbits about their alcohol tastes. Still, the attraction was undeniable and Andy was there for a good time, not a long time. Deciding to take this stranger home was dangerous, but what else in Andy’s life was new. This tug of war; her and Terry dancing with different people despite clearly wanting to tear each other’s clothes off, fanned this temporary spark into something bigger. It had become a flame threatening to consume them both, but not for long as it was still ephemeral in its essence.

Her body ground against her decoy partner whose name she swore she’d heard. Clayton? Clive? Cleveland? Something like that. She let his palms roam over body, not allowing a single touch to linger a second longer than it needed to. Terry on the other hand clutched and gripped at whatever his pawn granted him access to. Their little performances painted different images of dominance. Andy dangled herself in Terry’s face as a treasure he couldn’t just take like he was used to, instead being someone he would have to put in some work for. Terry promised Andy that once he had her, he would twist and mold her at his will and she’d only beg for more. Their playthings had yet to figure this out as they continued to prod physically and verbally with sweet whispers of absolutely nothing and sensual touches.

They continued to ignore them however, maintaining their silent struggle for dominance over one another through defiant and determined gazes between greens and browns. Andy shuddered internally, she had never felt such a push and pull from anyone she had been with, let alone a stranger who for all she knew could be a decade older than her. She'd probably never see this man again too. Having had enough of playing from a distance, she subtly closed in on her prey, making sure to keep her starter close. Andy was confident, not arrogant. There was still a chance that things could go wrong.

“Dance with me,” she said, earning a sly grin from Terry who wordlessly accepted by taking her hand and maneuvering his way behind her. He led her to a more central part of the floor where the rest of the group had moved to as there was more space. 

Getting through the crowd was relatively easy due to Terry's intimidating stature. A threatening glance was all it took to clear space for them, never once needing to mention his relationship with the owner. Stopping right in the center of the club among their group, Terry placed his hands on Andy's waist and pulled her body flush against his. Their eyes met once again, flooded with lust and determination to make each other fold. 

Lulled into a trance by Terry's weighted gaze and the sound of Victoria Monet’s seductive voice on Alright filling the room, Andy turned around whining her waist, making sure to brush against Terry's crotch. Her hands found her knees, deepening the arch in her back as she gave the intoxicatingly handsome man behind her a show he'd never forget. She felt his hands make themselves at home on the curves of her ass, grabbing and caressing before they finally settled with a firm grip on her waist once again. 

Together they swayed with the rhythm of the music, Terry pushing against Andy with every glide of her hips. Terry hooked his arm around her abdomen and pulled her back to straighten her body. His warm breath fanned the goosebump riddled skin on her neck as she ground up against him. She heard a strained groan tear from his throat, accompanied by a tightened hold on her waist. 

“Fuck, you don't know what you're doing to me,” he rasped, his voice rough and laden with desire, making her throw her head back into his chest. 

“You wanna tell me about it, or you wanna show me instead,” Andy near-moaned without a second thought. 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest before he sharply pressed his groin into her ass. The thick bulge elicited a mix between an excited gasp and a wanton mewl from Andy. The pot between her thighs seemed more eager than she cared to be as drops of honey met the soft skin of her inner thighs. 

“Fuck,” she breathed out.

Her mind however was locked in a struggle between lust and control. While the two had been in tandem the whole night, she found herself wanting Terry more than she wanted to keep the reins of their game. Between how much resolve she had and the tension building in her stomach, control was becoming more and more of a concept. That didn’t mean he had to know that yet.

Suddenly wrapped around the arm she had cupping Terry’s cheek behind her. She was spun into her cousins who had separated from their dance partners. Although they weren’t too far off. The trio swayed to Xtasy be Ravyn Lenae, the mischievous grins on the twins making Andy roll her eyes.

“Someone’s having fun,” Zuri teased.

“Isn’t that what we’re here for?” Andy retorted playfully, making her cousins chuckle.

“I know that’s right! Just remember to keep it cute and safe,” Jazz quipped.

Andy clutched her chest and let her jaw slacken. “Jasper Jorah Sloane! Are you implying that I, your sweet innocent fairy cousin, will be letting some random fine ass nigga split me open and eat me up like a plate of crab legs tonight?” she gasped exaggeratedly. 

“Bitch if yo ass sweet and innocent then I must be Beyonce’s evil twin or somethin,” Jazz cackled. “I just don’t want my little South Side to have an even littler South Side yet. Your daddy may be swimming in bands and some change but Zuzu and I ain’t got “rich aunty” money yet.”

“Hoes is speaking French, talm bout “we”. Bitch I got “aunty money,” I just don’t have “aunty time” or “aunty patience,” Zuri scoffed before playfully jabbing their acrylic covered index nail at Mila. “So you better have some condoms or be on the pill, ‘else you ain’t goin’ nowhere with Mr Badu and his little green eyes,” they added, a semblance of seriousness seeping into their tone.

“Relax, I’m on the IUD way, so nobody will be getting pregnant tonight.” 

“Aight girl, have a good time and if anything seems off, call us. We’ll come running,” Jazz promised. 

“Thanks guys. I love ya’ll so much,” Andy gushed, pulling them into a group embrace.

“Girl we love you too, but these damn group hugs gotta come to an end,” Zuri groaned while the other two giggled.

“Girl fuck what grumpy smurf over there says, I hope the group hugs never stop,” Jazz said.

The trio made their way back to Deja, Andre and Terry, the latter two locked in conversation while the former continued vibing with some girls around them. Jazz cleared her throat before grabbing Andre by his chain into a kiss. While Zuri cringed, Andy caught the subtle wink Jazz sent her. She turned towards Terry whose hooded eyes were already drinking her in like a glass of hard liquor.

“I’m guessing you already know what I’m on,” he asked with a light nip of his bottom lip.

Andy tilted her head slightly, gaze not faltering as she lightly tugged at his white unbuttoned shirt. “Maybe. Depends on what that is.”

A dangerous smirk spread across his features, thumb brushing against her lips before he leaned in, stopping right before their lips could meet. Soft breaths taunted Andy, daring her to close the space. 

“You wanna tell me what your name is princess?”

“Fuck, Andy you feel so good!”

Fast, careless, and rough. The way Terry handled Andy was poetically reminiscent of the way she had gone about the night; some would say it’s how she lived her life. Andy thought it to be the perfect route to fulfillment, and in this case, the perfect speed and feel for casual sex.

“Shit Terry, fucking love how you’re fucking me..Feels so fucking good!” she moaned as he practically bruised her g-spot.

Even with the way he jackhammered in and out of her, he had managed to draw two orgasms out of her, having pounced on her the moment they got out of the cab and into her apartment. His hand had found a perfect place of rest around her throat, grip firm but not tight enough to draw breath. His animalistic glare held a shadow of emptiness to it. It matched the detached lust in Andy’s chestnut irises to a T. His other hand held one of her thighs up for easier access since he was far bigger than she could just take. He didn’t even bottom out, yet he had stretched her out so deliciously.

“Yeah? You like how I’m digging you out princess? You like this big ol’e fucking your pretty little brains out?” he growled, baring his teeth.

Although the sweater and chain had already been enough to have him fucking her against her front door and over her couch, naked Terry was a whole different story. For the unhinged god before her, Andy would have risked a whole other life for him. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances..

“Yeah-oh go–I fucking love it baby,” she breathed out, struggling to connect a coherent thought.

Like the fickle spark between them, the way their bodies connected was chaotic. Their kisses were explosive and disjointed, their hands often getting lost and found in between them as they stumbled into the house. This jerky sequence was like a language Andy knew all too well. Fluidity was foreign to her, so this disorganized dance was more familiar to her. Even as her body began to jerk as Terry sent her crashing into another orgasm, she welcomed the violent wave that threatened to drown her.

“Give it to me baby! That’s right, cum all over this shit,” Terry grunted as he chased his own release right behind hers.

Andy’s being collapsed into a fountain of pleasure right as the fireworks began blasting through the Atlanta sky. A long year being closed out lost in a sea of self-indulgence was something her friends and cousins would call on-brand for her. Although the NYE sex was something New, Andy had become notorious amongst her loved ones for being in an inebriated daze of sorts when it was time to cross into a New Year. Upping the ante from alcohol wasn’t necessarily planned, but it was a welcomed change.

She would definitely be doing this again next year.

Soon Terry pulled out with a grunt and came over her tits before collapsing next to her. However he had only spent a second in the spot before getting up and headed towards her open bathroom. He returned holding up her magenta bath towel. Casually, he made his way towards her as if he hadn’t just fucked her silly. He quickly wiped his cum off her chest before tossing the towel over her laundry hamper. She sat up and maneuvered herself under the now stained magenta duvet. Her back against the headboard and chest partially covered by the cotton duvet, she watched Terry pick her top and his clothes up and place them neatly over the stool by her vanity. The naturality at which he moved around her space made her raise an impressed eyebrow. Even in an unfamiliar environment, his aura never shriveled into uncertainty. In fact he had practically made her space his.

“Mind if I sleep over?” he asked simply. His omission of an explanation made Andy snort inwardly.

Oh to be reincarnated as an audacious and unrealistically good looking man.

“Sure, I don’t have anything you could borrow though,” she shrugged.

Terry just smirked before climbing into her bed and settling next to her. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling in so he could plant hungry kisses on her neck eliciting an erotic moan from her.

“Something tells me that won’t be a problem.”

An incessant buzzing rang through Andy’s bedroom as her phone violently vibrated against her drawer. Andy groaned, folding her pillow around her disheveled head. She clenched her eyes shut and ground her teeth while she patiently waited for the alarm to stop.

And it did, but right as a relieved breath escaped her nostrils, the buzzing made an even more violent return, grating at Andy’s already throbbing head. Another groan escaped her aching throat as her arm stretched out to reach the offending object on her dresser. Her hand wrapped tightly around her phone, instantly hitting the power button and silencing it once more. But her reprieve was short lived when the phone buzzed once again, this time eliciting a frustrated grunt. Except it wasn’t from Andy. It sounded deeper, more masculine.

Right...

“Please answer the damn phone,” the man draped around her groaned annoyedly.

Andy’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering if it could actually be a call and not an alarm. 

“Fucking New Years,” she sighed before grabbing the phone and bringing it closer to her face.

The caller ID read as “unknown” and although she contemplated ignoring it, she figured a random stranger wouldn’t be this persistent so early in the morning. Or they could. Either way, she was getting annoyed and figured that ignoring them wouldn’t make them stop. 

“Sloane,” she mumbled tiredly.

“Andy? Fuck, Andy, it’s Jazzy…my phone died and I’ve been trying to find one that’s on-We’re at the hospital; Andre, Deja and me...Oh my God I-” Zuri rambled, their distressed tone rattling Andy into pushing Terry’s arm off her and sitting upright.

“Zuri, breathe baby. Deep breaths, come on,” Andy instructed, attempting to stop Zuri from flying into a panic attack.

Her cousin’s breaths grew shallower and shallower as they stumbled through an incoherent explanation of sorts.

“Zuzu, you’re not breathing. Stop talking and breathe, please,” Andy pleaded, growing wearier by the second. She pushed the covers off and scurried around the room in a panicked search of her pajamas.With her phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder, she coached her cousin’s breathing, coaxing it from erratic to more controlled.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Zuri reassured through choked but settled breaths.

“You sure?” Andy asked, leaving a baffled Terry in the room to take the call in the lounge.

“Yeah, but Jazzy…” was all Zuri could get out before her words turned to choked sobs.

“Zuri, where are you?” Andy questioned softly as headed back to her bedroom to retrieve her apartment keys and ask Terry to leave.

“The ho-Emory Hospital…Andy hurry, please-”

“It’s okay Zuzu, I’ll be right there. Just give me 5 minutes okay,” Andy reassured as she grabbed her keys from her vanity.

“I need to go,” she mouthed to a still confused Terry who still immediately got the message and rolled off her bed to get dressed.

“Andy please, please hurry, Jazzy she-” Zuri was cut off by a hiccup, but before Andy could tell them to save it for when she got to the hospital, Zuri spoke again.

“Andy, Jazzy’s been shot.”

[innorogers]

Vigil

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

Warning: Mention of sex / Fluff & Angst / Protective Steve / Jealous Steve /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff / John Walker

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull

It ended just as expected. Steve cummed twice in the shower—once in your mouth, because, damn, he tasted amazing after cleaning up, and again inside you, because you smelled just as irresistible with that jasmine scent in your hair.

So here you are, three cups of coffee later, and about to nap on your desk. The body Hydra gave you was strong, but you’ve been in a car chase, with the Iron Army hunting you down, fought in a nightclub, and probably had four or five rounds of sex with Steve. You honestly don’t know what was more exhausting. You’d guess the mission that had gone rogue, but honestly, the sex just left you breathless.

"Oh, rough night?" Robert handed you a fourth cup of coffee, eyeing the dark circles under your eyes. "Need the adrenaline shot?"

"Um…" You actually considered it for a moment. Your body metabolized stuff like that too fast, though—it would only last for a couple of hours, tops. "Nah, forget it.” You need your brain clear to process everything that happened. 

“I’ve heard…” Dr. Lin’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he leaned casually on your desk, his eyes scanning the room where your colleagues were clearly whispering about you. “That Captain America had quite the adventure yesterday. Right after leaving the UN, too.”

