#america was never content with riding the middle

[bklynmusicnerd]

America blowing everything up always felt kind of inevitable, so I'm not really shocked so much as pleasantly surprised that she did what Cory wouldn't do, and called out Jared as being a key part of the power structure that has been weakening Cameron at every turn.

Cory may have convinced the house that he could "control" America, but that was never really sustainable. I'm curious to see how Cirie and Izzy react if it (likely) gets back to them that America might be an actual problem.

So far, America has benefitted from the fact that the same low social capital that leads to people not taking her seriously as an ally, has also crossed over into them not taking her seriously as a potential enemy.

But America is constantly trying to get people to compare notes on Cirie & co. and come together against them. She doesn't want to work with them, she wants to take them down. Their slow-walking to accepting that cause they like Cory, is becoming another blind spot for them.

[xoxiu]

my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter eight table of contents masterlist join the taglist

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline, age gap

“Am I going to have to carry you?” Yoongi was annoyed by Kiwo’s recent antics. She cried and screamed the whole car ride to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and now she refused to leave the car. Yoongi stood in front of the opened backseat door, staring disapprovingly down at Kiwo. 

“Three…” Yoongi spoke. Kiwo gave him a small glance, whining as she pushed herself more against the opposite car door. 

“Two…” The gears turning in Kiwo’s head told her to just give up, but her body just couldn’t move. She was frozen and didn’t want to give in- it had to be her way. Tears once again flooded in her eyes as she gave in.

In this situation, it would never be her way, she realized.

She hadn’t even moved more than an inch towards Yoongi before he reached in and aggressively pulled her out. Yoongi pulled her in tight and whispered in her ear. 

“If you keep this up I’m not afraid to spank your ass in front of Seokjin.” Kiwo felt her body being pulled forward as Yoongi dragged her along by the hand. She wiped away her tears as she followed Yoongi into the apartment building. 

The elevator ride seemed to last forever to Kiwo. She stood in front of Yoongi in the packed elevator, his fingers playing around with her hair and his other hand on her shoulder. Kiwo received a few glances towards her, but she kept her eyes down to hide her presence of tears. It was embarrassing to cry in such a crowded space.

Seokjin’s penthouse was near the top of the complex with a beautiful view of Seoul. Many of their friends hung out at the apartment- everyone had an open door policy to all of their apartments- but Seokjin and Namjoon’s place became the hangout of choice. Yoongi just hoped no one else would be there currently. 

They exited the elevator once they hit the tenth floor, Yoongi still leading Kiwo with a hand grasping her shoulder. Once they reached the right door, Yoongi entered in the passcode and lead Kiwo inside.

”Hyung, we’re here!” Yoongi called out, bending down to take Kiwo’s shoes off for her. Kiwo blushed in response to the gesture, and when Yoongi looked up at her, she violently whipped her head away to hide her rosy face. 

A tall man dressed in plaid pajamas come around the corner and into view. He had a sweet smile on his face as his eyes fell upon Kiwo. 

He looked nice, Kiwo thought. He looked rather friendly and approachable, unlike Yoongi’s intimidating aura. Kiwo avoided his gaze and stared down at her sock clad feet. 

“Aigoo, she is adorable, Yoongs.” Seokjin approached the two near the front entrance, and bent down to be at Kiwo’s height.

”You must be Kiwo,” Seokjin gave a bigger smile when Kiwo finally looked at him. She gave a small smile and wave in return. Whether she was aware of it or not, her body slowly starting to lean more into and behind Yoongi out of anxiety.

“She doesn’t know Korean very well, hyung.” Yoongi stated. He figured he should give the older man a heads up on that important fact, so Kiwo would feel more comfortable around Seokjin. 

“Ah, I see,” Seokjin nodded his head. “Well, Kiwo, I’m Seokjin oppa. I’m actually in the middle of making some cookies and I would be honored to have your help.”

Kiwo couldn’t find any words to say, and just continued to stare at the tall man while leaning into Yoongi. She started picking at her lip with her fingers out of nervousness. 

Yoongi patted her head twice before pulling her hand away from her lips. He noted the newly formed habit and made sure to do something to take care of it. Kiwo had quite the oral fixation, from sucking her thumb to biting her nails to picking at her lip. Yoongi definitely needed to pick up some pacifiers for the young girl. 

“I’ll be back in at least 3 hours, most likely less. I just have a lot of errands to run.” Yoongi placed his finger under Kiwo’s chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“You better behave for Seokjin oppa,” he said. Kiwo lowered her eyes before nodding in agreement. A thumb was brushed against her cheek in approval. 

It would be a long three hours. 

“Do you want to mix or pour in the dry ingredients?” Seokjin asked. Kiwo was very shy and quiet around him, and Seokjin soon realized that the only way to get Kiwo to participate and speak was through carefully worded questions. 

“I…” Kiwo started, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t feel good.”

”Oh?” Seokjin put the mixing bowl down and bent down to be level with Kiwo. He placed a hand on her forehead and felt the warmth from her skin. He could nearly feel her head throbbing in pain. Her skin was pale and clammy, and eyes were clouded and foggy. 

Seokjin ran a hand through Kiwo’s care, clicking his tongue out of pity. 

“Let’s go lay on the couch while I finish up baking, okay?” Kiwo nodded. She followed Jin’s lead into the living room before sitting on the couch. Seokjin handed her the remote to the television before excusing himself back into the kitchen. 

Pulling out his phone, Seokjin leaned his back against the counter as he dialed Yoongi’s number. Yoongi picked up the call quickly and with a sigh. 

“It’s not even been an hour, what did she do?” Yoongi spoke. 

“Nothing, Yoongi. She doesn’t feel well and is running a bit of a fever. Are you almost done or should I just let her rest?”

Yoongi have a sigh. Kiwo seemed okay and healthy when he dropped her off, he could only wonder what made her feel sick out of nowhere. He closed his eyes in thought before responding. 

“Let her rest for now. I’ll be there in under an hour.” 

Once the call had ended, Yoongi looked in his cart at the items he threw in there. Lots of clothes Yoongi found rather cute, shower supplies, various fluffy blankets, four pacifiers, and a soft stuffed frog for Kiwo to cuddle. There was still a lot to buy as Yoongi continued his stroll, adding things as he saw fit. 

He had hit the electronics department last, wanting to buy her a Nintendo Switch and some games to keep her entertained. While it was almost out of necessity, it was also due to her currently being ill. Yoongi felt bad for her, and just wanted to spoil her to make her feel better. 

Yoongi began his walk out of the store until an item in the pet section caught his eye. It was a large pet cage, with the display being nearly his own height tall. He gave a small, devilish smile as he eyes the cage alongside the collars, leashes, and dog beds further down the aisle. 

[kingjaffejoffer]

I’m 33 & I’m really starting to enjoy the science & art of boxing, it’s fucking amazing it’s basically chess, your adjusting, manipulating your opponent, so much going on in real time. I want to know how does the sport of boxing grow? Because you watch nba, nfl, there’s so much young fans in the stand. UFC has their fan base & create so much communities and commentaries for mixed martial art fighters. There was a period growing up lower middle class, before YouTube where I could never watch a boxing match. I genuinely feel like boxing has a core of fans who love the craft so much that they take their own personal time to creat the content that the boxing organization should be doing. I watched Emmanuel Augustus vs a young Floyd Mayweather and the experience was so good with commentary and what was happening without ever really slowing down the fight made a world of difference. I think the boxing world is held together by big boxing fans who put their kids into boxing young not because the kids choose the sport themselves per se (my opinion)

Yeah you're right to an extent, but like most things the culprit is capitalism.

The ufc has a virtual monopoly on MMA in America. They're a singular promotion who promote their brand and talent.

Boxing is made up of many different promoters, sanctioning bodies, and fighters who are all representing different interests.

The ufc has a vested financial interest in planting seeds that are good for the brand as a whole, long term.

Boxing is essentially made up of mercenaries who work together on a per-event basis with little to no things done with long term effects in mind.

On the surface that all sounds like the UFC is better and boxing is worse. But boxers make more money and have more control over their careers.

The UFC is following the NFL model to an extent, everything is about the brand and the athletes are treated as expendable. The ufc will spot a young talented fighter and ride them long and hard where they're completely used up by their late 20s with nothing but a broken body to show for it.

The UFC is actively anti-union and punishes fighters who try to encourage unionizing.

The UFC actively punishes fighters who make negotiations hard by demanding more money from a sport that doesn't care about them.

They can do that because they're basically a monopoly.

Boxers aren't as constrained and can hop over to a rival promoter who will pay them more.

There's pros and cons to both sports

[malka-lisitsa]

Merlin has been chasing Katherine for months now. The immortal Warlock is more trying to stop her from destroying more people's lives. As he walks through the center town, he can tell from the stares that the Brit is an outsider. A war is breaking out, Merlin has heard the whispers as he sees Katherine leaving a shop. Merlin has never understood Woman's fashion. The boat ride to America was brutal and he hated to leave his post from Avalon's lake but Freya had told him that Arthur wasn't ready, so he was free to leave and explore.

A rumor lead him to this small town. A rumor but it was a lead. Merlin saw too much of Morgana in the lady. Vampire or not, Merlin has never been good with woman. His mission is to save people, always has been since Arthur's death. He knows there are more around, of her kind, which Merlin has never been smart about being subtle.

"Lady Katherine." Merlin calls out harshly, stopping in the middle of the road.

New boots, the best reason to be alive. Happy, and momentarily content, Katherine walked down the block very pleased.

When youre always on the run it really helps to learn how to appreciate the little things. Scheming to stay alive gets so tiering after a while, but boots? Boots make up for some of it.

Minding her own business, texting Stefan something innappropriate, she heard what could only be someone from the tudors addressing... probably her? Katherine is a common name... Still she stopped and looked around. Gaze landing on some period cosplayer, Katherine's brow rose.

"Yea thats.... Nope." Shes only really talking to herself, and just as quickly as she had stopped to see, the doppelganger is on the move again. Faster. The last thing she needs is whatever that was about to be- shes trying to keep a low profile after all.