He tsked and pulled out his phone, showing you a few grainy clips. Footage from CCTVs and some shaky handhelds—probably from people who had their phones out at the right moment. “A broken bridge, streets on fire, and…a fight in a nightclub? You’re gonna need more than coffee to survive this shift, I think.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Too late for damage control, huh? Is it all over the news?” You could only imagine the hell Steve was going through with Commander Hill: ‘I gave you 1,278 security protocols, and you ignored them all?!’ Yeah, you weren’t setting foot in the command room today.

“Not quite all over the news yet—mostly social media.” Dr. Lin was clearly enjoying the UN’s PR disaster a bit too much. “I think they’re working overtime behind the scenes to sweep it under the rug. Captain America gets attacked his first time outside the compound during ‘The Reconciliation of the Century’? Yeah…someone’s having a bad day in PR.”

“Anyway…as I was saying…You’re gonna need more than coffee, we’ve got company today…”

“What? Company?” You were surprised. “They’re letting people in?!” After yesterday’s security breach?

“Seems the first New Era Project agent that the UN sent was a fraud or didn’t work. And since we visited them yesterday already, today, they’re sending some new guys.” Dr. Lin looked at you, lowering his glasses: “Yikes, right? So for today, we need to pretend we’re working. ‘Cause we’re not sharing our real stuff…which will make this day unbearable.”

Oh. You grimaced after Dr. Lin turned around and began “working.” Yeah, you knew everything about how the last agent went wrong. But actually, this ‘pretend to be working’ thing was good—you needed to analyze everything that had happened.

You opened a document connected to Tony’s hub and started typing, outlining the details for him in your usual style. (It was your private little system—documents stored in The Crib, or what the three of you called the ‘Geniuses’ Sticky Notes.’) You’d barely finished bullet point five when someone in a crisp military uniform appeared beside you, smiling next to your screen.

“Hi, Doctor—whose phone number is still confidential. Nice to see you again.” John Walker said smiling, quoting the line you’d once used to refuse giving him your number.

Oh dear Lord, he really should have taken a nap with you when he had the chance, instead of those three—no, four rounds of sex you had in the dressing room and the shower.

Steve thought after suppressing another yawn, trying to focus on the screen, where Thadeus Ross was losing his temper again, explaining why the UN had nothing to do with the attack he and you got yesterday.

But who was he kidding? Steve almost smiled. Nope, no way he’d have preferred the nap over the sex. That was exactly what he needed after being hard almost the entire afternoon. And four times weren’t enough—he would have gone on if you weren’t in the dressing room.

For fuck’s sake, when is this over? He couldn’t wait to get back to your private lab-slash-home, have a light dinner, and get in bed with you.

Oh, that’s a nice thought: a sex marathon for the weekend is all he needs after this hellish week. He started thinking of your intertwined bodies, your begging moans that sounded like heaven... Yeah, okay, he needs to focus. Maybe listen to what the Secretary has to say instead of thinking about your messy hair, your heavy breath, your skin that felt like silky sweet milk, and your mouth... Yup, stop. Let’s hear Ross, so he doesn’t get hard again in the middle of a full meeting room.

He felt a glare on him, so he looked around and saw Agent Sharon Carter staring with her eyebrows raised, as if saying, “Gotcha, pay attention.” Steve suppressed a smile and looked down. Oh boy, this was going to be a long day.

“I thought your super friends were going to be attending this meeting too.” Once the screen was off, Sharon smiled at him while picking up the folders and files.

“Well... Hill and Sam are still in Fraser’s interrogation. Tony and Bruce are tracking back the security breach. Natasha and Clint took over my place in training since I’m busy with other things. So...”

Basically, what happened was that when Tony asked who would be taking this mission, everyone stepped back, and I was the only idiot at the front. Steve shook his head internally.

“In that case.” Sharon gave him the usual confident wink. “I’m glad. It’s been forever since we shared a mission.” She grinned. “Last time almost cost me my career.”

“Yeah...um...lucky, things sorted out on that one...” He was a little embarrassed but still grateful for Sharon’s help during the Civil War chaos.

“I’m kidding with you, okay?” Sharon teased. “It’s not like I almost got into federal prison or anything.” She sighed a little, lowering her voice: “Although, I wouldn’t have minded if I had to.” She said with a soft voice and a sparkle in her eyes, looking at Steve with sincerity, which made him stiffen.

“So, how have you been?” Steve nodded and asked with a polite smile, pressing the elevator button for her as they headed to the cafeteria floor. “How does it feel to be at the UN? I heard the benefits are better than the CIA, though unfortunately, you’ll need to deal with us again.”

"Ah, I don’t know what you're talking about," Sharon said with a wink, grinning playfully. "Every agent’s dream, right? Dealing with the Avengers, working alongside the great Captain America... even if, well, my boss would rather face another alien army than deal with the politics of this initiative."

“Well, that’d make two of us.” Steve chuckled, and opened the cafeteria door for her.

The hum of chatter and the clinking of dishes filled the air. The compound’s cafeteria was large, efficient, and—much to Steve’s relief—quiet at this time of day. It was near lunchtime, but still a little early for food service, so the air was full of a coffee’s aroma that lingered from breakfast. They got in line for coffee and a quick snack, and Sharon gave him a sideways glance, her expression teasing as she grabbed a sandwich.

“Oh wow, you guys have affogato as dessert? I could consider getting back to work with you guys just for your catering service.” Sharon said, breaking the brief silence as they moved along the counter.

“Well, if you consider that, I could make my best effort to get your agent’s number back.” Steve grinned, grabbing just a cup of coffee.

“Oh yes, lucky number, huh?” She stopped for a second as she laughed and said, “Remember that place we went to… Venice? What was it called, the best affogato in the world.”

“Benicio’s?” Steve nodded. “Yeah… it’s closed now. I mean, gone during the Blip, hopefully reopened now.”

“You didn’t have the affogato, though,” Sharon said with a playful hint in her voice. “Mr. ‘I don’t know how to relax since I got into a fight with Stark and we’re on the run.’”

“Hey, I was the international most wanted. I think it was okay for me just to stay out of the loop. Imagine if I got caught because of ice cream. That would’ve been…”

“Funny? Quite a story to tell? Best date I’ve ever had?” Sharon shrugged.

“...Embarrassing.” Steve said with a smile. “Or awkward, or even humiliating.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. They found a table by the window, where sunlight poured in, and Steve took a seat across from her. He could see the curiosity in Sharon’s eyes, the slight hesitation before she spoke again.

“It really was, actually. One of my top three dates.” Her smile turned more serious, her voice low enough that only Steve could hear over the ambient noise. “Too bad it ended so… abruptly.”

Steve wanted to say, "We would never have made it too far", but he only sighed.

He didn’t want to dismiss her feelings, and he couldn’t deny that something had existed between them. It was brief, but also real. A shared history they couldn’t quite forget or ignore.

Sharon was strong, smart, and capable—someone he admired deeply and cared about. He appreciated her confidence and her courage, but that connection, though meaningful, was nothing compared to what he felt for you now.

That had been a stream. With you, it was tides, waves, the entire ocean.

“We made a good team.” Steve said with a smile, being honest and looking directly into her eyes.

Something about it made Sharon hold her breath. 

She could remember moments in the past when Steve had the same effect on her. He would just gaze at her, and her heartbeat would skip or beat too fast.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t pushed harder when it didn’t work. If she had fallen, completely and madly, as she’d wanted to, the power he held over her would have been overwhelming.

She had risked her entire career just to help him, and they were… nothing. Just a kiss, just some kisses or dates. So what would have happened if they’d continued? She couldn’t imagine a life where she had so little discipline about her feelings, mind, or heart.

“I know.” Sharon spoke softly, still holding his gaze. She was taking a leap of faith now. Cause she couldn’t help to wonder—could it have worked?

What if…they gave it another chance? They didn’t have the menace of the universe’s destruction now, the chances of Steve (or her) being a fugitive again were none after Thanos, so what… what if…?

“But…” She began, but Steve suddenly turned as something caught his attention.

It was lunchtime, and the employees began to arrive at the cafeteria, you among them, with Dr. Lin at your right and John Walker at your left.

“Captain Walker, I really don’t need a date. I have a boyfriend, no, um… fiancé.” You said as you picked up a tray and started serving lunch on your plate, remembering how Steve just highlighted this morning that the ring was indeed, a ring.

“It’s John.” Said a very cheerful John Walker, who was not stepping back from asking you out, even though you had been determined and clear about your “NO”s and reasons.

“Well, does this fiancé have a name? And where’s the ring?” he said while picking lunch and placing food, walking backward with a gracious wink.

“OH MY GOD!” You and Dr. Lin said at the same time, your eyes widening as you noticed the ring was missing from your finger.

“Where’s the ring? D…did you lose the ring?!” Robert was panicking. Did you just lose the engagement ring Captain America gave you?!

“I don’t know, it was on my finger...” You were looking in your lab coat pockets and in your clothes.

“It’s a tracking device, equipped with the last of Stark technology, how...how can you lose a tracking device?!” Dr. Lin couldn’t believe it. 

“Your boyfriend put a tracking device on you?” John hmph'd with a laugh. “What a douchebag!” He put a hand on his chest. “I promise, I would never do such a manipulative, controlling freak thing to you.” He winked. “I’ll look out for other guys who come close, of course, but that’s another level of jerkiness. Ugh...a tracking device, what is he, a psychopath?”

“It’s an engagement ring,” you replied, frowning, though you didn’t think of giving out too much information to him. You thought back to the last time you saw the ring, which was before you took it off when you entered the UN HQ.

You pulled out your phone, wanting to send a message to Steve just to confirm.

Some strands of hair curved in front of you when you looked down, and John, who was standing in front of you, couldn’t help but stretch out his hand and brush them to your shoulder. His fingers ran through your hair, and his fingertips touched your ear as he accommodated it for you.

Before you could react, a loud crash echoed through the cafeteria, like the sound of a broken cup or mug.

Sharon stood in shock as Steve slammed his cup down so hard the porcelain shattered. His face was livid, veins bulging in his neck, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

He abruptly stood, the chair scraping loudly behind him, and stormed in your direction.

"I've got it, babe." Steve said. He didn’t miss a moment of the interaction and was at your side in an instant. He took your hand, his eyes locked on John Walker, and carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. “It was in the pocket of your gear.” 

Both captains exchanged tense, serious looks. You could feel the sparks fly between them as they made eye contact, and after a long moment, Steve finally smiled.

“I’m guessing you're here as a representative of the New Era’s Project, Captain Walker?” He said, placing a firm hand on your waist, his grip tightening slightly.

“Yes.” John replied with a polite but sneering smile.

“The knowledge exchanges from R&D have been…quite enlightening. I can’t wait to see what the best of your team has to offer…to me.” He said as he raised his jaw and tilted his head toward you. You could feel Steve’s body tense, like a bow stretched to its full capacity and ready to snap back.

"Take whatever gear or armory you want, Walker," Steve said in a cold, measured voice, as the entire cafeteria fell silent, all eyes locked on the tension between the two men.

"But the best of this compound is far beyond your reach. And don’t think for a second that you could ever put a finger on that." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, teeth clenched. Touch my girl’s hair again, and I’ll cut your arm off.

"Steve." A calm voice cut through the tension as Commander Hill appeared at the doorway. She walked in with steady confidence. "We’ve got news. I need you and Dr. Lancaster in the Command Room."

Steve didn’t immediately move. His gaze lingered on Walker for a few more seconds, with unspoken warnings in his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned to you, gently taking your hand in his, and led you out of the cafeteria. The weight of Walker’s stare followed behind you both, but your focus stayed fixed on your fiance's figure.

No one spoke in the hallway as you walked toward the Command Room. You could see Steve’s rigid expression. He was pissed, his jaw tight, shoulders tense as if holding back more words.

But you were… well, trying your best to hide the curve of your lips. Just like he had back in the car when you sobbed that you’d go to Wakanda and talk to plants for the rest of your life if he ever left you to go back to his gorgeous ex.

Oh, so he was this jealous? Even a little possessive? He got this mad just because a guy touched your hair? Now, if Steve were any other guy, maybe this would seem like a giant red flag, but this was the love of your life, so…

You slid your hand into his palm, pressing your skin to his, and intertwined your fingers with his. 

Steve’s expression softened, and he looked at you, letting out a quiet sigh. He smiled when you mouthed, I love you.

Commander Hill, however, wasn’t in the mood for your lovebird moments. Her face remained stern as she waited for the door to close behind you, sealing the room.

"Agent Frazer was found dead this morning."

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. Steve’s hand tightened around yours as his expression shifted from softened warmth to immediate alertness.

You lowered your sight.

Somehow, you had a feeling this was coming anytime soon. It was weird, though. Agent Frazer was not your brother; he just pretended to be for some time (and then actually tried to brainwash slash attack you). But for a moment, you wished that had been true, that your brother was alive, even if he had been turned against you. So now he is dead, and you feel strangely sad.

Your way of dealing with it? Throw yourself into the facts.

“How?” you asked, almost mechanically. “Was it because… his neural synapses overloaded, triggering an energy surge that short-circuited his cerebral cortex in under a millisecond? Like… like someone or something… wired his brain to self-destruct?”

Maria’s eyes widened, and she gave a quick, silent nod.

Steve’s grip tightened, haunted by your words. At that moment, he panicked, cold sweat through his shirt, fear dominating his senses when the possibility of losing you suddenly struck hard in his mind. So, could anyone do that? Snap their fingers and cause you a brain dead? 

His body was merely processing under this thought. He felt the urge to hug you, to feel your warmth and heartbeat under his skin, to feel you entirely safe in his arms. But you were in the command room, so he didn’t move.

“Can we make sure that…” His voice trembled slightly. “What happened to Frazer…” doesn’t happen to you?

Commander Hill noted his panic, so she gave him some time to process.

“Oh no.” You noticed too, so you reassured him, squeezing his hand back: “That won’t happen to me. I’ve only been through one brainwash. It takes more than that—multiple processes, open surgery. And Hydra… they didn’t have the tech to pull it off. Not back then.”

“But…” Your mind raced ahead, piecing things together. “Whoever did this? They’re desperate.”

You rubbed your forehead, and as your hands dropped, Maria noticed it: that look on your face.

The same intense, calculating look Steve wore when he was seeing things no one else could—analyzing every possibility, tracing out the most brilliant, cunning plan, whether on a battlefield or at a table of white collars and power brokers.

“Jarvis, any chance Bruce and Tony are in the crib?” You needed to process your ideas, but you also needed someone who could remember everything you’d said.

“They are on their way here, Dr. Lancaster.” answered the A.I. “Crossing the elevator’s door at this moment.” said Jarvis as both entered the room.

“Please tell me you already have a preliminary conclusion?” said Tony, stepping into the room.

“Okay…” You stood in the middle, your mind moving faster than words as you started laying out the analysis.

“They have access to Hydra files—there’s no other way to explain it. Clearance levels that aren’t just high for regulars; files that were locked, or used to be locked, behind old S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption. And the remains of my file? Only a few could access those after Hydra was dismantled.”

Tony leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, tracking your every movement. Bruce sat at the edge of a table, hands loosely folded, but his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.

“So, leftover Hydra goons or former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?” Tony asked. He didn't want to say it aloud, but there was also another possibility: a breach, here, inside the Avengers.

“Or both.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives who went dark when Hydra fell. People who know how to stay hidden but had deep ties to the old Hydra infrastructure.”

“Even if they had the files, they’d need money. A lot of it, if they’re working with the kind of tech that got into Frazer’s head.” Bruce said, swiping through the files on the screen.

“Yeah, this doesn’t sound like some underground merc group.” Maria said, standing beside him as she watched the files on the main screen.

“This is serious, billionaire-level investment. Whoever’s backing them has access to bleeding-edge tech. Retinal implants, memory manipulation… that’s not standard black-market operation. The kind of power they’re throwing around is something only the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. had access to—the old S.H.I.E.L.D. when they were still around.”

“So, they’re gearing up for something big, or they’re hitting a wall. What are they trying to accomplish? Why use Frazer as a puppet?” Tony followed the line of thought.

You hesitated: “I think… They’re close to something. A breakthrough, maybe. Or…” You stopped and narrowed your eyes, thinking aloud. “Or they’re failing. Desperate. They’re making bold moves because they need something critical. And that something is… me.”

Steve’s expression shifted. His fingers locked onto yours, tightly.

“The attack was directed at you. Frazer was pretending to be your brother. And to confirm your existence.” Tony sighed, frustrated and feeling a pang of guilt. He hid you all these years, thinking you would be safe. He should have let you out of the New Eras Project. The Avengers had so many ways of detecting enemies without using your powers. Fuck, he should have listened to Steve when he warned him to let you out of the Project.

“Of the twelve of you, you’re the only one with… those powers.” Steve murmured, almost clenching his teeth. He felt the urge to hug you, as if you were going to disappear or vanish in the next second.

“And a success case.” You said, not wanting to scare him but knowing you all needed the entire picture. “The only survivor, the only… prototype. Still alive. In my body is the source code for why these experiments or creations worked.”

“Wait…” Tony’s glare was fixed on you. “If the endgame is to copy your ability… What could they even use that for?” But it was a self-answering conversation. He was just thinking aloud: “…a soldier who could walk into a building and identify every weak point before the first shot is fired. Or worse, detect something we’ve built to be undetectable.”

“Why stop there, Tony?” Maria’s expression was serious and cold. “Why would there be only one? Hydra made a dozen back then, and they didn’t even have half the tech we have now.”

Bruce frowned deeper, his voice low: “If they’re that close, then we’re on borrowed time. They’ve already brainwashed Frazer, and now they’re playing with neural implants and synaptic overrides.”

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And they are so desperate, they don’t care if we know they’re out there now, because they’re so close they can taste it. Once they succeed, they won’t even fear the Avengers’ powers anymore.”

Tony exhaled sharply, his glare cold. “So, they’re building something. A super soldier, or an army of them—enhanced with tech that would let them see through just about anything.”

“And they’re not far from getting there. But for now, I’m still the key to unlocking that power.”

The room went quiet for a moment as the weight of your words settled in.

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic.” Tony applauded, the whole thing giving him a headache. “We’ve got super soldiers with x-ray vision on the horizon. And they’ve got you in their crosshairs.”

“So basically, we need to see what triggered this sudden desperation.” Bruce leaned forward, and his mind began to analyze: “We could scan for energy centralization around the globe. Human creation needs vast electromagnetic fields to power high-level bioengineering, especially when manipulating neural pathways at this scale. We need to track when or where all this is happening. But…”

His voice was tense.

“I’ve got a feeling they’re at the door already. Because whatever they’re building… they’re almost done.”

The way back home was silent. You could feel the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Steve hadn’t said much since you left the command room. His usual warmth and quiet strength seemed overshadowed by something deeper—fear and anxiety, clunging over him like a dark shadow, haunting him at his heels.

You wanted to speak, but your mind was processing too. You were trying to remember everything you knew about yourself and your siblings, every memory, every piece of paper you’d seen in Hydra labs, every layer of analysis they’d made you go through.

The ride home was silent, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road, even your house slash lab was after all the securities protocols and protective layers Maria had put, he was still alert, as if there were something in the grass and trees of the compound that would attack anytime. You could feel the weight of his thoughts, pressing down like a storm waiting to break.

"Babe there's no need…" You said as Steve moved around the house once you've arrived.

He checked every window, every door, securing them with an almost obsessive care. He paused at the front door, his hand lingering on the lock as if it was the only thing standing between you and the threat he couldn’t control.

You watched him, knowing that this wasn’t just about protecting you—it was about the fear within him.

"Steve, I'm here." You stopped him. Placing your hand on his back: "I'm here. With you."

He turned to you, his face pale. His eyes were haunted, wide with the kind of fear you rarely saw in him. He’s worried.

No, not worried, he’s terrified.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you like you might disappear if he let go. His grip is firm, desperate, as trying to shield you from an invisible danger that only he can see.

His breath is uneven, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

You don’t say anything at first. Words won’t soothe him. So you just hold him back, resting your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently press them on his neck, cupping his face to make him look at you.

"I'm here. And we will be ok." You say softly.

These words made him tremble. Will you? How can you be sure? How could he know? What if…

He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost you.

“I won’t let them take you.” He said, as a sacred oath, tatooed in his soul. “I’m going to set up more protocols.” He muttered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of steely resolve beneath the worry. “More security. I’ll have Tony upgrade the system. I’ll have guards outside. I’ll—”

You stayed still in his arms, feeling the rawness of his fear. His body was tense, and you could feel the tremble in his muscles, the weight of his panic pressing against you. He wasn’t just holding you for comfort—he was holding you like you were the last solid thing in a world that was quickly unraveling.

“Steve,” you interrupted softly, placing a hand on his chest. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “I can try. And I will.”

"Babe…this is the Avengers compound. This is…the safest place on earth. Or even the universe."

"It took only one protocol. One permission. Approved by me." He said with teeth clenched. "I gave him clearance. One, to bring Frazer in front of you, I won't ever, ever let that happen again." He said with conviction, his expressions somber as he remembered everything you went through.

But beneath his determination, you could see the cracks: the anxiety gnawing away at him, the overwhelming fear that no matter what he did, it might not be enough.

"Steve…"

“You don’t understand…” His voice is strained, thick with the fear that he hasn’t been able to shake since the moment he realized you were being targeted. “I’ve seen too much. I’ve lost too many. If something happens to you—”

He pauses.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. He was a man made of iron will and conviction, but here he stood, vulnerable and raw, stripped bare of all his usual defenses.

“Hey, hey, hey…Listen.” You said, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m here. Right here. I’m not going anywhere. I'm here, with you, I'm safe.”

He looks at you and feels a pang of pain to your innocent even naive words.

Safe? Were you safe when he was on the other side of the wall and couldn't do anything but watch as you almost fell under Frazer's brainwash? Were you safe when you pressed a tranquilizer to yourself?

The memory of you in his arms, unconcious and slipping away was so vivid.

His hands tightened around you again at that thought, his grip shaking slightly. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about it.” He admitted, his voice strained. “What if I can’t get to you in time? What if something happens and I’m not there? What if…”

“I can’t take that risk.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. “ I can't. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. His blue eyes are filled with a vulnerability you’ve only seen in rare moments— when the weight of the world is too much, even for him.

“Steve.” You say soft but firmly: “We’ll get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find reassurance in the depths of your gaze. Slowly, he exhales, but he doesn’t let go. That deep-rooted terror of losing you, isn't going away anytime soon.

His arms remain wrapped around you, protective and unyielding, as though he’s made a silent vow that nothing—no person, no secret organization, no force on Earth or beyond—will ever take you away from him.

If only that could be true.

THE End but TBC

Continue to Chapter 10: Eclipse

Alright I'm SO SORRY I'm late!! 2 Full time jobs really is consuming me!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Sooooo I have a really serious question RN, could you doooo me the favor to lmk your thoughts!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[quackarl]

DATING FOOLISH · HEADCANONS

A/N: OMG, some of these include some dirty humor, or whatever you want to call it, so enjoy, I guess. Hahaha. I didn’t even realize how much there is of it. Sorry, or not sorry, hahaha.

He would always, always insist on picking you up from wherever you needed, especially from parties if it was late at night. I can see it going down two ways: sometimes he would very smugly pull up in his car with the windows down, wiggling his eyebrows and whistling at you to get in the car, “your ride: coming in hot.” He knows he’s attractive, he’ll take advantage of it every second of every day, no matter the situation. SMH. He’d then hold the door open for you from the inside and help you in by grabbing your hand and pulling you in, giving you a nice, slow, little smooch once you’ve settled in and quietly asking against your lips if you’re okay, and if you had a fun night. Or sometimes when he feels more needy towards you, he would hop out of the car to greet you more physically, feeling the need to get his arms around you greedily, because sometimes even a few hours apart is unbearable for him. He would not fret to fondle your body either there in the driveway, whether someone sees or not; he doesn’t care, he’s not waiting until you get home to show you some lovey-dovey if he feels like it. He’d ask if you’re finally ready to go home with him, and you nod furiously, because the thought of getting home and doing your nightly routine with him has never sounded so good. Anyways, no matter what, when you get in the car you would always immediately see that he has spread out his hoodie on the passenger seat for you to put on, in case you feel a little cold, or if you just want to snuggle with it and doze off while he drives you two home, if you were feeling exceptionally tired. Sometimes he has some water and food waiting for you in the car too, and he would even keep face wipes in the car as well at all times, in case you ever feel like freshening up or maybe removing some makeup, especially on nights like these. So, a full care package, technically. Curated with love. If you actually happen to be so tired that you keep falling asleep in the passenger seat, he’ll keep one hand on the headrest of your seat, so you can lean on his arm and therefore you get have him close to you even when he is driving. And he gets to make sure you’re comfortable. 10/10 experience. So, every time you’re going out for the night, you can always count on the thought of him coming to pick you up and it’s just a really nice thing you always look forward to. Sometimes it even makes you leave earlier than you intended to. But, who can blame you? You live for those little moments you have in the car, or outside of it, before he takes you home.

It would take a lot for him to try and stay focused on streaming whenever you’re around in the house. He’s taking ‘bathroom breaks’ every 20 minutes from the stream and, no, he’s not even going near the bathroom on those breaks, but instead he’ll find you and dump his daily dose of love and affection on you, acting like he has all the time in the world to do it. You would go for a lie-down on the couch and know he’s in the middle of a stream when you see the door to his room is closed and you can faintly hear him continuously talk about nothing in particular, and all of a sudden you hear nothing but the door opening and then he’s jumping on the couch, literally giggling and all, ending up landing on top of you, startling you in the process. You’d distraughtly ask him “aren’t you streaming right now?!” and he’d just nonchalantly shrug and smile smugly at you, “if ‘streaming’ means laying on top of you and wanting to make you see stars, then yeah, I sure am streaming.” This guy. You’ll eventually have to push him off and send him back to his stream, and he’ll pretend to be so upset at you, walking back to his room with his shoulders slumped and his head hung low, sighing and mumbling at himself, “guess I’ll go back, unloved and disregarded by the one who means the most to me... I can feel my little heart crumpling up, but who cares, right?” and dramatically closes his door. Soon you’ll hear him normally chatting and laughing again, sounding very much like himself again, and you’ll smile at yourself, because he truly is something else, isn’t he? After literally 20 minutes, you’d be in the kitchen preparing something to eat for yourself, and what you don’t know is that he has excused himself from the stream again for another ‘bathroom break’, and this time you didn’t even hear his door open, because he’s being extra sneaky this time around. He’ll successfully sneak up behind you in the kitchen where you’re busy cooking, and then whisper in your ear “that for me?” That would startle the hell out of you again, but you don’t have too much time to be flabbergasted, before it would hit you that he has once again left his stream and chat unattended and unentertained, so you immediately scold him again for it, “go back to your stream!”, to which he just full-on bursts into playful cackles and says something so stupid in hopes to rile you up even more, like “so, no head?” and keeps laughing like there has never been a better time for him to get on your nerves. You definitely kind of have to push him away and send him back to his room again. He’s still snickering when he eventually returns to the stream, munching on some food he managed to steal off your plate anyway, chat being not too amused themselves, lol. He has a lot of explaining to do, especially if he plans on taking more ‘bathroom breaks’, which he totally is. Poor chat.