[thats-soo-olive]

about olive.

name. olive soo pronouns. she/her age. 36 gender. cis woman occupation. front desk at seascape hotel // professional mermaid (part-time) hometown. aurora bay cities lived in. aurora bay // ???? (intentionally vague for now for plotting flexibility) languages. english // korean // very basic asl likes. the ocean // sewing // witchy stuff dislikes. being late // plastic waste // cooking

BIO.

(death, abuse.)

Olive was born to Jin-ho and Donna Soo. Her father moved with his family to America when he was a kid, while her mom was adopted from South Korea as a baby. Although Olive is the oldest of the Soo daughters, the age difference between her and Gabrielle was so small that she's always been a big sister. Growing up in a beautiful ocean town, Olive was happy. She was drawn to the ocean, and would easily spend all day at the beach if her parents let her. If she wasn't at the ocean, she was at the city pool (or at a richer friend's house who had their own pool). She loved swimming and being in the water

When Olive was nine, her parents agreed to let her start swimming competitively. She absolutely loved it! As she got older, she joined her middle school swim team and then the high school team. She enjoyed challenging herself to beat her own best times, and the friendly competition between her and other swimmers (even if sometimes she maybe got carried away in the competition...)

Growing up, she was always told that she was mature for her age, or wise beyond her years, or any other cliches that meant she got good grades and didn't act out. As a teenager, she felt frustrated to then still be treated like a kid when she felt she was practically an adult. And while she still loved living in a coastal town, she had never experienced anything else.

(content: abuse, grooming) She befriended an older guy, a friend of a friend who had graduated Aurora Bay a couple years before she started her freshman year. He was twenty one and would buy her alcohol, and take her on adventures outside of their small town. When the abuse started, she didn't understand what was happening or why it made her confused and sad.

(content: alcohol and drug use) To cope with what was happening, Olive had two escapes; parties and the water. She spent most of her time training and when that didn't work, she'd get drunk or high. A lot of the time, her parents had no idea where she was for hours at a time. This led to a lot of fighting between them and Olive, and they had no idea what to do with her behavior or why she was acting out.

Olive started to see the consequences of her partying in the pool as well. Her times and scores at swim meets weren't bad by any means, but she knew they weren't her best. So while she didn't completely stop, she cut out the drug use and eased up on the alcohol. Getting a swim scholarship to get away from her messy life in Aurora Bay was the goal, and she put everything into that.

And she succeeded! Getting a full ride to swim for a Division II school far away from California, she left Aurora Bay. In college, she had a well rounded swim/class/social life balance and she was thriving. But as she got a clearer head, she realized she hadn't exactly been the daughter or sister of the year for almost a decade. She barely talked to her family at all after her freshman year of college, and she'd left Gabrielle completely on her own. Her intentions had been good, she had just wanted to keep her younger sister safe, but she knew that wasn't the way Gabrielle had experienced events. She wanted to reach out and explain everything and apologize, but she also felt like that was selfish. It was clear from social media posts that Gabrielle was doing great, and Olive didn't want to ruin that peace.

During college, she started going to anime conventions with some of her friends. And then she started doing group cosplays with them. She'd always liked sewing, and making challenging costumes for herself and her friends was fun. And then she got into cosplay competitions and found she really enjoyed it. Her costumes always performed well at cons, and she learned how to style wigs, improve makeup skills, style props, model and act in-character. While she wasn't famous, her cosplay page on social media had a good sized following. But she retired from the scene in her early 30s, as she got tired of all the con drama.

About a year after she had officially quit cosplay, she got a message from an old con friend. Her friend's daughter was turning four and they wanted to throw her a Disney princess birthday party. They knew Olive had a Mulan cosplay and offered to pay her to come to the party in character and costume. Not wanting to say no to an adorable kid and needing the money, she agreed to do it. This led to more people asking her to do birthday parties in different costumes, and she enjoyed still having an outlet to use her cosplay skills.

The jump to professional mermaid was gradual yet still somehow unexpected. She always thought it would be fun to play mermaid. It looked so pretty and interesting, and she had an extensive background as a swimmer (and a licensed scuba diver). After a few glasses of wine one night, she finally bit the bullet and bought the tail she'd been eyeing for a year. From there, the mermaid costumes took on a life of their own. She bought new wigs, spent hours trying out different waterproof make up looks, and found herself booking less and less general costumed looks and more mermaid-based stuff

A lot of professional mermaid gigs are educational jobs about marine life and plastic waste in the ocean, so she became more passionate about the ocean as a positive side-effect of her new hobby. Admittedly, this made her a little home sick for the first time. Sometimes she thought about going back and starting to patch things up with her family. She didn't really have any bad blood with them, she just...turned around and never looked back even though they had been good to her, and she was regretting it now.

(content: terminal illness, death) She wasn't expecting Gabrielle to suddenly contact her after so long of not speaking, but she soon found out why. Gabrielle was extremely sick and didn't think she had much time left. Initially, Olive didn't believe anything would happen to her sister. She flew back to Aurora Bay, only planning on staying for a few days, but then she saw how sick Gabrielle really was and extended her visit. The two siblings made up, and Olive is grateful they had that opportunity, but is still upset she lost out on most of her sister's life. She feels it's entirely her fault. She also feels like it was her job to keep Gabrielle safe and she failed to do that, even though she knows there's nothing she could have done to prevent her sister's illness.

Olive soon realized that not having a sibling anymore didn't mean she was done being an older sister. Gabrielle had left behind a young daughter and a husband who was now trying to navigate being a single father while grieving. She didn't have to think very long before she decided she'd go back to the city she'd been living in, pack up her life, and go back to her hometown to help Kaede and Layla.

misc info.

She's never tried to go full time with the mermaid thing for a few reasons. It's a huge career risk, and she thinks she enjoys it more now as a hobby than she ever would if she was relying on it to keep a roof over her head

Olive's never really been career oriented in general. She'll do whatever job sounds most fun to her and pays well enough to keep her satisfied

Got a job working the front desk of Seascape Hotel because she had relevant job and life experience, and because she wants to feel like she's in White Lotus minus all of the dead bodies.

Halloween is her favorite holiday

She's pagan, with a specialty in reading tarot cards, but she also likes candle magic and crystals

She's pretty upbeat and kind, but has a big competitive side that can get kind of ugly

Has a habit of talking too fast

wanted connections.

childhood friends. olive grew up in aurora bay so characters around 34-38 in age that are also aurora natives could have been some of her friends growing up

people she knew in the outside world. calling it the outside world makes aurora bay sound like a cult but whatever. i intentionally didn't say where she lived after she left aurora bay to leave it open for some connections. former classmates, previous roommates, old flames, the sky is the limit

con friends. olive went to anime conventions all around the country, so she made friends in tons of different cities.

beach friends. people she hangs out with at the beach, because you better believe she's spending a lot of time there now that she's back!

[killerlookz]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | Eddie Munson x F! Reader (NSFW)

description: (yes the title is from a pierce the veil lyric i was emo in middle school, okay?") After a near-half of your last summer break before college is wasted doing absolutely nothing, you've become fedup with the monatonous days, and now you're desperate for some excitement. Luckily, for you, that excitement seems to come in the form of your out-of-town neighbor's pool, and your boyfriend-Eddie Munson.

ALSO HIII I WROTE THIS PRE VOL2 RELEASE.... SO THERE ARE NO VOL 2 SPOILERS!!!!

content: smut, 18+ ONLY! MDNI. tresspassing, allusions to drugs, skinnydipping, general teenage shenanigans, grinding, fingering, pwp but like very soft and romantic pwp.

word count: 5301

"I think we live in the most boring town in America," You throw yourself backwards, your body bouncing lightly as your back flops onto your mattress, "No- scratch that, I think we live in the most boring town in the world."

"Oh come on, it can't be that boring, I'm here." Your boyfriend replies from beside you. You roll your head to the side to look at him, your faces now dangerously close together,

"Eddie-" You start, "You're seriously going to tell me you don't think Hawkins is the most boring town in the universe."

Eddie smiles, his dusty pink lips parting to bare his teeth, and a small chuckle escapes his mouth,

"No, you're right," His mouth closes, forming a smirk as his lips tilt to the side, "Hawkins fucking blows."

A barely audible laugh escapes the two of you before your bedroom falls silent, the only noises left looming in the humid mid-july air is the repetitive chirping of crickets. The sound drove you up the walls every night as Hawkins fell silent, as a child, the sound was an omen of the summer- those droning chirps were the soundtrack to playing with sparklers on your friends lawns, late-night bike rides, and spending your entire allowance on ice cream. But now that you were older, as the moon fell on Hawkins, and the crickets began to sing their dreadful song, they only served as a reminder to your eternal, incessant bordem.

You thought life was supposed to get more interesting as you got older, as you gained new freedoms, and new friends, but that never seemed to be the case for you. A month passed graduation, and still, this summer seemed to have nothing to offer you. You'd spent the last four weeks sleeping until way too late in the afternoon, before haphazardly getting yourself done-up to see Eddie- the two of you would probably smoke some weed and then have sex, sometimes at your house, sometimes in his trailer, or the back of his van, maybe even on that rickety old park table in the woods if you two were too stoned to walk.

Of course, you loved Eddie, you love Eddie- and there's no person in the universe you'd rather spend your last summer before college with- but you just wished it had been under better circumstances. Circumstances that weren't so fucking boring.

You stared at Eddie as you racked your brain, focusing in on his soft, deep brown eyes while your mind reeled just looking for something to do. Your mind raced, and raced, and raced until- got it! Your lips quirk to the side,

"You know, Eddie," Your eyes meet his with an intensity that you rarely gave to anyone, "My neighbors are on vacation."

"Okay..." He lets out a breathy chuckle, "And?"

"Aaaand... they have a pool."

Eddie's eyes widen a little as his lips up turn in a smile, "You're not suggesting we break in, are you?" He says, feigning an innocence you know he's in no way in possession of.

"No," You scoff, scrunching up your face, "Break in? Never... only... just...borrowing the pool."