He’s so attentive to you, your wants and needs, your interests, your favorites, everything! And definitely enthusiastically notices every change in your appearance too, small or big, you don’t know how he even sometimes notices them. Whenever you actually have undergone a change in appearance, he’s just swooning over it the moment he sees your new look. “Holy—” he stutters as his eyes bulge, “you just rocked my world in a brand new way.” Like I said, he is swooning. He would always be supportive about every change you make, especially if it means that you’ve done something that makes you feel a bit more like yourself, a little bit more confident. You would never have to worry about it, he always finds you incredibly attractive, only has eyes for you. That’s true love right there. He’s not taking his eyes off you for the rest of the day, or the week, telling you every time you notice it that he’s “still getting used to you getting even more beautiful.”

He has a really great talent of tasting... and you figured that out whenever he would recognize what the flavor of your lipbalm is whenever he kisses you. “Strawberry!” “What?” “Your lipbalm, or whatever it is. That’s strawberry flavor.” Sometimes he can’t let it go. You’ll smooch him before you leave him to do some work and when you return, he looks mentally gone, so you’ll ask him, “what’s wrong?” He’ll cry out to you, “I can’t figure out what the flavor of your lipbalm was today! It’s that, like, orange fruit.” “It’s literally called ‘orange’.” “No way!” You didn’t even think too much about it at first, how much effort he puts into that. He’ll definitelty use your lipbalm too, sometimes. You’ll look over to him and catch him in the act, applying your lipbalm on himself, “is that mine?!” He stops in his tracks and starts snickering uncontrollably, kind of embarrassed, putting your lipbalm down, “it’s not fair that only your lips get to be tasty! And this way, you’re technically kissing me even when you’re not. It’s like two birds, one stone, or however it goes. You know?” You just suppress a smile and shake your head at him. He’s so ridiculous. Ridiculously cute, may I add.

He thinks ‘Foolish’s property’, or ‘FG’s property’ should be your brand. If he ever was to hack your social media, I think that’s what he would change your bio to. Especially if you guys hadn’t announced it to the public yet that you’re dating each other, one day, boom, that’s what your bio says, and now everyone’s figuring it out. Welp. He’s such a little troublemaker sometimes, thinking that’s the perfect way to announce your relationship to everyone. It would kind of become your thing, or your ‘brand’ like he wanted to, ever since then and unfortununately, people would not live it down. Foolish would not make it any easier for you by acknowledging people in chat talking about it, and add fuel to the fire by saying how much he likes it. It would blow so out of proportion that a fan would make you a keyring with the phrase ‘FG’s property’. It’s still to this day hanging from your bag. He loves it. Don’t encourage him any further though, or fans will start making you bracelets with that phrase, too. You would secretly love it, though.

Sooo many beach days. We all know he loves them. He loves them even more with you. You two would walk in the sunset, sharing a cool popsicle, he’s showing off for you again, literally carrying your clothes for you by throwing them over his shoulder and brushing his wet hair back, making sure you see all of it. He’s putting on a show for you and pretends he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He probably takes his damned surfboard with him too and covers your body with it, if he gets too jealous of people looking at you. Imagine just laying on the sand with him, a little out of breath and cold when you get out of the ocean, and he tries to occassionally smooch you and it still freaks you out to do it in public. Because you know he’s a tease, and you never know what he’s up to. He promises to control himself, or at least his hands. Can’t say the same for his eyes. He watches you and your body at times so… hungrily that you ask him what’s wrong. He just grins at you and tells you that, “in my mind you’re already naked”, and you get so flustered and your face gets so hot that you have to actually walk away from him. He also grins every time he catches you running your eyes over him, because he knows maybe you’re thinking the same thing. Can’t take you two anywhere. SMH. JK.

He would try so hard to live up to the image of a handyman from your dreams. Whenever something needs repairing, he’s right there to fix it. Or it could be something as simple as changing a lightbulb and he would go all the way for that. You leave him to it and a few minutes later when you return to the room, he’s all in the element. He would have literally pushed and tied his hair back and taken his shirt off, flexing his muscles, whistling and chewing some gum. Yeah, he would be so extra, in full gear, even where’s not much to do. You’d ask him, “this isn’t necessary, is it? It’s just a lightbulb.” He’ll interrupt and shush you, “why not?! I’m putting in hard work.” How many Foolishes does it take to change a lightbulb? One, but he is jacked. Let’s be real, he would do this when he is doing chores too. You’ll assign him to empty the dishwasher and instead of quickly getting to work to get it over with, he’s being extra as hell and doing the same thing, tying his hair back and removing his shirt. He’s secretly hoping that you’ll walk in and like what you see and offer him some distraction. “Are you going to war, or what?” you’ll tease him instead when he stretches. “Well, yeah, the chores seem to have your attention nowadays more than I do, so, yeah, I’ll fight them,” is what he replies. Not gonna lie, you find it a little funny, that on top of him trying to impress you he has also somehow managed to make himself jealous. So, expect running into a wild Foolish showing off in the house when you least expect it. Sometimes you make fun of him for it and how hard he still tries for you, like that one time you asked him to put the dry laundry back to its’ place and he told you, “I’ll put you in your place in a second, too. You just wait.” Oops. He did. You still make fun of him sometimes, but this time with a motive.

So, about the PDA. Sorry to say it, but his signature move is smacking your butt. And make it as extra, and as embarrassing and annoying for you as possible. If you two ever were to bake together, at first it would be such a cozy evening of baking, unless it’s not so cozy anymore when he tells you, “if only I could get my grabbers on you,” and before you have any time to object, boom, your butt is full of floury handprints. He definitely takes a picture of it when you’re not looking. If you were having a nice day at the beach together, guess who constantly has sandy handprints on their butt? Yep, you. You would definitely feel kind of embarrassed, but he just laughs at you and tells you not to fret. He definitely wants to snap a fun, little sexy picture of it too. For what purpose? You’ll never know. There’s been a time when you’ve been renovating your friends bedroom together, a friendly offer, just painting some walls, and you already know that whenever he has some paint on his hands, he would just reach out and land a smack on your butt, staining you, before you had any time to react. Too bad you had to walk home after that and didn’t have spare pants to change into with you. Foolish feels no shame whatsoever, unlike you, who just doesn’t want to be seen by anyone with these major handprints on your bottom. So, whenever there’s something for him to smudge around, watch out, because he’s not afraid to get his hands (and you) dirty. One of his love languages, perhaps, considering how often he does it.

Whether you want it or not, you’re kind of like his workout buddy now. Or more like a piece of equipment. You’re not sure anymore at this point. But you do know that he usually ends up with more stamina than he started with when you join his work-outs and he can’t take the new-found sexual tension that forms with he’s all giddy and giggly every time he insists you two do that couple-y thing, where you’re lying underneath him while he’s doing push-ups. Sometimes when he lays there on top of you, you really cannot help it that your mind starts wandering, and he calls you out real fast with a blush on his cheeks, (because he’s thinking about it too), and a strained “get your mind out of the gutter”. You do, until he makes you sit on his back while he’s doing push-ups and your breath kind of hitches at his remarkable stamina and strength. It’s all fun, until it’s not, when he starts doing it at nights when he can’t sleep. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night in an empty bed and he’s on the floor doing push-ups and says, “oh, thank God you’re awake, giddy up and get under me.” You have to refuse, because it’s literally 3 AM and you’re dead tired. The next day he’s at it again. This time he’s doing sit-ups on the bedroom floor and calling for you to sit on him, “saddle up, I’m waiting.” You’ll hesitate, because how would that even work and he’ll huff at you, “oh, so now it’s a problem. If we were to get hot and heavy, you wouldn’t even think twice about it.” Who knows, maybe he invites you to take a shower with him afterwards, (happens 9 out of 10 times). It’s sort of a ritual now. He thinks you spoil him everyday by being the most stunning person alive, so he thinks he needs to catch up a little too and keep himself fit for you. As if you would ever lose your interest. At first you think working out is a drag, until it becomes fun with him, and now you two do it as often as you can. He would definitely smugly propose some more couple-y stuff and moves every time too, sometimes so inappropriate you have to refuse. It’s your job to keep up with him and keep him in check.

[strangelysamantha]

valentine’s day ❀

steve harrington x fem!reader.

warnings: cuteness

words: 1,169.

summary: valentine’s day with steve harrington.

request? no :)

a/n: just a cute little idea i had. like if you enjoyed <3 it helps me know what type of stories you guys like to read. alsooo my asks are open!

my masterlist

—————————————-————————

steve harrington didn’t care much for holidays until you came into the picture. now he wasn’t exactly your boyfriend. you guys were actually just friends, much to his dismay. he had a little crush, except, not so little. you were all he thought about. anytime something even remotely funny happened, he’d immediately text you about it. he found any opportunity to talk to you. it didn’t help that you two worked together.

at family video, your number one priority was just to make some cash. occasionally you’d have a nice conversation with a costumer, and working there allowed you to have access to the new movies. seeing steve with his little green vest on was a good perk. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in him. i mean his hair, his face, his personality, everything about him was very attractive. sometimes even you’d get lost at work, stuck in your head thinking of little cute scenarios between you two. he’d always snap you out of it, “hey you aren’t getting paid to sit around and think.” he pulled you out of your trance, “hey there’s no costumers so i’m actually free to do exactly that.” he grins at your response.

“come on, help me put these new releases away, teamwork makes it go by faster anyway.” you sigh, “fine.” you get out of the chair, and grab a handful of movies. you begin putting them on the shelf, placing a price tag on the cover. he sparks up conversation, “how’s your day been?” you sigh at his lame attempt of chitchat. “slow.” he laughs. he gets to his last movie in his stack, reading the cover. “look at this.” you put away your last movie, freeing your hands. you reach for it. you read the cheesy title. you open the vhs case, inside was a post it note with sloppy letters on the front. “you look so pretty today. i love working with you.” the note made you smile. you look up to see steve nervously looking at you. you peel the note from the vhs, putting it on the shelf. “this is really cute steve. thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you slip the note into your pocket. “steve?” you question. he turns around to face you, “yes?” you step closer, “what are you doing tonight?” you’re nervous, and he notices. “i’m free.” a red hue spreads to your cheeks, “would you want to come to mine?” he’s ecstatic at your invitation. “yeah, i would love too!” he grins, “i’ll follow you to your place?” he asks. you agree, “that sounds good.”

your shift goes unbearably slow, but steve manages to make it a little better. you close the store down, leaving for the night. you lock the front door, and steve walks you to your car. “just follow me.” he nods, “okay cool.” he gets in his car. he could be jumping with joy for how much he’s been waiting for this. he always wanted to make some kind of move, but he was too worried about making work miserable.

you direct him to your house. he pulls in behind you, and the two of you walk to your door. you unlock it, the two of you rushing inside. “follow me.” you lead him upstairs to your room, he goes in after you, and you shut the door behind him.

he’s quick to examine your room, taking in your decor and your belongings. you go to your closet to grab a change of clothes. you head to the bathroom to get dressed. he waits comfortably in your bed. you join him on the bed, “what do you wanna do?” you ask. “i can drive us somewhere?” you think for a moment. “sure!”

steve takes you guys out to eat, then he takes you to a remote area to watch the stars. he sets a blanket on the floor and the two of you cuddle beneath the sky. “steve?” he looks over at you. “yeah?” you hesitate. “would you be my boyfriend?” he’s grinning ear to ear now, his breath staggered. “yes i would love to be your boyfriend.” his confirmation thrills you, you two enjoy the silence, cuddling each other's arms.

the date obviously went really well, and by the end of the night you had a boyfriend. you always wanted to be with steve, and now that you had him you were very happy. he treated you really well, and to keep the momentum going, he knew that with valentines coming up, he had to outdo himself.

steve finds himself in the store. a large shopping cart in front of him. he grabs balloons, chocolate, a bouquet of flowers. he got you fluffy socks, and a fuzzy blanket. he got you some other stuff that you had talked about wanting. he heads back to his place to set up for the special night.

he sets up the lights, littering rose petals from his door to his bed. he created a heart shape on the bed with the roses. balloons filled his ceiling. on the bed was a basket of all the treats he bought you. he changed into nice slacks and a black button-down t shirt. he slicked his hair back, spraying himself with cologne before giving you a ring.

you smile at your phone seeing steve’s cheesy smile appear. you immediately answer, “hey!” the sound of your voice fills him with nerve, “what are you up too baby?” he questions. you sigh; “nothing… i’m so bored.” he smirks at the perfect set up falling into place. “me too. would you be willing to come over?” you bite your lip holding back your smile; “yes i’ll be there in a few.”

now, seeing as you hadn’t really spent any holidays with steve, you weren’t sure if he’d made valentines a huge deal. just to be on the safe side, you wore a nice outfit. you touched up your make up, getting in your car, and headed to steve’s.

upon arrival, steve was on his front porch waiting. your eyes linger over his outfit, taking him in. you walk up to him, butterflies filling your stomach. “hi baby.” he pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple. “let’s go inside.” he reaches for your hand, leading you inside.

he heads straight to his bedroom, you follow after his movements. when he opens the door, you see the rose petals and the stringed lights. your eyes widened at his effort, “steve what is all this?” he grins. “you’re very important to me. i wanted to show you how much i love you.” you pull him into an intense kiss. “thank you so much.” you pull away, approaching the gift basket. you pull out an assortment of candy, your heart swells. “this is the nicest thing anyone has done for me.” he smiles softly, “you don’t deserve any less. you’re perfect to me.” he holds your waist firmly. “happy valentine’s day baby.” you bite your lip softly, “happy valentine’s day stevie.”

thank you for reading! <3333

[hokkersujinn]

Shotgun [ Sunarin x reader ]

Suna calls u when hes high again XD, but this time ur lowk fed up w it so in response he shotguns u lovingly of course.