Eddie laughs, "You're too cute, my little rebel, huh?" He raises his hand, placing his large palm against your face, gently stroking the soft flesh of your cheek with the calloused pad of his thumb. Eddie clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Tsk, tsk, tsk- what have I done to you?" He pouts.

"Oh!" You proclaim with dramatics, "Eddie Munson, you've ruined me!" You place your hand over where Eddie's lies on your cheek, "It's true what the papers have been saying! Those boys with long hair, and torn up clothes that listen to that- oh-so-scary demonic satan music, and play that evil evil board game, are nothing but bad news, they will prey on your children and turn them towards the devil!" You take your hand off of Eddie's and flail it outwards in a dramatic fashion.

Eddie bares his teeth once more in a wide grin, the two of you laughing at the pure ridiculousness of the conspiracies that had been thrown around about metalheads and Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie's hand slips from your face down to your waist,

"C'mere," He says, residual laughter still left in his voice. By your waist, Eddie pulls you closer to him, while also doing his part by inching his body towards you. "You're fucking adorable, you know that?"

As your bodies near closer, you dip your head down slightly, letting it rest against Eddie's chest. You nudge your forehead against the soft fabric of his T-shirt, mumbling, "Mhm."

"You don't actually want to break into your neighbors pool, do you?"

You lift your head from where it resides against Eddie's chest, staring up at his jaw, "Sure I do." You squirm in Eddie's grasp, lifting yourself up so your faces were level once more, "You don't?"

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, "No-I just, your neighbors might not be home, but your parents are. I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"Babe," You scoff lightheartedly, "A bomb could go off and it wouldn't wake my parents, how do you think you've never gotten caught in here?"

"You're right." Eddie lifts an eyebrow, a hint of slyness present in his face, "We usually get pretty loud, huh? Especially you."

"Shut up, Edward." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Oh-ho-ho, breaking out the full name, what are you, my mommy?"

"You wish, Munson."

"Whatever." Eddie mumbles, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, threading through your hair, and pushing your head closer to him. Eddie places a few obnoxiously loud kisses against your hairline, "You're lucky you're cute."

"Yeah, you too." You giggle when Eddie's hair falls in your face as he presses kisses to your head.

"Okay," Eddie backs away from you, "Your parents are covered. But I'll be dammed if you think I'm swiming in my boxers- no way am I putting my jeans back on over wet underwear."

"Then take them off, silly." You bat your hand at his chest.

"Skinny dipping?" Eddie asks, "I really have ruined you."

"Pssh," You huff, "No you haven't, c'mon, Eddie, it'll be fun."

"You'll be naked too, right?"

"I mean-yeah-I guess." You furrow your brows, "That's like kind of the whole point."

"Let's do it."

"God," You laugh, "You're such a pervert."

"Me? The pervert?" Eddie's eyes widening, "Says the girl who just told me to go swimming without my boxers on."

"Mhm," You hum, placing your palms face down on the mattress and lifting yourself up, "That's me. I'm like, a total pervert." After sitting up you turn around, bringing your body to face Eddie, and reaching out a hand, ushering him to get up.

"Good to see you finally admitting it," Eddie takes ahold of your hand with both of his, pulling himself up, "You little freak." He smiles as he sits up straight, before continuing to lean forward, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You ruffle your hands through your hair misplacing the strands on your head, and a soft smile falls upon your lips as you watch Eddie get up from your bed. His tall stature and dark clothes seemed awkwardly out of place in your small, soft-palleted room. He gazes around the room for a moment, his eyes widened eyes wandering almost as if he'd never seen those four walls before. The contrast between your boyfriend and your room made you giggle, but only softly. Truth was, Eddie wasn't completely lying when he said he'd ruined you, he had, at least a little bit. You were never exactly a goodie-two-shoes, but, you did a good enough job at keeping up the act, until Eddie. He had a quality about him, he made you feel bad, it was exciting- meeting Eddie helped you shed absolutely any and all reservations about who you were. You felt fearless with him, and it was thrilling.

"Are we just going to stand here or what, sweetheart?" Eddie asked, a hint of mockery twinkling somewhere in his voice.

"Yeah," You pull your mouth into a tight smile, "Help me up?" You raise your arms in front of you, wiggling your fingers at Eddie.

"Oh, of course." He lets out a light chuckle, "Anything for you, dear." Eddie grabs ahold of your hands- gripping them tightly as he helps lift you up from your spot on your bed. Your bodies land close together as you stand up, Eddie's hands still tugging at your own way past the point of you being stood up.

"Thanks Eds," You smile as you try to find your footing. "You're the best." You place a small kiss to Eddie's cheek, causing his mouth to widen in a goofy-looking grin.

"Aww," Eddie starts, feigning embarrassment, "You're just saying that 'cause it's true."

You lift unravel your hands from Eddie's grasp, and hold them against his face before placing your lips on his in a soft kiss. Eddie's hands find your waist, holding you lightly at your lower back as he puckers his lips, kissing you right back. After a few small, shared kisses you lightly tap Eddie's cheeks with both your hands,

"Let's go!" You quickly work your way out of Eddie's loose grasp, heading for your door, paying little mind to how much noise you made as you flung open the creaky wood. Eddie followed suit, tip-towing downstairs after you, trying his best to quiet his heavy steps as- he already wasn't supposed to be there. Still, the floorboards creaked and moaned under your combined body weight, Eddie's face was white as snow, looking like he'd seem a ghost, cringing with every step he took. "Come on Eds," You whisper harshly, "Stop being a pussy."

Eddie frowned as he finished the trek down the stairs. It was a quick walk through your darkened home to your back door, and you carefully slid open the glass, just wide enough for the two of you to get out. The air around you is thick, the mid-July humidity is nearly claustrophobic- making you feel more like you were standing in water rather than in open air.

"I am not a pussy," Eddie huffed as you closed the sliding glass door behind you.

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow, "Could have fooled me."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a real pain in the ass sometimes?" Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he watches you walk away from him.

"Oh, shush," You turn around, batting a hand towards Eddie, "You loooove me."

Eddie's footsteps patter a little harder against the wood of your patio as he picks up his gait to catch up with you. He's quick to meet your pace, his chest bumping against your back, causing you to stumble forward before he wraps his arms tight around your stomach. Eddie draws you close, his forearms pressing into your flesh,

"That's right I do," Eddie breaths out onto your neck, his breath even more ardent than the air outside, yet- you welcome this heat against your skin. "So much." Eddie's lips found their way to your neck, latching onto a soft patch of skin. You roll your head back at the feeling, resting against his shoulder,

"I love you too Eds," A soft smile grazes your lips, "So much more."

"You are such a little liar." Eddie scoffs, smoothing a hand down your side. "You know that?" He pokes a finger into the side of your abdomen, causing your body to flinch.

"No way," You giggle, "It's true," You tilt your head, your eyes facing straight towards Eddie's neck, "I'm head over heels for you Eddie. Head. Over. Heels- like the Tears For Fears song!"

"Of course you are," Eddie chuckles, his breath tickling your neck, "You're always head over heels," Eddie places a finger at your temple, "Head- over..." Eddie drags his finger down your cheek, your neck, and as far as it will go down your arm before he points at the ground, "Heels."

A small breath of air escapes out your nose, "Smartass," You scoff, rolling your eyes as you break free from Eddie's grasp. Your feet patter lightly against the patio as you skip your way closer to the fence separating your backyard from your neighbors. Your head swings back and forth, and your mumbling to yourself, singing, "Something happens and I'm head over heels, I never find out, 'til I'm head over he-e-eels." Silently cursing yourself for getting that earworm of a song stuck in your own head.

Short, freshly cut blades of grass prick at your feet as you step off of the patio and you begin to take light steps forward to avoid the uncomfortable tickle. Eddie follows in close pursuit, not focusing much on catching up to you, rather instead staying behind to watch your antics.

The wooden white picket fence that separates yours and your neighbor's yards isn't that high, falling just around your stomach, but you stand, and stare at it, debating if you can clear it by attempting to swing a leg over it.

"Need help?" Eddie asks, coming up besides you.

"Oh, yeah," You smile. "Please?"

"Here," Eddie starts, bending down a little for better leverage, before grabbing you around your stomach, "I got you." Your feet begin to lift off the ground as Eddie pulls you up. You lift your legs simultaneously, high enough so you can clear the fence, before Eddie walks a little closer, holding you over the fence so you can jump down from his arms and hit the ground safely. "You good, babe?"

"Mhm,"

Eddie's grip loosens and you're able to wiggle from his arms, landing in the neighbors yard without a hitch. Eddie is able to clear the fence much easier than you, standing up at his toes and using all his arm strength to hoist himself up and over the wooden slats. You waste little time running towards the large, in-ground pool that stood before you, not waiting for Eddie to even catch his balance before you start skipping towards the water, lifting your shirt up in the process, and throwing it somewhere on the grass. Your shorts were the second do go, pausing for only a moment to slide the loose fabric down your legs before kicking them off behind you. As you drew nearer to the edge of the pool, your stride slowed to a walk, and you reached around to your back, unclasping the tight restraint of your bra and tossing it off. The last to go were your panties, which you waited to take off until your feet just about hung off pavement that surrounded the water before you. You quickly threw a glance behind you, looking to see if Eddie was watching you, and he was, his eyes glued to your body and a smirk stuck on his lips as he walked towards the pool. You smirked before bending over, sticking your fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulling them down the length of your legs.

"Are you trying to tease me?" Eddie called, catching onto your antics right away. Your panties fell around your ankles, and Eddie got a good view of you now before you quickly stood up. Oddly enough, despite being completely naked out in the open- you didn't feel even a wrinkle of hesitance, or insecurity- no, it was exciting, doing something you weren't supposed to be. Besides, it wasn't anything Eddie hasn't seen before.

"Never!" You say sternly, kicking your panties to the side. Only a moment later you're diving head first right into the pool. The coolness of the water is refreshing as it splashes against your face when you go under. Soon you're fully submerged, and your body feels lightened as you flick your legs, pushing you further across the length of the pool. You swim to about where you can stand, lowering your legs until your feet touch the rough concrete below you, before standing up straight.

The once humid air is now cold on your wet face as you whip your head around to face Eddie, rubbing the water from your eyes,

"Hurry up!" You whine at Eddie who has barely even taken his shirt off.

"Slow your roll babe!" Eddie shouts back, "Why do you want me naked so bad?"

You sigh, walking against the force of the water, closer to the edge of the pool where Eddie resided. Your feet slowly lifted off the pavement as you got into waters where you could no longer stand. Your arms pushed back and forth, keeping your head above the water as you neared Eddie.

"Why wouldn't I want you naked, Eddie?" You grin, looking up at his half- undressed figure.

"Oh, yeah?" He lifts an eyebrow, beginning to unbuckle his belt. The familiar clinking of the metal rang in your ears, and like pavlov's dog to a bell, the scraping sound sent a heat to your lower stomach, and a pulse between your thighs. His lightly tattooed arms tugged at the leather, and the veins that striped his forearms popped out as his hands balled into fists around the belt.

The sight made your head feel fuzzy, like your brain was filled with nothing but TV static, your jaw dropping slightly as you watched Eddie pull his ripped up jeans down to his ankles, exposing his thick, hairy thighs.

"I don't know about this babe-" His face scrunches up as he steps out of his jeans.

Eddie's voice somewhat snaps you out of your sex-fueled trance, you close your mouth and swallow thickly.

"I mean, what if like, my dick is too big and it make me sink to bottom of the pool or something?"

You blink up at him a few times, "Shut up Eddie," You flick some water in his direction causing him to flinch.

"I don't hear you denying the fact I have a big dick!"

You huff and playfully roll your eyes at Eddie,

"I don't know- I guess I'd have to see it again to make sure."

"You've got me there," He said, slipping his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. It doesn't take him long to pull the fabric down his thighs, exposing his mostly soft cock. But, Eddie doesn't give you much time to look until, he too, is diving into the water.

His dive makes a large splash before you, water droplets flying at your face as he goes under, and you squint, rubbing your eyes to rid the drops from your vision. Though, the distraction of the water in your eyes serves well for Eddie as he swims towards you. He reaches forwards, both of his arms coming to wrap around your waist, tight, before he pulls you under with him. A small, startled gasp escapes you before you hold your breath to go under. Slowly, you begin to open your screwed-shut eyes, a hazy picture of Eddie appearing before you through the distorted lens of the water. His hair floats around him wildly, and he points a stupid-looking smile towards you. And despite him nearly drowning you, your heart cant help but to quicken at the sight of him. Still holding you at your waist, he pulls you closer to him, pressing a kiss against your lips, the resistance of the water, and your lack of oxygen makes it a struggle to kiss back- your lungs tightening in your chest- but still you make an effort to press your lips back on Eddie's for as long as you can.

You and Eddie come up for a breath nearly at the same time, stifled laughs falling from your mouths between deeps inhales.

"You are an, ass Eddie Munson." You huff.

"You think so?" He asks, nearing you. His gaze is intense, salacious even, as a single eyebrow raises.

"Mhm," You say, backing away from Eddie slightly, worried he may try and tug you under again. Yet, you're pleasantly surprised when he reaches for you and does nothing more than tug you to him.

Eddie holds you at your lower back, his forearm pressed firmly against your skin. You wrap your legs around his waist, and lean forward, pushing your bare bodies close. Eddie brushes his hand against your cheek, and you lean into the rough skin of his palm, smiling.

"God," He sighs, shaking his head, "You're so beautiful." His soft, brown eyes look deep into yours, denoting a tender seriousness to his remark. A pink glow shines from under your skin, dusting your face with a coy blush.

"Oh, Eddie," Your arms snake behind his neck, holding onto him loosely. Eddie's usually lively curls form flat against his head, his bangs splayed out on his forehead in every which way. As he blinked, small water droplets fell off his long eyelashes, and down his cheeks. You were sure at this point your irises had turned a bright red and melted into hearts as you ogled at your boyfriend with the most lovesick stare.

You tighten your legs around Eddie as you lean a little farther forwards to give him a kiss. As your lips meet Eddie's he's immediately capturing you into something salacious. Your eyes fall closed, and your head tilts as your lips work against Eddie's, his blatant affection only helping to add to the pulsing between your thighs.

As the seconds passed, the kiss only grew hungrier and hungrier, Eddie's hand now gripping your cheek tight as he pressed his face into yours. Things, really, started to get hot and heavy when Eddie's tongue finally pushed passed your lips, finding its way into your mouth, brushing against your tongue. You moaned at the feeling, somehow, wanting Eddie even closer. And your neediness was aparent as your hips rocked forwards, almost involuntarily first, but the bucking of your hips created a friction between Eddie's skin and yours that you craved. So, you continued, bucking your hips against Eddie, completely purposefully at this point. From where you were situted, with each thrust forwards, your clit brushed against Eddie's hip bone, which stuck out from his slender frame. It seemed like an odd place to try and relieve the throbbing of your cunt, but you were needy, desperate to please yourself in whatever way you can.

You can feel Eddie smirk into the kiss, and you just know, what your desperation is doing to his ego. Still, he lets you continue on with grinding your hips against him without a word. And you're grateful Eddie is sparing you from the embarrassment of your arousal, at least for now.

Mid thrust, Eddie pulls you closer forwards, his forearm tightening on your back- which only works to deeper push you against his bony hip, causing you to moan out into the kiss as your clit rocks hard against him.

"Now, that's what I like to hear," Eddie says, pulling back from the kiss. You can barely stand to face him, instead, your head droops down and falls against his neck. "Awh, don't be shy." Eddie's hand finds its way into your wet hair, tangling in the heavy strands at the back of your head. He tilts his head to the side, craning his neck to place a kiss at the back of your head.

You don't respond, too embarrassed and desperate to form any coherent thoughts, instead you place small, gentle kisses against one spot on Eddie's neck, repeatedly puckering your lips again, and again above the same patch of skin. Still, despite the embarrassment you can't quite bring yourself to quit the incessant rocking of your hips, too obsessed with the wave of pleasure that shoots through you with each and every thrust up and down.

"There's no need to be so embarrassed sweetheart," Eddie coos, his fingertips lightly massaging your head, "Feels good doesn't it?"

"Mhm," You mumble against his neck.

"I bet," He smiles, continuing to smooth his fingers against your head, "Want me to touch you baby?"

"Mhm," You respond once again, not looking up.

"Come on, where's that loudmouthed girl that was here just a moment ago, do you want me to touch you?" Eddie asks again.

You roll your head to the side, lifting your lips from Eddie's neck. Eddie's hand slowly falls from your head as you shift your position.

"Yes, Eddie." You finally muster up.

"There's that pretty voice of yours," Eddie grins, "Where do you want me to touch you sweetheart? Tell me, what'll make you feel good?"

You sigh, not in the mood to use words, despite your familiarity with Eddie, sometimes you struggled with voicing your own sexual thoughts, instead, opting more for Eddie to take the lead on things. Growing up in a small town, one that often held more conservative views, the idea that girls could be sexual too was one that was taboo, and often rejected, unspoken of. As much as you felt you rarely ever conformed into the town's expectations, it had clearly rubbed off on you somewhere deep in your subconscious, but Eddie often tried to break you out of that thought habit. Telling you, sex wasn't something done to you, but rather, a mutual act, still, despite his gentle attitude and lack of judgement, you still often got a little shy.

You remove one of your arms from around Eddie, and grab at the hand that had fallen from your head. Slowly, you guide his hand through the water, down to where you clung at his hip. You loosened your grip around Eddie's waist, creating space between the two of you before you guided Eddie's hand into that space, brushing his fingertips against your cunt. The slight contact made you shiver, your thighs twitching and your stomach contracting at his touch.

Eddie hums, as his fingers gently glide through your folds, up towards your clit. He then presses a single finger against the swollen nerve, the rough feeling of the calluses on the pad of his fingertips that hard formed from playing guitar- pushing against such a sensitive spot on your body made you whimper as a hot wave of pleasure shot from your inner thighs to your lower stomach.

"There, baby?" He asks, his voice gentle and soft, "Want me to play with your clit?"

"Yes, Eddie." You breath out, your rigid body relaxing into his touch. Eddie smiles, tilting his head to the side so his cheek rests at your hairline. His fingers begin to make gentle circles against your clit, swirling the sensitive bud around. The feeling is instantly pleasureful, much more so than your needy grinding against his hip. You let the pleasure overcome you, closing your eyes as you rest against Eddie's shoulder.

Each swirl of Eddie's finger is a delightful sensation, your body aching for more with each and every gentle movement Eddie makes. The pressure against your clit sends sparks throughout your body, each pleasureful shockwave settling just below your navel as an increased tightening forms in your lower stomach.

You pay little mind to the unrelenting whimpers that fall from your mouth, too caught up in the euphoria to care about the noise you're making. Eddie seems to be enjoying your little sounds, though, humming contently to himself between soft, whispered praises,

"You make such pretty noises, sweetheart. I love making you feel good," Eddie coos, nuzzling his cheek against your forehead.

"Does feel good," You loosely mumble out.

"Good." Eddie grins, continuing to work his finger around your swollen clit. "Can I add a finger inside you?" He asks, tapping two of his free fingers right above your slit.

"Yes-please, Eddie." You nod incessantly, your cheek rubbing harshly against Eddie's shoulder.

"Okay, pretty." He smiles, one finger gently toys around your entrance, circling around the hole before finally dipping in.

"Ah," You whimper as his long, slender finger enters you. You stretch around him, but not greatly, nothing you aren't used to, so the sensation is instantly one of pleasure. Eddie bends his finger slightly as he fits knuckle deep inside you, exploring your silky walls. You can feel that despite being in the pool, you're a different kind of soaked. Eddie begins to life his finger out slightly, before thrusting it back in, over, and over again. The repeated action makes your chest heave up and down, and your back arch. No matter how many times you and Eddie got intimate the feeling was always overwhelming, the way he could fill you with such pleasure with even just his fingers made you dizzy.

You rocked your hips in time with Eddie's thrusts of his finger, deepening the sensation of both his finger inside your cunt, but also the pressure on your clit. It was driving you wild, and you knew that the hot, tightening coil that knotted itself inside you would not be able to get much tighter before it became too much and broke loose.