Maybe trigger warnings; Weed, you being insecure, Shotguns, more weed. yeah.

Hokke notes; There's like references here, if you know, u know

Ding.

...

Ding.

...

Your ringtone suddenly plays.

...

Man.

You already know who it is.

You're awoken by a call, it's Suna. Letting your thumb swipe up and answering the call, you're greeted with a voice. "Hey, wanna go out right now?" You hang up, and he calls again. He's persistent when he's high.

Answering it again he greets you with a offended tone, "That was rude." this time you let him continue. "Like I said earlier, wanna go out right now?" with impatience lacing his voice, word for word.

"Alright. Where are you?" You struggle to form your words, you just woke up of course, your voice sounds disgusting right now. He tells you he's at the nearby park, one that you two frequently go to whenever times like this comes.

It wasn't uncommon for you to sneak out of your house at 2am every now and then, and its all thanks to your best friend, Suna Rintarou. You spent all your days crying over a guy, ranting about what your parents nick picked about, and basically everything with him ever since you two met. You'd consider him in the S tier rank if you were going to rank all your friends in a tier list.

Anyways enough about your friendship with him, there's always one thing that bothers you alot. He only calls when he's high.

It's not a problem- sure, however whenever you two hangout it's always you who have to plan it. Its always you who has to invite him to whatever it is you were planning that day. It was starting to bother you. He only reaches out to you when he's drunkenly high off weed.

You make your way towards the park, and you immediately spot his car parked, probably because it was the only car right now... You knock on the windows to signal to him that you're there.

He rolls down the window and you were greeted with the smell of weed and his very strong cologne, It sure made you dizzy. He unlocks the door and you sat on the passenger seat next to him, making yourself comfortable.

"Nice pajamas, nerd." He makes fun of you. That's right, you haven't changed out of your pajamas. You had plaid pants on and a random shirt with a videogame character on it, which you loved by the way. "I was asleep when you called you know." you say, trying to ignore his playful insult. His chuckling died down and he looks at you, damn he's high alright. "Sorry, but I was getting really bored without you." You just sigh and deal with the smell.

It was unbearable when you first entered but now you were getting used to it. "It's fine, it's been a while since we last hung out anyways."

Silence engulfed the car, you were contemplating whether you should bring up the topic of him never reaching out unless he's high. It bothered you much but you also want to keep it cool, you don't want to stir up any argument especially when one of you isn't on planet earth right now.

In the end you suck it up, nothing will change if you don't talk now.

"Hey Suna, why do you only call me when you're.. high?" If you could dig up a hole and sleep in it forever you would. "Why not?" He replies, it was like a sharp pang was hit through your heart right now. You were debating whether to keep talking or not, you knew you wanted a different answer than that half ass one.

"Seriously, you only call me when you're high off weed. It's starting to bug me." You say through gritted teeth, you're using all of your strength not to tweak out right now. Suna sighs and smoke comes out of his mouth, it was lowkey hot but you'll never admit that.. well not when you're sober that's for sure.

He takes a second to talk, you're expecting him to say "Oh cUz I jUsT get BorEd wHen I'm AlONe" but he proved you wrong.

"Maybe because Its easier when I'm not thinking straight." He said holding the joint in his hand. You look at him, completely off guard. "When I'm sober, I just think that you don't want me to bother you much to the point that I just let you do the first move all the time." He continues, you were grateful for an honest answer but it pissed you off.

To think that he didn't want to bother you so much that he let you do all the work of inviting him and planning the hang outs, it made you think that he didn't want to hang out with you instead. You're about to tweak out.

"Is that seriously it?" You say, giving him a look of disbelief. He nods at you, joint still in his hand.

You just feel like something snapped inside, like a character being beheaded and all their blood pours out, splashing everywhere. That's how you felt.

"Suna." He looks at you. "Did you seriously think you bother me? Do you know how many times I was contemplating to ask you to hangout? I was starting to think that you hated me secretly and I'm becoming a nuisance- Not to mention you're high right now, I feel like you only tolerate me when you're not on earth right now" Suna looks at you in surprise, "That's not true." He tries to defend himself but you weren't putting up with it. "If it isn't true then invite me to hangout when you're not high. That's all I ask for, god.."

You finally calmed down, or so you think you did. Suna leans in closer to you, and looks you directly in the eye. "Is that all you wanted?" you nod.

"Then let's hang out tomorrow, at the arcade." You were thrown off guard by the sudden invite, you wanted to but you're not sure whether it's genuine or he's just saying this since he's high. "You're only saying that so you won't feel bad about everything I've said."

Suna has had enough with you, he takes a puff out of his joint and yanks your hair pulling you closer. You were about to retaliate, you were met with an open mouth kiss combined with the smoke of weed. You choke out violently and slap him, your face was red and filled with embarrassment.

"What was that- no, Why did you do that??" You say trying to catch your breath. "You talk too much" He snickers at you, giving you a look of satisfaction.

You begin to hit him a bunch before he threatens to do it again, "I'll shotgun you again if you don't stop." You both laugh but now there's a lingering tension in the air, didn't he basically just steal a kiss from you?

Now you're even more embarrassed at the fact that your first kiss wasn't like in the movies and it was from your friend who's probably still lingering in space.

You glance at him and you see him looking out the window, his ears were red. Seems like you weren't the only one flustered from the interaction.

"Hey.. wanna do that again?"

Yeah screw it. You two can blame it on the weed tomorrow.

[thechy-fychannel]

Pls ramble about domestic everywhere but princeton-plainsboro hilson and thirteen occasionally coming over for holidays and stuff pls pls pls!!! Id love to hear more

I would be happy to!!!

they go a weekend trip to the flea market in the next town over about once a month. it's just about the only time wilson can get house out of bed early bc house loves going to the flea market. they always hold hands while walking up and down the various aisles, pulling each other to the booths they want to look at, even if house will pretend to complain about each one they go to. house loves pointing out obvious knock offs that ppl are trying to pass off as genuine and wilson always gets a kick out of watching him demolish the scammer trying to charge $400 for a bad knock off handbag.

wilson secretly schedules a time for them to sneak around in the backseat of his car for a while. not just because they're desperately horny for each other all the time, but because they both get this sick nostalgic thrill from it, reminiscing about fooling around in the back seat when they absolutely should not have been. it makes them feel young and freshly in love again and sometimes they need that, they need to just hide away from the world for a while and remember what that felt like all those years ago.

every now and then, someone who also works at the hospital will see them having dinner together and they swear it looked like a date, they swear house and wilson were looking at each other with big heart eyes and it did not look platonic at all. and then house will like, send out a hospital wide memo the next day about being able to see cuddy's bra through her shirt and everyone's like "yeah uh huh sure, he's obviously gay with the guy known for fucking half the nurses here 🙄"

as part of bearing the responsibility of knowing their secret, thirteen's place becomes the "dog house" when her dads friends are fighting. house has shown up at her door drunk and sad a few times and when she asks him why he didn't just sleep on their couch, house always has an excuse, but she always comes to realize that the guy just didn't want to be alone and thirteen was the only one he could be honest with about what they were fighting about and why house can't just put his ego aside and apologize. wilson almost always comes to pick him up the next morning, bringing breakfast with him that they all enjoy and her dads friends are back to normal by the time they leave her place.

the holiday's become unbearable for her after her brother is gone. her dad moved to live closer to his family, and she can't stand the idea of being around them all grieving her brother while she alone carries the knowledge that she killed him, even if she knows it was the right thing to do. neither house or wilson ask her to explain when she says she's not going to go home for christmas. wilson invites her over and ofc she tries to decline, says she wouldn't want to intrude, but wilson insists and says they're not doing anything special, just eating takeout and listening to house play christmas music on the piano, maybe watch a movie or two and drink a little too much wine or beer. she swears she'll be fine alone, but she shows up at their door on christmas anyways and she is so happy to not be alone. house and wilson get tipsy and they're so cute, kissing on the couch, making each other laugh and house making all sorts of innuendos about the kind of gifts he gave wilson that morning.

thirteen's apartment building gets shut down for like a termite infestation or smth like that, so she has to stay with house and wilson for a couple of weeks and she learns far more about those two than she ever wanted to. she witnesses their morning routine which includes a lot of sleepy bickering, shower sex, not so sleepy bickering, and then wilson inevitably leaving house behind and telling him to take the motorcycle bc he can't be late for the third day in a row, he actually has meetings and a general sense of respect for his job, unlike some people. house looks far too pleased with himself at wilson's attitude, which led her to her next discovery of just how much of their fighting is actually just foreplay. she is traumatized by the time she goes back to her place.

[gigiiluvsformula1]

Lestappen fic, idea from @ladysomething

Tw: alcohol and implications of the deed

.

Max's pov:

It's a cold Sunday evening, I just won my home race.

Yet I feel empty, drained, and scared.

I still haven't confessed.

Decades of racing together in karting and racing together in formula 1, I'm scared of confessing to my rival.

Charles Leclerc.

His beautiful hazel eyes, his perfect brown hair, his toned body, I feel like I'm choking whenever I see him, my tongue gets tied as I debate over whether I should speak to him or keep to myself.

Every race, every weekend, all I look forward to is seeing his tired eyes after he gets out of the car, his fluffy hair, that pretty fucking face, and hearing his endless complaints about the new car.

He has a grip on me he doesn't know he has. God, what I'd do to just let it all out and tell him I like him.

But I can't. I'm scared. What if he doesn't like guys? It would ruin everything we have going on, then my daily life would be unbearable.

So I keep everything in me, it won't be long before I burst and ruin everything.

I grumble into my hands as I toss in my bed, I'm tired, everything after the race went past like a blur, and now I'm here in my hotel room, groaning and moaning about a silly childhood crush that just refuses to go away even after a whole decade.

My phone suddenly buzzes as a notification pops up, from the driver's group chat.

Alex albon: is there a party happening or not.

Yuki tsunoda: Yes there is!!

I sigh as I type in;

Me: there is no party yuki, I am way to tired for this right now.

Yuki: ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ

George: too tired to celebrate a home race win? I don't think so.

Max: Whatever, you guys celebrate, I'm not there.

I hold my breath when Charles suddenly started typing.

Charlie: We should celebrate, we got a double podium yk @lewis

Lewis: yeah.

Charlie: Alright, it's settled. Party at my place! Shame it wasn't at yours tho max.

At the mention of my name, I gulp and type.

Me: yeah I guess.

Charlie: Sure you're not coming?

Lando: OF COURSE HES COMING, HE HAS TO.

Oscar: you can't force him Lando.

I sigh, I'm probably gonna get forced to go.

Me: fine. I'll come.

Lando: you didn't have a choice anyway 🙏

Charlie: Yeah exactly!!

I get up and lock my phone before changing into whatever nice clothes I had in my suitcase.

.

My cab pulls up at Charles' place, a nice and luxurious penthouse he rented simply for the party here in the land of the Dutch. As I walk into the penthouse I'm hit with the scent of rich cologne and perfume, along with alcohol, of course. I'm immediately found by Lando and Oscar, who always seem to stick together.

"So you made it" Oscar sighed, obviously feeling bad for me. He knew how it felt to be dragged into a celebration against his will, courtesy to Lando of course.

"Of course he did, I would've pulled up and dragged him here if he didn't come himself" Lando exclaimed with much enthusiasm, most likely having a few drinks in his system.

We reach the bar and I pick up a Gin and tonic and start chatting with Oscar while Lando is out dancing on the floor.

"Congratulations on the win, didn't get to properly tell you" Oscar said casually.

"Thanks, congratulations on winning the constructors." McLaren really built a rocket ship this year.

"Eh, it doesn't relaly matter if I don't win" Oscar sighed.

"Yeah, right." I chuckled.

"Hey, what are you guys chatting about over here!" I hear George exclaim.

Me and Oscar look over my shoulder to find George, Alex and Charles, all slightly drunk, especially Charles.

"Yeah- we've been looking for you guys, and Lando" Alex exhaled, knowing that it would be difficult to find Lando after he ran off to dance.

"He's probably near the dj, let's go looking for him" Oscar had a look on his face that said 'I'm done with this idiot (Lando)'

"Fine, me and Oscar will go to find Lando, and you three-" Alex started.