"More," You beg breathlessly as your hips pushed against Eddie's finger, desperate to acheive your orgasm.

"Want me to add another finger?" Eddie asked, pausing only slightly,

"Please," You nod once more. Eddie was quick as one more of his fingers found your entrance, thrusting in forwards with the one that was already inside you. A deep, breathy sigh left your lips as he stretched you even more. "So good," you moan at the feeling as both of his finger worked against the soaked, silky walls of your cunt.

It wasn't long after he added a second finger that everything became too much. Your legs began to twitch, shaking almost uncontrollably against Eddie's waist. Your moans became a little louder, and more high pitched as you felt the heat inside you reach its boiling point.

"Eddie- I'm-I'm so close." You warn.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks, picking up the pace, urging you forwards towards your orgasm, "Good, let go, c'mon, cum all over my fingers baby."

It was like you were under a spell, destined to do exactly whatever Eddie said, because as soon as he began to encourage you to finish, the knot inside you snapped, unraveling itself. Your body writhed against Eddie, the muscles of your cunt spasming as your released pooled around Eddie's fingers.

"Fuck- E-Eddie- I'm-" You whine.

"That's it,' Eddie cuts you off, gently urging you, "Let go baby, let go."

And let go you did. You took a deep breath in as Eddie worked you through the remaining pulses of your orgasm, your legs nearly locking around Eddie's waist as your cunt clenched and unclenched around Eddie's fingers a few more times.

Slowly, but surely, your heavy breathing slowed, your legs loosened around Eddie's waist, and your eyelids flickered opened. Eddie's fingers slipped out of you, making you whine as the ends of his fingertips fell from your entrance. Eddie immediately put his fingers in his mouth, hallowing his cheeks as he cleaned your release off of him, humming contently to himself.

You stared up at Eddie in awe, post-orgasm euphoria flooding your brain, making you even more lovestruck than before. Eddie relased his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, before lifting his head from where it laid on yours.

"You were right, this was fun." Eddie smiles returning his hand to support you at your lower back.

"But you didn't even c-" You protested.

"Shhh..." Eddie shook his head, "Still fun to make my pretty girl happy."

You smile at the compliment, his pretty girl, that was you alright. You tightened your arms around Eddie, snuggling yourself into the side of his neck,

"-Love you so much." You mumble into his skin. Eddie's arms fully wrap around you, holding you in an embrace,

"I love you too- even more."

[peachysamu]

“I’ve missed this.” She happily sighs, a light flush on her cheeks. Red by intoxication, alcohol and love.

Iwaizumi sighs next to her, burrowing his chin further into his jacket to protect himself from the night’s sting, a content hum across his lips as he agrees.

And it’s probably the way he reminds her of goodbyes does she say more. How whenever she thinks of him, she remembers the inch between her fingers and his as they sat on a park bench the day before his flight to America. How the breeze had whisked her hair to the side, but how she wished it had swayed her further to the right and given her the strength to lay her head on his shoulder, brave the gap to place her palm over his. Maybe then the distance would have never grown from inches to miles, and instead of losing him to America, they would have been bound together by laced pinkies and promises.

“I’ve missed you.” She says, loud enough to traverse the two feet of distance between them. It’s funny how inches turn to feet turn to miles. But he feels so close right now, closer than he’s ever been in a while, and she feels young. Having danced the night away, her body is just as limber as she used to be, maybe even more. She can run miles if that is all he needs for her to be by his side again.

But the air stills when she catches him breathless, and she wishes she hadn’t had the courage to look. Shock in his eyes, it quickly amalgams into pity, and the look reminds her that it is not just she and Iwaizumi. The sound of laughter, a hard-shelled bouncer, she remembers she is outside a club in the middle of Tokyo, waiting for a ride home. Two people brush past her shoulders, and she wonders how many more people can fit in between the space that seems to permanently exist between them.

“Hey!” You shout. She sees him turn immediately at the sound of your voice.

Pity long gone, attention away from her too, he smiles and bears open an arm as you slide yourself in with Makki and Mattsun in tow.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi looks down at you, even has to back up in just the slightest to gather a better glance at your face. “You found us.”

“Sorry we took so long,” then you jut your finger over to your companions, “Makki had a mishap.”

Said guy pats his stomach with a little rub and a slimy grin, “I’m better now.”

And Iwaizumi takes his palm, cradles your cheek, bringing you closer until inches turn into centimeters into millimeters and you’re deep in a kiss. Red on your cheeks, love.

“Hello to you too,” You simper.

He grins, “Hey.”

Nothing can protect her from the night sting.

You remind Iwaizumi of hellos, and it’s too bad he reminds her of goodbyes.

A/n: in my head, this happens in the english-speaking reader x uci! Iwa universe and this was not the blurb I had in mind but it’s the one that wrote itself. Yes, Iwa does leave a potential lover behind :( only to come back with someone new

[mysticalrambling]

Hi this is mine request, y/n and chris (evans) are married and the have 2 kids, Emma and Jason, and y/n takes Emma to get there nails and hair done they have a girls day , while the boys a a boys day at home, and when y/n and Emma comes home, the boys have cooked dinner for the girls and later that night the have a family movie night, in matching pyjama's

A/N: I loved the plot line and I was happy to write about it. This is what I came up with and I might have added a few more things to the plot line. I love dad Chris Evans and I would love to write more about him. Hope you guys like it and please tell me what you think about it.

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Family Time (C.E)

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master list)

Warnings: None. Fluff all the way.

Summary: dad! Chris Evans x reader. Chris and the reader spends the whole day with their family. They enjoy the free day with their children and enjoy every moment of it.

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Having two kids was a bittersweet experience for the two of you as they were close in age so they fought a lot. It could be over the simplest of things such as who will eat in which bowl or who will cuddle with daddy at night. Emma and Jason loved each other to death but Jason being the elder was sometimes a little too stubborn. The one thing that always came as a shock to Chris’s family was that your son was a total daddy’s boy and vice versa for your daughter. Your family was always a little different from the others and you loved it.

“Mommy, Jacey pulled on my hair and threw my dollies to the ground.” Fat tears poured down her baby blue eyes as she jumped on your shared bed, effectively waking you both up. Chris just groaned and buried his head in the soft pillows and hands placed on his ears. You didn’t blame him, you both were up pretty late last night because Jason had a severe stomach ache. But he was okay now, considering he was busy annoying his younger sister.

“I will scold him but can you lie down with daddy now so I could freshen up and make you guys breakfast.”

“But I want to stay with you-,” she began to protest and you quickly silenced her by promising a girls only day.

“Besides, you don’t want to cuddle with daddy?” Chris growled playfully and started tickling your three and a half year old daughter. Taking this as your cue to leave, you went to the washroom. Meanwhile, Jason also joined the two of them in bed and lazed around for the whole morning, You prepared pancakes and scrambled eggs that was your family’s favorite breakfast and put out some dog food for Dodger.

“I want dad to feed me today.” Your five year old son declared when Emma sat on Chris’s lap to be pampered by him.

You sensed a fight heading towards the dining room and you quickly tried to diffuse the situation. “You are going to spend the whole day with your father today so let him feed Emma, please.” He huffed out a fine and you cut his pancakes in to little pieces.

“I am thinking of taking James to do some grocery shopping and then spend the whole day at home.” Chris was free today because his shooting does not start until Monday and he wanted to spend as much time possible with his family before he gets busy. He always hated being apart from you guys and would feel bad if he missed out an important step in his children’s life because of his career. You guys were truly blessed to have him in your life.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I will get them both ready for the day and then we can all get on with our day.” Pecking him on the lips, you took the kids to your room and Chris went to clean the dishes.

“Mommy, I don’t want to sit in the booster seat. I want to sit with you.”

“No, baby, it is not safe.” She was hell bent on her request today and you just ran out of patience. Snapping at her, you were instantly filled with guilt because tears pooled in her eyes.

“Darling, I am sorry. Babe, can you drop Emma and I at the parlor before going to the supermarket?”

“Sure. Just let me get my keys.” Sitting in the middle of two booster seats was highly uncomfortable but you would do it for your children. The whole car ride was filled with both the kids babbling about their school and day care respectively. Your husband silently made eye contact with you from the rearview mirror and you knew he was thanking you. “When should I pick you both up?”

“I’ll text you half an hour earlier.” Getting Emma out of her seat, you walked towards your favorite salon. You already knew that Emma wanted a mixture of blue and pink nail polish because colors are gender neutral. Chris always made sure that your kids never follow the obscene rules set by the society.

“We are going to have so much fun, mommy.” The little girl skipped towards the reception and stood on her tip toes to see you make the reservation.

“Baby, do you want to get a haircut as well?”

“Are you getting one?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want one as well.” The receptionist smiled at your daughter’s excitement and complimented her saying that she looked just like Chris. Emma puffed out her cheeks and mumbled, “I look like my mommy.”

“Sorry. You are a carbon copy of your mother. Now, I have you two stationed right next to each other and you have manicure first.”

On the other side, Chris sat his little boy in the trolley and marveled at how big he was slowly getting. He had decided to properly pamper his family today and an Italian dinner was just a start. One of the things that you always craved in both your pregnancies was his pasta pomodoro and he sometimes had to make it at three in the morning to satisfy your cravings.

“Daddy, can I get some cookies?”

“Yes, but only one because we don’t want you to have stomach ache.” Chris quickly finished the grocery shopping and then went in to Cartier. Pampering his girls was his top most priority today so he had already ordered a bracelet for you with all of the family’s birth stones engraved in it, He also ordered the same exact bracelet for his baby girl just in a smaller size. Emma always wanted the same exact things as her mother and Chris always tried to fulfill her wish.

“Can we get them some pretty flowers, as well?” Quickly, he wiped all the cookie crumbles from Jason’s face and agreed with him. They decided on getting them some pink roses because you both loved them.

The moment they arrived at the house, they quickly got to cooking but Chris made sure that he went no way near the stove. He was given the task to open up the spaghetti packet and picking out the red carrots.

Meanwhile, you both got your nails done with you opting for a bright yellow colour. Chris’s favorite colour. You got your hair cut in square layers while Emma just got a nice trim for her dirty blonde hair. Both the kids had inherited Chris’s hair and eyes but the nose and the smile was all you. During the whole time, you and your daughter talked about anything and everything. She talked about the cute boy in her daycare and how she wanted to be his friend but she got a whole circus running around in her tummy.You just chuckled and thought to not tell Chris because he will freak out and bully that poor boy.

After about two hours, Chris and James came to pick you both up and the whole way back, both the kids kept bickering with each other. The moment you opened the front door to your house, your favorite aroma hit you and a blissful sigh escaped your lips. “Have I told you this new look suits you a lot?” Your husband took you in a backside hug while both your munchkins ran towards the dining room.

“Just like a thousand times from the moment you picked us up. Is this dinner a hint?”

“Well, it’s true and maybe it is.” You kissed him slowly on the lips because the prospect of another kid was exciting to say the least.

“Daddy, I want the pasta!” Emma screamed from across the hallway and you both made your way towards them. The dining was all set and the kids were already sitting at their assigned places with their plastic forks in hand. Chris quickly served the food and you all got to eating. Dodger was sitting by your chair and happily munching on his food. Making silent eye contact with your husband, you guys silently agreed on having another kid. You were thrilled.

They all went to their rooms and came out in their matching Captain America pjs that Chris bought from Los Angeles the last time he was there for shooting. He always loved the idea of twinning with his famiily.

“We have a little surprise for you, don’t we, Jason?” The boy ran towards the living room and you all followed suit. Chris gave you a bouquet with a red long box and Jason did the same but with a smaller size to his baby sister.

The moment you saw the content in the jewelry box, tears welled up in your eyes. This was such a thoughtful gift and there was an empty place in the bracelet for a new gemstone. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“I am giving you a lot of hints, here.”

“You don’t have to convince me, baby. I was thinking about this as well.”

“Then, it’s done. Baby number three of our family.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Emma jumped on Chris from the back and he immediately caught her in his arms.

“No problem, baby. Which movie do you guys want to watch?” He asked but he already knew the answer.

“Lion King!” There were a lot of things that your kids didn’t agree with but this was an exception. They were both die hard fans of Lion King.

“Aw, I thought we will watch Captain America today. But that’s okay, I guess.” He pretended to be hurt by their answer but the kids took it seriously.

“No, daddy. We love Captain America and we can watch it today.” Little hands cupped his light stubbled cheeks and Chris just smiled at his two babies. He was so lucky to have them and he could not wait for a third one.

“It’s okay, bubs. I was just kidding, We can watch it tomorrow. Today is Lion King’s day.” They all got together under the blanket and kept all the snacks on their laps. This was what Chris wanted the whole day; his whole family under his arms, happy.

“I love you.” He whispered to you while you cleaned off Emma’s sticky fingers and the drool on Jason’s chin.

“I love you, too.” You spent the whole night on that couch and somewhere in between the movie, Dodger came up and cuddled to your side. Your life was blissful and it was all because of Chris, the love of your life.

Hope you guys liked it!!

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A/N: This is just some family dribble that I wrote related to Chris Evans. I just love the idea of dad Chris. Send me some ideas related to Chris as a family man and I will be happy to write about it. Tell me if you wanted to be in the taglist.

Tag list: @maximeevansblog, @justile 

Like, comment and reblog.

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[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Winery 🍷

Captain America and The Winter Soldier

Pairing; Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary; Bucky takes you wine tasting out in the beautiful countryside.

Word Count; 969

Warnings; mention of alcohol and getting drunk.

Authors Note; I have never been to a wine tasting and I know nothing about wine so I’m sorry if none of this is 100% accurate.

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Autumn Masterlist

Story Moodboard

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It is yet another fine Autumn day when you wake up from your deep slumber. The sunlight shines through the blinds, and you get a glimpse of the leaves that tumble down in an array of different colours through the window.

As your mind and body slowly start to set footing from dreamland to the real world, you feel a heavy and warm arm wrapped around your middle and a face nuzzled into your side.

Bucky is still sound asleep in his world of dreams. His lips are slightly parted as deep breaths escape him. He looks so beautiful and peaceful, and you can’t help but feel happy and warm inside at the sight of him so content.

It breaks you a little inside that you have to disturb the peace, but you and he have exciting plans to attend to on this day.

A few days ago, Bucky had surprised you with a reservation to a Winery outside of the city. It was a much-deserved break from the hectic lives you and he lived day-to-day. All of today would be about the two of you, beautiful sceneries, and exquisite wine and food to taste.

“Wake up.” You muttered in his ear as your hand repeatedly raked through his soft hair to make it easier for him to wake.

“Five more minutes, please.” He asked of you as his body came as close as it could to your own. His grip on you tightened so that you couldn’t leave the bed.

After a couple of minutes of trying to wake your boyfriend up, he demanded a few more minutes of cuddling before you had to get up, get dressed and then leave for your day out together.

The car ride out to the Winery was pleasant. The sound of soft music played through the speakers while you and Bucky held hands the entire ride. As the deeper you got into the countryside, the thicker the trees got that displayed the gorgeous colours of Autumn.

Once you arrived and took a look at the surroundings, you were in complete awe at how beautiful it was. The estate was stunning and stretched out as far as you could see.

A lovely woman came up to you both and introduced herself as Olivia. She would be showing us around before we could sit down to start our wine tasting.

Just as the outside surroundings, the inside was just as beautiful. It had a rustic farmhouse vibe to it, and it felt cosy and safe to be in there.

Once the little tour was over, Olivia guided you outside on the terrace that overlooked the vineyard. Even though there were a few more couples on the other tables around, it still felt intimate as you and Bucky sat down at yours. The temperature felt comfortable despite you sitting outside. The heating lamps surrounding you helped with that as well did the clothes you wore.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome Bucky looked in his sweater. It wasn’t too tight clingy but not too big either to swallow him whole. It sat perfectly on him. You sported a similar style of clothing as him.

You talked for a bit as you held hands across the table. His thumb was brushing the back of your hand every few seconds. It felt so good to talk about everything else than the responsibilities you and he had at home. It was good to decompress.

After a few minutes, Olivia came out with two different trays. A Charcuterie board with different cheeses, meats, fruits and crackers. The other tray held the wine. On the bottom of each glass was a description of the different wines. Olivia explained to you for a few minutes before she left you two to be.

You lifted the first glass from the row; Bucky did the same. You held the glasses up and clinked them against each other.

“Cheers, babe.”

“Cheers, doll. Don’t get too drunk, so I have to drag you home at the end.” He spoke in a teasing manner.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Who the hell gets drunk on wine?”

“You do.” He had a teasing smirk across his face.

You rolled your eyes as a low chuckle escaped him before he brought the glass to his face, swirled it, smelled the aroma and then drank the dark liquid. There was a slightly sad expression on his face for a brief second as he tasted it, the realisation that he could never get tipsy or drunk on alcohol, but nonetheless, his face lit up at the taste. He lifted the card to read about the wine he had drunk.

“It’s good.”

Your lips pulled down in a slight frown at the sadness he expressed, but you followed his moves all the same.

“Yeah, it’s delicious.”

Like this, you would go back and forth with the wine. To be honest, none of you really tasted any difference in them, but it was still fun and relaxing all together. The Charcuterie board was exceptional, and you ended up ordering one more.

Towards the end of your stay at the Winery, you decided to take a stroll around the estate before you had to head home.

Bucky had his arm wrapped around your shoulder to keep your body as close to his to warm you up. You walked around the vineyard for a while, just taking in the last few moments alone together before you had to go back to the real world. A yawn escaped you, and your eyes started to get droopy with sleep.

Bucky noticed and scooped you up into his arms to take you back to the car. “Come here, princess,” he left a soft and lingering kiss on your forehead as he walked you back, “let’s go home.”

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[redspiderling]

MCU Breakdown: Black Widow, Part 1

I can’t believe this is happening 😭

First of all, congratulations to all of you who’ve been here all these years. We got it. We begged for years, and it’s finally here.

For once I wasn't dreading revisiting this film to write down what I got from it. I felt more like I might not do it justice. This film is so special to me, but here it is, the MCU Breakdown of Black Widow, part 1 (of who knows how many).

I remember back when I started running this blog and talking about a hypothetical Black Widow movie that had never been announced, always "yeah, we would be happy to do it, maybe, someday in the future", and arguing that it would be important for women and girls, no matter its content. I'm so glad we got it like this. So, so glad.

The rest under the cut.

Let's start with some technical details. The film has a lot of setups and callbacks, nothing is done in chance. For example, I love how the light, and the sounds we hear when we first, and last, see Natasha in the film, are the same. We greet her in bright -birds cheeping- morning light, while she's riding her bike home, to her family

and we leave her in bright -birds cheeping- morning light, while she's riding her bike home, to her family (I'm using the term family very liberally here in reference to the Avengers for the sake of the movie, bear with me, you know how I feel about those dudes).

It's signifying new beginnings, each time, not endings. Notice how, what we see is natural light, which makes this scene pop out, and look more real because the light is coming from the sun, and isn’t artificially made on VFX software. You will notice the stark differences in colours and lighting when the emotions and the atmosphere change in this film, because there is a visual language being employed here, the director has a story to say, and she uses all the tools she has to tell it. The light is exactly the same in those 2 scenes, because Cate wants us to make that connection, even if we make it unconsciously.

Natasha is placed in such a positive way, both at the start and the end of the film. There's this discussion about how "real" their little family was, but it was the characters that muddled up that image. The reality of their lives in Ohio is presented in a happy way, that had deep rivers under the surface, for sure. This wasn't accidental, for a lot of reasons.

First of all, if you take it the literal way, they were spies, and had to present themselves as normal. If you take it the allegorical way, any girl could fall victim to trafficking, and if you take it the character way, both Scarlett and Cate wanted to showcase that Natasha is human. They also wanted to give her something that wasn't always dripping with pain and sadness. They were both parts of her life, yes, but there was also joy, and light, and once upon a time she had been a kid, playing with her sister.