"Ah! I have to go find Kimi, first party right, gotta make sure he's alright, young lad isn't he?" George suddenly interrupted, looking at Alex as if giving him a signal.

"Oh- yeah! Of course! Err, Max, you can uh take care of our drunk little friend here, can't you?" Alex sat a drunk Charles down on to the chair near me as he grunted.

Before I could refuse, the three of them were gone, leaving me alone with Charles.

A drunk one at that.

"Max..." Charles slurred.

"Uhm that's me" I said.

"Of course that's you- you know, the drinks here are pretty damn good, I'm off the wall right now" he exclaimed, obviously stuttering and stumbling around his words.

"I can see that" I say timidly, this is really awkward for me, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Why aren't you drinking anymore?"

"Uh, I have to take care of you, so I can't get too drunk" I regret the wording slightly.

"You're not doing a really good job, I'm not feeling cared for at ALL" he chuckled.

"Well, then... What should I do?" I question.

He slowly blinks as he looks up at me for the first time this whole night, piercing through my eyes, I look back into his beautiful eyes. I feel his eyes drop down to my lips, maybe lower before fluttering back to my eyes. His breath hitches as he mutters something softly under his breath.

"What was that?" I ask.

"N-nothing" he stammers.

My stomach jumps, am I imagining this tension between us? He's just stupidly drunk, right?

I feel my ears and cheeks burn up as Charles leans in closer.

"I was just thinking about how I should congratulate you" he said. I didn't know what he meant by that, but it surely made my mind race with... Thoughts...

"Why are you so red " he asks me, oblivious to how he just made me blush the hardest I've ever blushed in years.

"The alcohol is getting into my system" I lie.

God I wish it was though.

.

After a night of exchanging simple words among eachother, Charles fell asleep right there on the bar, and I sat there, watching his body rose and fall slightly as he slept perfectly still, his mouth slightly parted.

I feel ashamed at myself for what was going on in my head, when I finally managed to push it all away when I saw Oscar and Lando approach me, both of their clothes oddly ruffled and wrinkled now.

"Max- sorry for leaving you alone here with Charles" Oscar said, sounding tired.

"Oh yeah, no worries, he fell asleep anyways" I reply.

"Right" Oscar nods.

We stand there for a moment as we look at eachother, both of us getting the idea that we both know something went down which really shouldn't have.

Lando can't find his balance and his legs look like they're going to give away any second now.

It could be from the alcohol, but from the way he's suddenly hiding his earlier exposed neck makes me sure it's something else.

"Uh, we're gonna get going now" Oscar syas nervously.

"Good, see you soon" I say.

As I watch them leave, I feel jealous. Jealous that they could get away and do what I've wanted to do for so long. They both like eachother, while I'm stuck in this one-sided hell while the man I'd give anything to be with, is lying next to me, fast asleep with too much alcohol in his system.

Or so I thought.

"Good morning Max" I hear Charles grumble.

I look down to find him looking directly at me, which I didn't exist.

"... It's only midnight" I sigh.

"Whatever" he says lamely.

"You sober now?"

"More than I'd like to be" he admits.

I chuckle at that, it wasn't even that funny, but I digress.

"Say, you did take care of me pretty well while I was asleep" he started.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah- I woke up safe and sober, so Kudos to you" he grinned.

My heart thumped at that stupid grin, and I felt like a loser as I had to gulp and exhale before I continued;

"I'm glad you're happy with my service sir."

"Well not completely..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... I could've sobered up much faster if you accepted my request you know" he whispered.

"When did you make a request?" I asked, trying to remember the answer to my question.

"Oh yeah, I didn't say it out loud, did I..." He muttered. "I meant to ask you to kiss me"

My eyes widened as I choked on my own spit when I heard that. "W-what?"

"You heard me. I wanted to see how it felt." He said calmly, too calmly.

"Are you sure you're sober?" I questioned, this situation felt surreal.

"80% sure, but answer my question, will you?"

He asked.

"I- Charles, are you really not drunk?" I questioned again.

"For fucks sake Max, yes! I'm sober!" He exclaimed.

We both looked into eachother's eyes, as if that would let us know what the other was thinking about.

And before I knew it, Charles' hands were on my collar, and mine were on the back of his neck.

We shared a soft, quick kiss, like a tutorial to an actual kiss. It wasn't just a peck, it was more, but not too much, as if we were testing the waters.

We both pukled away at the same time, my eyes flicked to his face and I saw him looking back at me.

"I might be bisexual Max" he exclaimed.

"Welcome to the club" I chuckle.

Of course he didn't actually like me.

.

As we both sat outside of the penthouse, waiting for our cabs back home, I felt the burning need to ask him so many questions, but I held back.

"Why did you let me kiss you?" Charles asked suddenly.

I jolt a bit before thinking about what I should say, should I just admit to it? "I... I don't know"

"What do you mean you don't know" he retorted.

"Why did you want to kiss in the first place" I asked back.

"... To see if kissing a guy is as good as Lando makes it out to be" he said casually.

"You're still drunk aren't you?" I ask.

"Maybe. But answer my question!" He huffed.

"Because- I wanted to help a friend out" I say, very obviously lying, hoping that Charles wouldn't notice because he's drunk.

"You didn't know the reason when you agreed, so you're lying" Charles retaliated.

"Charles... I don't know, and I don't feel like talking about this right now-"

"Would you kiss me again? If I asked?"

I inhaler sharply as I turn to him, I didn't expect that question, and I have to answer it, he's looking at me expectantly.

Fuck it.

"Because, I love you Charles" I exhale out, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He starts laughing. "What? Don't joke with me Max, no way!" He's smiling now. He then notices that my face is unmoving and soft, almost vulnerable. His face reddens as he realises.

"Oh." He whispers.

"Yeah." This wait is going to be so awkward, I think to myself.

"Me too. I mean I like you too, but I didn't expect you to like me back I-" he starts rambling.

I turn to him, surprised, as he continues on about how he thought I didn't like him at all.

"..you.. like me?" I ask softly.

"Since we started formula one together, I guess. But I never really accepted it, until just a few minutes ago" he smiles sheepishly.

"But, I never thought you'd like me, you're so cold and distant to me!" He asks with a shocked tone.

"What? Have you not seen the way I look at you? How I look like I want to pull you close and never let go?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Everyone looks at me like that though?" He asks, oblivious.

"For fucks sake Leclerc, that's because everybody on this fucking grid wants to fuck you!" I exclaim, shocked at how clueless he was.

His eyes widen, as I realise the mistake I made.

I indirectly admitted that I wanted to fuck him.

"Fuck..me?" He asks, his eyes blown away with his mouth slightly agape.

"Do you even look in the mirror you idiot?" I ask.

"Of course I do, I just, didn't expect that!"

"Oh my god Charles, you're so clueless!" I tease him.

"No I'm not! And besides, it doesn't matter, what I care about, is whether you want to fuck me" he said, softly, in a bit more of a sultry manner as he started closing the gap between us, until we were merely inches away.

"You're making it really difficult for me to control myself, Charles" I mumble.

"Why do you have to control yourself?" He hums against my ear.

"Because you're drunk" I exhale.

"I think I'm quite sober now" he chuckles against me.

.

[kissorkill16]

HN:WTRB TGS AU

House Party

(It's been a while since I've posted something TGS AU related. Just letting you know that this is a fanfic I thought about while I was out, and I decided to make a fic about it. Does this even count as a fanfic since I don't usually write HN Fanfics like this?)

The girls were practicing their cheer routine in the gym. When they finished, they walked to the bleachers and grabbed their water bottles. As Finch sipped her water, she caught a glimpse of Nicky sitting underneath the bleachers.

She told him he could hang out there until she was done with practice, since the other girls wouldn't really like it if he sat on the bleachers while they practiced their routine. Even if Finch managed to convince them to at least tolerate it, there's no way she could stop them from making fun of him.

So there he was, sitting under the bleachers.

Jasmine: So, I was thinking we host the party at my dad's house. It'll be fine, since he's on a business trip and doesn't get home until, like, Saturday or something. What do you girls think?

Penny: That'd be cool.

Lola: Yeah. Your dad's got a bigger house anyway.

Jasmine: Sweet! Finch, you comin' to the party tonight?

Finch: Obviously. Also, girls, can I ask you guys a question?

Penny: Girl, of course. You can ask us anything.

Finch: What would you guys think if I invited someone else? Like a boy.

Jasmine: I see no problem with that.

Lola: Well, it kinda depends on who the boy is. Is he cute? Is he someone on the soccer team? Track team? Football team? Any sports team?

Finch: Actually, he's someone from the Inventor's Club.

All of the girls gasped and gagged.

Lola: GROSS!

Jasmine: You're inviting a nerd to my party?

Penny: Is it Bales? Torre? Oh, please tell me it's not Torre.

Lola: I'm just hoping it's not Esposito. That nerd's just as unbearable as his sister. At least his sister is at least somewhat cool.

Finch: It's not any of them.

Penny: Oh. Then is it Delroy? Are you trying to convince him to hang out with the popular kids again instead of those nerds?

Finch: It's not Delroy either.

Jasmine: Then who is it, girl?

Finch didn't answer, she just stayed silent. Then the girls silently gasped when they realized who Finch was talking about.

Jasmine: Absolutely fucking not, bitch! There is no way I'm letting Sick Nick anywhere near my dad's house! So whatever you're thinking, Finch, forget about it.

Finch: Girls, I'm not asking you to try and be friends with Nicky, all I'm asking is that you at least tolerate him until the party's over. If he's not coming, then I'm not coming either.

Jasmine:...

Penny: We do need someone to make sure one of us doesn't get too drunk.

Jasmine: Ugh! Fine, he can come.

Finch: Great.

The girls went out of the gym to go to the bathroom. Finch stayed behind and crawled under the bleachers, and she saw Nicky wasn't looking at her.

Finch: Hey, Nicky.

Nicky: Why would you want me to go there? You know I'm not liked by those kids, or any kids in this school.

Finch: Look, I just thought it'd be a good way for you to relax and take a break from this Crowface mystery. I mean, you just decided you'd stop worrying so much about your trauma and what'll happen if you keep going. So I thought maybe you'd want to take a little breather from everything.

Nicky:...

Finch: I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to go home, I can always drive you.

Nicky:...I guess I could make an appearance and stay there for a while.

Finch's eyes lit up and she wrapped her arms around her friend.

Finch: You're going to love it!

That night, Finch drove to Jasmine's house with Nicky in the passenger seat. Once they were there, they parked the car, got out and walked to the house.

Nicky was shocked at the amount of people there, but he should've expected it when Finch said she was inviting him to a party.

Everyone on the cheer squad, the track team, soccer team, and the football team was here. This house was packed with all the popular kids. It made him feel uncomfortable. Finch noticed this and gently grabbed his arm.

Finch: Are you okay?

Nicky:...

Finch: Nicky, if you're uncomfortable, I can always just drive you home -

Nicky: No. I said I was gonna come, so I came. Now I'm going to enjoy this party with you and the rest of your friends.

Finch: Okay.

Loud music played in the background as the kids drank alcoholic drinks, smoked cigarettes, and danced to the beat.

Meanwhile, Trinity was sitting in her bedroom with all of her friends, her hands clutching her phone as she tried dialing Nicky for the hundredth times.

Trinity: Come on, Nicky. Pick up. Please pick up.

Maritza: Where is he?

Enzo: Last time I checked, he said he was going home tonight.

Ivan: Maybe he did, but never made it.

Everyone turned to look at Ivan, and he looked back at them, confused.

Ivan: What? It was a joke.

Maritza: Well it's not funny, nerd.

Delroy: Uh, guys. I think you might want to see this.

He showed them his phone, and the group saw that it was a picture of a house party. The caption read "PARTY TIME, BITCHES!".

Enzo: Delroy, what does that have to do with this?

Trinity: That pic could've been taken weeks or days ago.

Delroy zoomed in on the picture and showed them again, and they saw that Nicky was at that party, drinking from a beer can.

Delroy: Also, this was posted an hour ago.

Maritza: So Nicky's at a fucking house party right now?

Trinity: But why?

Delroy: Who knows? But there's a lot of people from the track, soccer and football team, and girls from the cheer team. You guys know who else is a cheerleader?

It was silent for a moment. No one had to answer that question, they already knew who Delroy was talking about.

Trinity: Oh hell no.

The party was just getting wilder and wilder by the minute, and Nicky was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. He felt nauseous, dizzy, and the inside of his mouth tasted like absolute shit.

Finch stopped dancing and bent down to help him.

Finch: Nicky, are you okay?

Nicky: I think I'm gonna throw up.

Finch: It's okay, Nicky. Just stay calm and I'm gonna drive you home.

Nicky: No! Don't drive me! I'm literally in no position to be driven anywhere!

Finch: Oh my. ...Well, we can go upstairs and you can lay down in one of the bedrooms. (Mumble) I hope no one's using them though.

Nicky: (sigh) Okay.

Finch helped Nicky stand up and guided him upstairs.

Trinity ran down the sidewalk to the house, her friends following after her. When she saw where the party was, she ran inside the house, pushing past all of the kids.

Enzo: Trinity, slow down!

The girl pushed past all of the kids to the group of cheerleaders. When they saw her, Jasmine looked at her in disgust.

Jasmine: What're you doing here? I didn't invite you.

The rest of the gang pushed past all of the kids and stood behind Trinity, and Jasmine rolled her eyes.

Jasmine: I didn't invite any of you, so what're you doing here?

Trinity: Where's Nicky? We saw in a pic that he was here.

Lola: Oh, him and Finch went upstairs.

Trinity:...

Delroy: Girl, you better run.

Trinity wasted no time in running up the stairs and kicking open all of the doors. When she finally found Finch and Nicky in one of the bedrooms, Finch looked at her in surprise.

Finch: Trinity?!

Trinity: Why did you bring him here?!

Finch: Trinity, I -

Trinity: You made him come here, didn't you? I saw in the pic that he was drinking. Did you make him do that? Did you intoxicate him?

Finch: Look, Trinity, I can explain.

Trinity sighed, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

Trinity: Fine. Go on. Explain.

Finch: Look, I just thought that Nicky might be taking things a little too fast with this whole investigation we're doing, so I thought he'd want to come to a little party. I left him alone for a couple of minutes, I didn't think he'd actually drink anything.

Trinity: So you're telling me that Nicky got drunk all on his own?

Finch: Yes. Look, I'm sorry. I never should've brought him here, I -

Trinity: Finch, it's not even about that anymore. I'm just angry that you have the nerve to tell me and my friends that we're just as bad as you are, because we don't listen to him and ignore him and shit. Yet here you are, dragging him to a house party that you know have people that don't like him, alcohol, and probably drugs.

The cheerleader looked at her shoes in shame, and Trinity sighed once again.

Trinity: I know you're trying to be a better person for Nicky, but I'm going to need you to try a little harder than this. Because Nicky is not okay right now, both mentally and physically.

Finch: You're not the only one who wants to protect him.

Trinity: No, but I'm the only one actually acting like I want to protect him.

A moment of silence passed by, and Trinity took a deep breath to calm down.

Trinity: Let's just both sit here and look after Nicky. Just sit together, keep him company and not talk to each other. Won't that be nice?

Finch: (nods)

Trinity: Great.

They sat down on the bed, making sure Nicky was still breathing every now and then. Enzo and Ivan peeked through the doorway and looked at them.

Enzo: At least they're not fighting.

Ivan: I honestly would prefer if they were.

Enzo: Ivan, how could you say that?

Ivan: (sigh)

Enzo: Look, let's all just hang out upstairs until Nicky wakes up, okay?

Ivan: Fine.

Enzo looked behind him, and he noticed that Delroy and Maritza weren't behind him.

Enzo: Where's Delroy and Maritza?

Meanwhile, those two were downstairs, Maritza was cheering Delroy on as he chugged down cans of sodas.

Maritza: CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!

[florawrites-blog]

Rant

Okay roses let me rant to you guys about the dream i had its a lucid dream where me and my bestfriend nudie shared a school with jay and jake and she had a crush on jake which is her actual bias but she was to shy to talk to him so she made me act as if i had a crush on him and made me confess and give him letters but it was written by her and jake was so goddamn mean like so mean he'd reject me each time and they were both like very popular in school anyway he would reject me and like make me look like fool and all and i didnt wanna tell nudie cause i felt bad about it so i'd still confess to him but then there was a party and he humiliated me infront of the whole school and nudie was there and so she got so mad at jake and as i wanted to escape from the humiliation then my heel broke and then GUYS GUESS WHO HELPED ME ITS FCKIN JAY GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HES BEEN LOWKEY BIAS WRECKING MY BIAS SO HARD AND NOW HE OH GOD anyway then i woke up AS HE LOWKEY WAS ABOUT TO HELP ME I WOKE UP RUDE ASF

anyway here is a scenario of this dream because why the hell not:

The Confession and Redemption

You and your best friend, Nudie, were navigating the turbulent waters of high school together. Nudie harbored a secret crush on Jake Sim, one of the most popular guys in school. Shy and unable to confess her feelings, she asked you to deliver her love letters to him. Reluctantly, you agreed, not wanting to let your friend down.

Every time you approached Jake with a letter, he cruelly rejected you in front of his friends, including Jay. Despite the humiliation, you kept trying, determined to help Nudie. The situation escalated at a class leader's party. You decided to confess again, unaware that Nudie was present. This time, Jake humiliated you in front of half the school. Nudie, seeing her best friend being ridiculed, angrily confronted Jake.

Devastated, you left the party, trying to find a taxi to take you home. As you stumbled, your heel broke, leaving you sitting on the rough ground, tears streaming down your face. Suddenly, you felt a coat being draped over your shoulders. Looking up, you saw Jay, Jake's friend, standing above you, scanning the area for onlookers.

"Get up," he said, his voice cold but tinged with concern.

"Go away, Jay, please," you replied, trying to dismiss him. He walked away, and you thought he had left. But then you saw him leaning against a wall nearby.

"I'll wait until you get tired of sitting on the ground," he stated.

Embarrassed, you got up, and Jay noticed your injured leg. "I fell, I didn't sit here to cry," you explained.

"Take them off" he instructed, " take what off" you said confused "the heels" you looked down remembering they broke "yeah thanks but im not walking bare footed" he hesitated at first but then, he lowered himself to sitting on one knee taking your feet to his knee as he unbuckle your broken heels.

"You didn't have to do that," you muttered, avoiding eye contact feeling both hot and speechless.

"Of course I didn't, but you weren't being helpful either. Now, please be more helpful and get on my back," he said, signaling for you to climb on.

Reluctantly, you did as he asked, and he carried you to his car. "Where are we going?" you asked.

"I'm taking you home," he replied curtly.

"Did Jake tell you to do this?" you inquired.

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because," he said, cutting off further questions. The drive home was silent until it was not " so are you gonna tell me the reason why you helped me" you broken the unbearable silence "do i really need a reason to help you" "well of course I mean I dont know you tell me dont you think its weird weve been in the same class for years you saw me clinging on jake for all that time and you event witnessed me getting humiliated but didnt even mutter a word to me but then now you magically saw me and help me what does that even mean" he sighs as he lays a hand on his nose bridge " fine y/n i know why you did all of that its for your friend isnt it i overheard both of you talk in class and honestly i felt bad for you" you look at him in disbelief "wow okay i see so now i am you charity case or oh please dont tell me after overhearing me and nudie talk you told jake and made a bet to humiliate me right" "aye right like i would do that" "we-" you get cut off by jay mid scentence "just let me drive you home and after that lets both forget this ever happened" "fine lets do that" as you reached to your house. He handed you a pair of slippers from his car.

As you entered your apartment gate, Jay leaned his head on the steering wheel. "You sure do drive me crazy, Y/N. So crazy. Did it have to be you?" he whispered to himself, feeling a mix of frustration and unspoken affection.

hehe hope you enjoyed

[mylittleredgirl]

previously on mylittleredgirl: [four seasons of m*a*s*h] [six weeks of screaming about margaret houlihan]

i have now finished season five disc one and a bullet point recap is due! [yeah there's more screaming in it]

bug out was a fucking DELIGHT

god i was so worried though when klinger had to trade all his dresses i was wailing internally. what if he just wears fatigues forever!?!??? but it's all okay!!!! that tassel mod dress he has on in "the abduction of margaret houlihan" healed me ten times over. his outfits have been 🔥 this season.

such a mix of really dumb slapstick comedy and "oh god the war is Right Here" drama and little character sweetness... love it.

and the family reunion happiness at the end!!!! god bless. i left my body for like thirty-six hours.

i really really love the tone they're striking with frank this season. they've walked back the cartoon villainy of late season four, so he's once again a relatively harmless clown. i breathed a huge sigh of relief. he's soooo much more fun this way.

margaret's engagement: bonkers. delightful. she's unbearable. there is so much wrong with her. i want to study her in a jar. i will never shut up again.

with this put together with some bits later in the disc (including that cut scene crayon joke lmao), did she somehow manage to trade DOWN from frank? is that even possible??? it's either that or this new dude is actually just The Exact Same Guy, but now she'll be the fool wife at home instead of the beloved mistress.

i mean personally if i were louise burns i'd be very happy for my dumbass husband to fuck around on the other side of the world for as long as possible while i enjoy the $35,000 house and two cars without him, but for someone like margaret who is far more interested in being wined and dined than running a household, this... may not be the field promotion she thinks it is.

hawkeye rising to frank's defense and him and b.j. enabling frank's little takedown of margaret at the end felt very real. sure, in the grand scheme of things, margaret is Annoying and frank tried to have hawkeye executed last season, but bros before hos.

okay how FUNNY would it be though if the "little redheaded nurse" frank planned to seduce was baker-from-the-nurses, because she would have scratched frank's eyes out for trying and not felt bad about it

and actually, that's a plausible backstory for the extra bad blood between her and margaret, too??? oh yeah. that definitely happened.

i actively missed frank/margaret as the disc went along though. maybe the show had stretched the tension of that relationship as tight as it could go, and it's nice that they get to do new things... but they're so funny and awful together and i miss them sharing scenes!!!

i really assumed - like frank did lol - that they would continue to rabbit around together, only now she would also get to string him along with the jealousy game, but...... well, i'm glad it's still hanging out in the background of the narrative, anyway. i live in hope that they will slip and fuck and it will be soooo messy.

FUCK is it possible i shipped that for real???? god. i don't know if my family name can bear this dishonor.

out of sight, out of mind...

...has taught us the very important lesson that hawkeye is 9000x more annoying without something to do (annoying to everyone else i mean!! not to me. i will happily watch him annoy everyone.)

him asking b.j. to visit him a million times a day 🥺

i'm almost satisfied now by the "doctor-experiences-the-role-of-patient" theme that i didn't get in "hawkeye." i suppose hurt/comfort fic can take it from here.

however i'm totally satisfied by how sweet it was to see everyone taking care of him!! and how much they love him!!

lt. radar o'reilly... devastating. i mean funny and delightful but it's mean!! so glad that boy is back in stripes. however they could have at least promoted him a little for his trouble. sergeant o'reilly???

i have already said more about the nurses (post here) than ever needed to be said. and yet. i'm quite sure i could say more if pressed

the abduction of margaret houlihan

........ will i never be free of colonel flagg episodes 😞

i love the continuing evidence that she has invested time in learning korean, and i really really really love the slow expansion of our perspective to include like oh yeah. there's a village where people live full time and it's literally right here.

imagine if after the war she becomes an ob nurse...

on the one hand, how do they not make frank do gun handling training. on the other hand they probably don't because it always ends with stitches and an accident report.

i sometimes wonder if mash was like jury duty for asian actors in the 70s. you probably won't get to say anything but they call you up and you just have to go.

dear sigmund!!!!!! this is another episode where people were staring at me through the window so i'll comment a little more:

the fandom's favorite guy sidney freedman deserves that crown. what a weirdo. talk about a busman's holiday for a psychiatrist to come to the 4077 for a vacation and psychoanalyze everyone. but for fun!

i really don't have a proper sense of the geography at play here because he really does like. just come by to play cards once a week. and drives through a war zone i guess to do it? he has probably sacked out in the swamp before when the air raid situation changes but this time he just... doesn't leave.

and aaaa!! margaret took her very special episode about How To Make Friends to heart!!!! she joined the poker game!!!

she had plenty of time to work on that lesson though because the jeremy bearimy time shenanigans are in full swing here at the 4077. we went from midsummer in 'the nurses' to a bitter cold march two episodes later.

i always kind of assumed the mash weather was loosely inspired by real human weather, but no, in fact the actors just have to randomly suffer in parkas or getting sprayed in the face to look sweaty in alternating weeks regardless of the surrounding conditions.

SUFFERING for their ART

also jfc b.j.!!!! dunking frank in cold water in freezing temperatures is a serious health and safety concern my dude!!!!

i'm afraid b.j. is still not beating the little brother allegations, he has just aged up from innocent baby to fucking gremlin

(i should confess that my little brother diagnosis is guided by the fact that in my complex family and housing history i only ever lived with "brothers" younger than me, and never older ones. but the innocent baby and prank gremlin stages are real.)

i made a note here of "margaret randomly drinking gin in the swamp now!!?!??" like the poker game was one thing, people could strong-arm her into that while she feigns protest, but ma'am WHO are you and what have you done with— and then the next note is "oh good she's still insane"

potter named his horse sophie <3 also he's collecting granddaughters, i think the count is up to 3 now. or baby sherry is experiencing a temporal anomaly of her own!

the letter radar wrote to the dead guy's parents and potter reading it... fucking ended me. please let harry morgan do serious bits more often, it's outstanding and far too rare.

it's not surprising that frank's wife changing (wearing pants! doing activities!) would stress him out, and not just because he's a dick. any of them would struggle with their families growing without them, because that means they can Never Go Home to the life they left!! (e.g. trapper losing it because his girls were getting older.) but it is kind of fascinating that he loves both his wife and margaret, and even said mid-fever that he wanted them to be friends, but he also wants them to be NOTHING alike.

all in all it's understandable that sidney would check in to the no boundaries motel to have his poker buddies shake it out of him, but he could also have taken his leave somewhere with indoor heat. so he's as crazy as the rest of them. <3

also they're not his patients he's just observing them like zoo animals so forget confidentiality he's absolutely gonna write a book about them someday.

mulcahy's war: i don't know why i have been misspelling his name with an 'e' the whole time because it was literally in the end credits of almost every episode for four seasons.

oh god he's so precious i don't talk about it enough. playing poker for orphans. feeling like he doesn't do enough while potter thinks he has the hardest job. that unrelenting positive regard for everyone. always with that little grin.

that little grin in FULL PLAY as he sneaks out of the house to go off to war when dad's not looking

radar should never be sent on a mission where people are bleeding when will they LEARN

corporal cupcake deserves every medal he gets!!!!

frank's foot fetish becoming his one true medical specialty is just. i don't know what to do with this. good for him??? do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life???

speaking of unrelenting positive regard, margaret's policy of nurses never talking back to the doctors in the operating room sure has taken a hit. i realize this is about frank being an intolerable ex, but i choose to believe that the detente between margaret and her nurses has turned the O.R. into a pvp zone. the next time hawkeye tries to seduce a nurse over an open body, he's gonna get wrecked and margaret's just going to shrug pretty and look the other way.

in conclusion: season five is soooo gooooooood!!!!! can't wait for disc two!