Also, and this has been mentioned before but it bears repeating: I love the actress they chose for young Natasha, and I love how they presented her character. She's allowed to be a young teenage girl. She's not sexualised. She's at that gangly stage between childhood and adulthood, and there's nothing sexual about it, no provocative clothing, no excessive makeup. She's a kid.

Plus, I know Cate said the actress already had her hair dyed blue and they just decided to let her have it, but I think it works well for Natasha's character. That small act of defiance, even that early on, against the system that wanted to break her. Also, the film gives us such great character moments, because they let the camera roll and don't rush through scenes, look at Natasha looking at Melina comforting Yelena. We can see the pain, the fear, where she knows that this isn't going to last, and wonders about what will become of them once their lives begin to unravel.

We also get to see the joy on her face, the wonder of discovering the world, how often do you get to see Marvel characters do this, just live in the moment?

Bioluminescence: the production and emission of light by a living organism. Or how Natasha is a bright light, that shines from within. Not my words, Cate Shortland's words. I felt it when I was watching this scene, but it was lovely to have it verified in one of her interviews. I wish I could meet her, and tell her that everything she wanted to put on screen came through, incandescent and crystal clear. Fireflies are a symbol for Natasha, as a bright light that shines from within, and never dies.

Small details that I love, the magnet on the fridge: Don't forget, above a picture of Natasha. LIKE WE EVER COULD, CATE.

We have another setup here, where the family gathers up to have dinner together. Even the sitting arrangement is the same as later on in the film.

Notice also how both young, and adult version of Natasha, communicate so well with Melina, just with their eyes. It doesn't necessary show a deep history between them, but it does show a bone deep level of understanding. Not just of their current circumstance, but of their future, and of what it will do to them. Melina knows what's coming and she's says it "I'm sorry", but they're both resigned to their fate, Melina because she doesn't see a way out, and Natasha because, well, here she's a kid, and therefore is powerless.

The dynamics between Yelena and Alexei is so different. Yelena is young and doesn't understand, so they're speaking about completely different things. "I don't have my shoes" is what she says, and it's heartbreaking in its innocence, as Alexei is loading his gun and reading himself for battle. We can still see that he's not indifferent to her, telling her she can have "fruit loops in the car". He's not a monster, he just doesn't have a choice (or at least, he thinks he doesn't).

Also, notice how the camera angles are employed here: Natasha and Melina look each other eye to eye, Yelena looks up to Alexei, Alexei looks down on her, there is an imbalance of power and understanding in the second set of images, and the camera tells us that.

Melina doesn't let Natasha take the photo album. For one thing, it's certain that Natasha wouldn't be able to keep it. For another, Melina wanted the memories, and probably didn't want anyone else to realise/think that they cared about their little family unit.

There's just a lot of thought that's been put in the details of the script, to show us their bond, their attempts to hide it, to show the characters' personality in everything around them (notice the plants that are ever present in Melina's home, in Ohio and later in Saint Petersburg). She might seem cold, she has been through a lot, but she cares. And that care has brought her pain. And we have to see that pain, because we get the quiet moments like this one, where she stands alone in an empty home knowing that part of her life is over, never to return.

The mission, is the last thing Melina asks about. The last thing Alexei mentions, the last thing either of them cares about. First, she refused to accept that they had completed the mission and were now hunted, then she accepted it and they loaded their family in the car, and then she asked about the leaked files.

Also, notice how that shot is framed. Both images silhouetted by the light because it’s the moment and the prop smack down in the middle of the frame that’s important, now what they’re going through, emotionally, they’re not themselves in that moment, they’re nameless, tools of the trade, expendable in front of that tiny floppy disk.

Yelena is singing while the rest are plunging in despair, but still humour her and play her song.

I found this shot a bit... Jarring. I get it that for American audiences this would show that they're actually leaving "home" behind, but for the rest of us... Eeeh, I'll give it a pass because it is an American production and this is just something to be expected. I mean, Yelena's song was American Pie. We get it, you still love America, just because you're making a film about Russian spies doesn't mean you're a commie Marvel, it's ok.

But in any case, the setup for the action scene here was excellent. Happy, familiar music playing, car is on the main road, car goes off the main road familiar music gets toned down and eventually completely lost in the darkness.

Yelena knows what to do, we see it, so that we know that this 6 year old girl who holds her stuffed animal and walks barefoot has practiced for this moment.

By the way, Natasha did take another item with her along with the photobooth pictures (it also looks like a photo album with Disney princesses on it), it didn't survive the trip. We are informed of this for a very specific reason: Melina didn’t ask Natasha not to take the photo album out of malice, or just because she wanted to keep it for herself. She knew it wouldn’t survive the trip in Natasha’s hands. We also get a close shot of the image strip (and we get it again, during the credits), because it will be important, later on.

Bet y'all also forgot you were watching a superhero movie until this happened? That wasn't accidental, they wanted us to see them as normal people, this is the moment when that ends.

Natasha saved her family, even though she was a terrified kid.

I know that they did the huge titles thing to connect this film to Civil War but... Listen, Civil War needed the huge titles because that script and the way that movie was directed was a complete disaster. We needed to know where the characters were each time with huge ass title because there was NO OTHER WAY TO TELL. Between complete lack of a timeline, and the fact that you couldn't even tell what time of the day it was due to the horrible lighting, you definitely couldn't tell what the location was because it was irrelevant to the plot like, 90% of the time. Not to mention the title cards in Civil War were usually followed by dimly lit grey corridors so, yeah, give us a title so we know at least where they are, generally.

This film. Didn't Need That. For the most part anyway, there are 2 locations where the titles worked. First one was Ohio, the other I'll reveal later.

But here. Guys, they're Russian spies escaping from the US on a small plane... Where else would they go if not to Cuba?!?! This is the Black Widow movie paying for the sins of Civil War, in a small way in this instance.

Yelena tells Melina that pain only makes you stronger, Natasha cries, and they setup my heartbreak for later.

Natasha protecting Yelena, terrified, and staring men down the barrel of her gun anyway. Such a badass and heartbreaking callback.

Notice how this scene makes us look at how men view this. There's an allegory here as well, but I'll address what's actually happening in the film:

Dreykov notices Natasha's natural instinct to protect herself and her sister, and all he sees is something he can use. A tool for violence, instead of sex, in this case. But the implication is there. Not a person, or a terrified girl, just an object to be used by men.

So glad that piece of shit got blown up and never mentioned again. Any man looking for exposition on Dreykov to feel the "loss" when the villain is gone: Fuck you. Go get some therapy.

Moving on from that piece of shit, difference between Melina and Alexei: Melina apologised. Alexei lied, but he also tried to give them hope. We can see the devastation, because the soldiers never thought of them as girls like he did, and didn't blink before drugging them and taking them away.

Yet another setup, of Natasha and Yelena, drugged and powerless as they are taken away. Because it wasn't enough that they were kids, they took away all their choices, and rendered them unconscious.

What can I possibly say about this credits scene.

It's very real, probably the realest minutes in the entire MCU, and it's merciless. They don't try to sugar-coat what's happening, and there are no jokes to diffuse the drama. These are girls being trafficked from all over the world. I don't know about you but I felt the switch from true parallel to real life traffic victims like this shot that looks like footage from Interpol

to Red Room victims as being a clear shift, and I was actually grateful for it. Because here I could put my back against the fact that the red room wasn't real, otherwise I would have broken down before the credit sequence even ended.

It was a stroke of genius to create an introduction to this entire world like that. We rarely see credit sequences anymore and it's a shame, because when they're well done they tell stories in and of themselves, and this is one of the best I've seen.

Even the villain is set up here. He's pointing at girls and saying "that one, and her", like he's picking pigs for slaughter. How much more setup than that do you need, to want to murder that man dead? Not any more, that was enough.

Nobody speak to me I’m crying.

Subtle, but there. Trafficking (and traffickers) exists because it IS being tolerated by governments around the world.

Unnecessary title aside, who else says Natasha looks at herself in the mirror hear and repeats "pain only makes you stronger", as she's being hunted away from yet another family.

Then she's saying it again because it bears repeating and Natasha has been through A Lot these past few years. I love how unfiltered our first image of her is. After all she's been through, we basically see her stripped of all her tricks in a moment where she’s alone with herself and her thoughts(something we later learn she tries not to do much), and she's just a woman having a tiny breakdown in a semi-public bathroom. Again, human.

This is where I will leave you for this first part. Hey, I got through the intro, I count that as a win given just how long this breakdown has already been. If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading, come yell at me in my inbox whenever, see you for the next one xo

[nethandrake]

keep me as your finish line.

stevetony. avengers assemble. rated t. fake/pretend relationship. 4.9k words.

for the fall backwards: an avengers assemble flash exchange hosted by @cap-ironman and @ishipallthings

also on ao3.

*****

Like most shenanigans of this sort, it happens on a Tuesday.

“—was saying! But Sam told me— Hey, what’s that?”

Tony follows Steve’s line of sight, pointed towards a small glimmer coming out from the cracks on the sidewalk. Steve edges closer, getting down on one knee to pick it up.

“What is it? A dime?”

“Nope,” Steve replies, holding his hand up. “Not even close.”

It’s a ring. It’s a pretty thing, a band of silver with a small diamond nestled in the middle.

“Why, Steven,” Tony begins teasingly, “you’re going to propose to me in the middle of a sidewalk?”

Steve’s grin widens. “Carpe diem.”

“How romantic.”

Tony’s about to drag Steve up to his feet when a flash of light stills him.

There’s a crowd gathered around them, holding out their phones and they grin manically.

“Say yes!” someone calls.

“Say what?” Tony asks.

“Say yes,” Steve replies, infuriatingly calm. “They want you to marry me.”

Tony freezes. The noise around them grows louder.

“Well, Shellhead?” Steve murmurs, his grin plastered back on. “Marry me?”

Tony should say no. He should haul Steve to his feet and tell everyone to scram, tell them that this is all a misunderstanding. He should toss the ring far, far away and make a run for it.

“Yes,” he whispers instead.

 *****

  Tony breaks the silence halfway through the elevator ride.

“Well, that was something.”