[bingbong21]

"My Generation" Translation Part 1.

Next

Hello there! I haven't seen anyone translate the BB drama track yet (and I refuse to get twitter to really double check), so I am mustering all my limited willpower and throwing my hat into the ring!

This post covers from 0:00 until 11:03. Because I feel like translating 40-ish minutes of drama track would make this unbearably long. Also if you see a number, that means there's a note I want to make because I did take some liberties.

With that said, here we go!

News anchor: Yesterday the functionality of Hypnosis Mics was restored, and reestablishment of Chuohku’s command is underway.

Ichiro: It’s been a week since the Block Party and we’re already back to normal huh?

News anchor: In addition, regarding the postponed Third Division Rap Battles, the Administrative Inspection Bureau announced that it is too early to decide to cancel the event.

Ichiro: Ha…The Division Rap Battles…

Rei: Yo! Sorry to keep ya waiting. What’d you want?  

Ichiro: Thought I’d give this back. *tosses keys*

Rei: Hm.

Ichiro: It’s the keys to the car you lent me. It’s parked over in that lot.  

Rei: Hmph. Is that so?

Ichiro: That’s all. Sorry you went out of your way.

Rei: Eh, I had work around here anyway so it wasn’t a problem to come get the keys.

Ichiro: Hmph. Later. *goes to walk off*

Rei: How are they doing?

Ichiro: Aa?

Rei: Jiro and Saburo.

Ichiro: They’re away right now.

Rei: Hmm?

Ichiro: The festival made them want to see more of the outside world, so they both went on a trip.

Rei: *laughs* Finally getting used to parenting, huh?

Ichiro: Quit screwing around. They’re still kids. Until it’s time for them to enter society, I’ll be sure to take proper care of them.

Rei: Hmm.

Ichiro: It’s common sense. Later. *walks off*

Rei: Now then, wonder what’ll happen?

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

Jiro: I’m back Aniki!

Saburo: Ichi-nii, I’m home!

Ichiro: Oh, welcome back! What’s this? You guys decide to come home together?

Jiro/Saburo: No way!/Not at all!

Jiro: We just happened to meet up!

Saburo: Ichi-nii, please listen. I’ve learned so many things because of my trip!

Jiro: Oi! I’m gonna talk first, so you be quiet!

Saburo: Grh…Don’t you shut up?

Jiro: What was that?!

Saburo: Aa?!

Jiro: Aa?!

*sounds of them fighting*

Ichiro: *laughs* Looks like nothing’s changed since before your trips.

Jiro: That’s not true! I worked together with them and learned a lot of different things!!

Saburo: Me too! I got a lot of inspiration from interacting with people in the countryside!

Ichiro: I get it, I get it. How about we go eat, and you can take turns telling me about it, yeah?

Jiro/Saburo: Yes!

*sounds of dinner*

Ichiro: Eeh? So Jiro, how did you end up traveling with the company president?

Jiro: Oh! I happened to be given a ride by the company while I was hitchhiking. His company was getting merged, so I helped him with a lot of different things.

Saburo: Heh. You probably just carried his bags the whole time.

Jiro: Did not! That’s a problem he dealt with himself!I got to do consultations with the investors. I also got to attend business meetings with clients and mediated fights between employees!

Ichiro: So, did you achieve the purpose of your trip?

Jiro: Yeah! It’s crazy how much I learned working with a lot of different people. Things can get pretty complicated when you bring together people with different ideas who all want to improve the company.

Saburo: Ha! You talk like you actually understand it.

Jiro: Shut up! Is it your turn to speak?!

Ichiro: *laughs* Well, I’m glad it seemed to be a good experience.

Saburo: Me too! I had a very interesting experience!

Ichiro: You went to the countryside, right Saburo?

Saburo: Yes! My idea was to bring technology to rural villages and encourage regional revitalization!

Ichiro: Oho, that’s a pretty grand plan isn’t it?

Saburo: But, after I lived there for a bit, I realized that the inconveniences and simple way of life (1) aren’t a bad thing.

Jiro: Yeah, I get ya.

Saburo: Ha? What do you possibly “get”?

Jiro: Well I mean, look at it this way: our journeys were different, but it sounds like you and I learned the same things, yeah? 

Saburo:No we didn’t! The depth and quality are of a completely different order of magnitude!

Jiro: Tch, why do you have to be so annoying?!

Ichiro: *thinking* They’ve been able to expand their horizons.

*door bell rings*

Jiro: Oh? Who could that be this late?  

Saburo: It’s way too late to be making a request.

Ichiro: Just a minute! *opens door* Yes? Chairman?!

Chairman: Apologies for coming so late. As the chairman of the Neighborhood Association, I have a favor to ask of you.

Ichiro: Ha…please, come in for now.

*re-enter home, gets tea*

Ichiro: So, this urgent consultation…is it about work for the Neighborhood Association or something?

Chairman: No, the truth is I’m currently in talks about a large-scale urban development project.

Ichiro: Urban development project?

Chairman: It seems that Ikebukuro’s biggest hope is to build a large suburban facility. The stores will be closed down, and those lots will be where culture, sports, and commerce come together. They want to build the largest desired large-area suburban facility. And that’s why I’m in a bit of trouble.

Ichiro: I’d like to hear more details

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

Ichiro: I see. You want a response and now your family is having a falling out.

Chairman: Yes. At first there was only opposition from the current generation of my sons, who are in charge of the stores. But recently my grandchildren’s generation has begun to rebel, and things are starting to get out of control.

Ichiro: That seems difficult.

Chairman: Here I am thinking of everyone’s happiness, but they just don’t understand a parent’s feelings at all.

Ichiro: When you say that…

Chairman: I’ll only say it here: it’s been tough, even for our family’s fish shop that supports the other stores. If this keeps up, we won’t be able to avoid bankruptcy.

Ichiro: And when that happens, your family’s way of life will be destroyed.

Chairman: Yes. This is a difficult decision for us Neighborhood Association officials. However, when we think about the lives of our sons and grandchildren, we’d rather replace the shops with the urban development.

Ichiro: Haa…

Chairman: They’ll get all the money from the buyout. With that amount, our sons and grandchildren will be able to live their lives without any problems.

Ichiro: Chairman…

Chairman: We are sad about the loss of the stores. But more than that, we want out children to have happy lives.

Ichiro: Me too…I’m my younger brothers’ parent, so I completely understand how you feel.

Chairman: I thought you would say that. But, that’s just how a parent is supposed to think. Ichiro-kun, could you help me to convince my sons?

Ichiro: Of course. Please leave it to me.

Chairman: Oh! You’ve really saved me!

Ichiro: So when is the deadline to respond to the urban development plan?

Chairman: The person in charge said it will be in a week.

Ichiro: Understood. If that’s the case, I won’t be able to gather the others’ opinions by then.

*door opens*

Jiro: Aniki! Let me help too!

Saburo: I heard the whole story. I want to help as well!

Chairman: Jiro-kun, Saburo-kun! But, you two are still just kids.

Ichiro: If it’s these two it’ll be alright. Please leave this matter to my brothers.

Chairman: Well, if you say so Ichiro-kun…

Ichiro: Yessir!

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

Ichiro: Let’s go over the situation again. A large-scale urban development project has come to Bukuro, and the people in the shopping district are being approached to sell their land. It looks like opinions on how to respond are divided. First we have the clients, the Chairman’s generation. Then, we have the current generation who run the shopping district. Finally, below them, is the grandchildren’s generation. Here is what each of them have to say.

Saburo: So the grandchildren’s generation don’t want to sell the land and want to continue running the store there.

Jiro: But the working generation has an option to sell the land and open a store in the new facility as a tenant. Isn’t that the best option? They’d be able to get money and keep the store open.

Ichiro: It seems that the difference in selling prices is quite different.

Saburo: I see. So in other words, there’s a difference between cashing in the right to open a store and exercising the right to open a store in the facility. (2)

Ichiro: However, it seems like the shopping district manages all the stores. Meaning that if they were to become a tenant, there wouldn’t be any hope of making a profit.

Jiro: So like the chairman said, it would be best to convert everything into cash?

Ichiro: Yeah. Everyone is getting emotional and it’s difficult to have a discussion. However the response to the developers is due in a week. If we don’t hurry, we’ll run out of time.

Jiro: In that case, why don’t we gather everybody at West Gate Park and have them listen to the full story?

Ichiro: That’s a great idea!

Saburo: There’s probably a key person for each generation. If they speak for everyone, I think it’d be quicker to talk to them.

Jiro: The leader of the shopping district union is probably the one who organizes the current generation. Which in that case would be the fish shop’s old man.

Ichiro: I heard the person who organized the grandchildren’s generation is the old man’s son.

Saburo: That means it’s a three-way struggle between parents and sons, doesn’t it?

Ichiro: Aha…Well, can I leave the gathering of the people to you two?

Saburo: Yes. It’s already late today, so tomorrow Jiro and I will split up and see what we can find.

Jiro: What do you think about scheduling the meet-up three days from now?

Ichiro: Ah, there’s no problem with that. I’m counting on you.

Jiro: Yessir!

Saburo: Please leave it to me!

Ichiro: Jiro and Saburo have really changed in such a short period of time.

Notes:

Saburo actually says “mazushisa” which is poverty and I uh. Am a Saburo fan first, human being second so uh. I interpreted more favorably for him lol

This was tricky because it used “kyouju suru” which literally means “to teach” and like. Idk, maybe I’m an optimist and want to believe they have been told all their options. So I went with exercise, as in they the second generation are exercising their right to tell the new facility to give ‘em a spot

[beachy--head]

A silly drabble based on Jackson saying April has road rage in season 13 (and yeah, I know the canon in s13-14 doesn't make any sense, but this was really fun to imagine)

___

Ask anyone who's ever met his wife to describe her, and they'll probably use a synonym of "nice". Kind. Cheerful. Sweet ("Unbearably so", Cristina would say). She's known for being the peppy resident, the upbeat attending, whose compassion is not always reciprocated but still knows no bounds.

But these people obviously have never been in a car with April Kepner as the driver.

One minute she's talking about her plans for Sofia's birthday party the next weekend ("I offered to bake the cake, because both Arizona and Callie are on-call and Ari doesn't even like to bake in the first place, so it was the least I could do, I mean-"), and the next she's swearing like a sailor who stepped on a Lego.

"Did you see that?? He cut me off and is slowing down? Hurry up! We could be going to the hospital to go save lives or something!"

They're not, they're actually headed home after a long, exhausting shift at Grey Sloan's, but April doesn't really care.

"Do you need an instruction manual to tell the difference between the gas pedal and the brake?"

"April."

She makes a move to blast the horn and then reconsiders, opting to flip the offender off. Her hand stays safely below the dash though, so the driver doesn't see, but Jackson does. Who are you and what have you done with my wife?

"My grandmother would go faster than you and she's been dead for years!"

"April!" 

He hadn't really noticed before, because he or Alex or Meredith had done most of the driving on the occasions they carpooled to work. And sure, Alex had told him about what happened at the trauma certification, with April hijacking an ambulance and apparently yelling at Major Owen Hunt, but he had thought his friend had exaggerated when recounting the situation, because, well, he was Alex. Her jumping on another guy at the board and trash-talking him (or at least trying to) could have given him a clue, but he'd been too busy being in awe of her feisty side, and, well, they'd soon found themselves very preoccupied with each other, so he hadn't given it another thought (except than "damn, that was hot").

Two weeks of marriage though, and he's discovering a new April Kepner, driving menace.

"I would have had the time to go to the hospital, do a total colon resection, round on my patients and come back and you'd still be waiting at this stop sign, you-"

What follows is a litany of words Jackson is pretty sure would be highly frowned upon by Karen Kepner and that April certainly didn't learn at Sunday school.

He's not ashamed to admit that it turns him on a bit. He always loves to see April, proper, angelic April Kepner, get out of her shell and let it loose. Probably because it reminds him of one of the best nights of his life in San Francisco, and because the only times April swears otherwise is during sex. Really, really good sex. Like the sex they could be having right now if the driver in front of them actually went faster than 20 miles per hour under the speed limit, and is he starting to see the point his angry wife is making?

"Okay fast and furious, why don't I–"

He has to wait until April is finished with her diatribe (her long diatribe, because his wife seems very creative with her use of swear words), and it's only turning him on more and more. Once the offender makes a turn and finally leaves her sight, she turns towards him with a sweet smile on her face, as if nothing happened.

"Anyway, I'll have to pick up Sofia's gift before the party, and– why are you looking at me like that?"