Steve chuckles. “I’m never picking a ring up ever again.”

Tony lets out a hollow laugh of his own. “The board’s going kill me.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Yes, they will,” Tony insists. “Me a part of a fake public proposal? The stocks are going to plunge, the board will be on me even more than usual, and the media—”

The media. The public.

Steve.

Oh god.

“Steve,” Tony begins, “I—”

The elevator doors open. They step into the common area.

There’s a banner that’s stuck to the ceiling with arrows that says, ‘CONGRATULATIONS ON THE ENGAGEMENT’, in block letters. Heart-shaped balloons hang from every corner of the room. Cupcakes with icing in Captain America and Iron Man colors are stacked high in the middle of the dining table.

“Surprise!” Sam cries out.

Clint whoops. Thor blows on his party horn.

Oh god. The team.

How could he forget?

“We are not telling them,” Steve murmurs.

“Yes, we will,” Tony hisses back.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Tony would’ve argued back if Hulk hadn’t gathered them both into his arms, squeezing them with his massive, massive arms.

“‘Bout time you got together,” he says cheerfully before mashing Steve and Tony’s faces together.

That’s how Steve and Tony have their first kiss.

  *****  

They don’t end up telling them.

Tony doesn’t know why they don’t. It’d make sense to. They’re all friends. They’d understand how stupid the whole thing is, even if Tony has to suffer at the hands of their teasing.

But then Thor claps Tony on the back and regales the team with every instant Steve and Tony would wax poetic about each other and Sam shoves congratulatory cookies into his face and Bruce shows up to offer his congratulations and Tony just can’t bring himself to say anything. At least not yet.

Steve is perfectly content with keeping up with the charade, sticking by Tony’s side and openly holding his hand and nuzzling his cheek and looking at Tony as if he’s his whole world.

It doesn’t make sense. Steve’s the paragon of righteousness and truth. He never lies. Why he would start doing it now, over something dumb like this? It’s beyond Tony.

“About time you kids came out with it,” Clint says between mouthfuls of cake. “Felt like you kids were taking forever to tell us.”

“Which you didn’t,” Natasha points out, arching an eyebrow.

Steve rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. “We figured you guys would just hound us about it.”

“Hey, I can behave.”

“Sure you can,” Steve says before brushing his lips against Tony’s cheek.

Clint makes a retching sound. “You know what? I’m glad you guys kept it on the down-low. Don’t think I could take any form of PDA from either of you.”

God, if he only knew. If all of them only knew.

 *****

  The thing about being fake engaged while living with friends is that they have to share the same living space.

Which means sharing the same bed.

“I can take the floor,” Tony says as he exits his bathroom. “I’ve slept on worse.”

Steve’s gaze falls on him. He’s already dressed down in a tank top and shorts. Tony does his best to avert his gaze.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s big enough for the both of us.”

Tony glances at his king-sized bed with doubt.

Steve rolls his eyes and beckons him over.

Like a moth to a flame, Tony follows.

  *****  

 The next morning is total chaos.

Tony’s phone is overwhelmed with messages and missed calls. His inbox is full of lengthy emails. The press is divided. So is the board.

Fury asks to see him, to see them.

The team has gathered in the communal kitchen when Steve and Tony head down in rumpled clothes and bed hair. The grins they send them are wolfish.

“Good night?” Clint begins, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve beams, draping his arm around Tony’s shoulder. “Very good night.”

And it’s too much. Too sudden. Too everything.

So like any sane person would in this kind of situation, Tony hides.

  *****  

  Steve forces his way into the workshop on the fourth day.

“You can’t hide from me forever,” he says. “The team’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

Tony ignores him, fixating on the hundredth tabloid headline about him and Steve on the screen in front of him instead.

Steve closes the news with a wave of the hand. “Hey,” he says softly, “you alright?”

Tony doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “It’s a mess. The whole thing’s a mess. Imagine when everyone finds out that this is all fake. They’ll kill us.”

“Not if we stay engaged.”

Tony whips around to face Steve. “You can’t be serious.”

Steve nods, solemn. “Oh, I’m serious.”

“JARVIS, run a—”

“I’m not a Skrull,” Steve huffs. “Or an LMD. Or under the influence of magic. Or mind-controlled. I genuinely do think we should stay engaged. At least, for now.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief. “God, do you hear yourself right now? Does it make sense to—”

“Yes.” Steve pulls up the holograms again, scrolling through. “Look. Everyone’s happy—”

“Not everyone.”

“The team’s happy for us. Fury isn’t pissed for once. The stocks have been soaring since the news. If you haven’t been reading trashy tabloids and right-winged articles, you would know that a lot of people are supportive. In fact,” Steve opens a new article, “a lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community are excited. The announcement’s helped a lot of people come out, or at least be more accepting of their own identities. It’s good for the people.”

Tony exhales heavily. “I’m not saying it isn’t. God knows that everyone needs all the support they can get. It’s just that we shouldn’t. It’s not right. I may be pan but you’re—”

“I’m bi.”

Tony blinks. “You’re—”

“Bisexual,” Steve affirms.

Tony files that information away for later. He’s one step closer to having a mental breakdown and processing the revelation that Steve’s bisexual wouldn’t help matters.

“Regardless, this isn’t a life or death situation. I can deal with the company and the press and—”

“You’re my friend. I can help.”

“What if you find someone you—”

“I don’t think I will,” Steve says firmly.

“Steve, I—” Tony sighs, wiping his face with his hand. “What about the team? Shouldn’t they know?”

“The fewer people that know, the better.”

Tony blinks. “Are you crazy?”

Steve grins. “Nope.”

“Well, jury’s out on that.” Tony groans, slumping in his seat. “God, we should’ve told them it was all a misunderstanding.”

Steve smiles, squeezing Tony’s shoulder in reassurance. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

Tony highly doubts that.

“You’re not going to wear someone else’s ring.”

“You can make me a new one.”

“I figured you’d say that. So, you know.” Tony climbs up to his feet, pulling one of his desk drawers open and reaching inside. “I didn’t lock myself up for no reason. Here. It’s not vibranium but uh, hope you like it.” 

Steve takes the ring out from the velvet box gingerly, as if he’s afraid it’ll break. “You’ve always had my heart,” he murmurs as he examines the inscription on the silver band. “Wow.”

Tony’s breath catches at the reverence in Steve’s tone. “Figured you’ll like that kind of sappy thing.”

“I do,” Steve says and god he sounds so happy, so touched, so— “Here’s yours.”

It’s a simple gold ring, with a familiar scrawl engraved on the inside.

You’ve given me a home.

Tony almost breaks down.

*****

read the rest of ao3.

[thorfemmes]

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod​ for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!! 

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.  

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans. 

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek. 

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up. 

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor. 

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love. 

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp. 

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!” 

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck. 

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile. 

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ” 

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it. 

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph. 

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them. 

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion. 

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack! 

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now. 

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table. 

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!” 

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped. 

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers. 

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her. 

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace. 

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves. 

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow. 

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them. 

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love. 

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.” 

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks. 

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television. 

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

[boop-le-snoot]

Doll Parts | tony stark x reader

i love him so much it just turns to hate // he only loves those things because he loves to see them break // and someday you will ache like i ache // Hole - Doll Parts

all hurt comfort. angst. no happy ending. big sad. tony could have been like this, you know. he was like this to pepper at some point. i don't know why i am like this today. rated M for themes of (implied) addiction & cheating and non-explicit mentions of intimacy. word count: 3,3k

It wasn't as if she was blind or dumb. She saw the way he treated everyone around him; whenever a single person got too close he'd push them away, consciously or not. The man loved pushing everybody's buttons as if he was playing Galaga for a living; rapidly, mercilessly, with intent. Tony Stark was not a man to whom a person would give their heart willingly.

It was her own fault she went and gave hers away, to him, of all people. And sometimes, it did feel like he loved her, in his own way. Tony would shower her with gifts and affection, cling to her whenever he wasn't away on SI business, and God, the sex was out of this world. Sometimes, she felt as if she would suddenly burst into a blinding flash of light, scalding and deafening, that would sprout from the invisible wounds his fingers left on her skin. Like fine china, she cracked little by little under his steady, tender hands.

The first time he'd ended their short, by average standards, but long - by his, relationship, it didn't come as a surprise. She had never held illusions on ensnaring the world's most notorious playboy. Younger and less jaded, she amicably agreed to get her things that very same day, blocked his number and left for an overdue vacation in the tropics. Being able to browse the gossip sites speculating on their lack of public appearances whilst sipping a Strawberry Daiquiri was a much better alternative to spending her nights holed up in rainy Manhattan, having to answer numerous "I told you so" calls from friends and relatives.

Maybe, three daiquiris should've been enough. But she'd quit smoking because he said the smell bothered him and she- well, she could do anything she wanted now. Being alone and not dating a very public figure definitely had way more perks than she previously had taken for granted in her much less exposed life. That's how the heartache began to recede: it was hard to mope when fun was calling for you by your name.

Some of Tony's character traits had migrated onto her. Which wasn't bad per se, she had been told she could use to loosen up. Her friends rejoiced in the newfound adventurousness, never missing an opportunity to go out, throw a party, go on a clubbing spree. She was game and she was enjoying it. Dolled up and eyes sparkling, the newfound confidence radiated off her like a beacon, attracting just about every single like-minded person in a five mile radius.

Tony's champagne he had sent to their table meant nothing. Her friends laughed and giggled and asked her all about the juicy details about the billionaire; as much as she searched the rowdy crowd for a familiar pair of baby doe browns, they weren't anywhere within sight. So she went back to talking and smiled as bright as the strobe lights, throwing down a whiskey shot to water the burning ache in her chest.

She found him on the dancefloor. Seconds after she stepped her foot into the mass of grinding bodies Tony was there, an equally happy and intoxicated smile on his face and arms wide open, as if they hadn't parted ways at all. She wanted to be angry with him, she really did, she wanted to snide his frivolity and the possessive way that he had the audacity to treat her.

His eyes, they were her untold weakness. She hadn't seen him so happy in months. Just once, she agreed, she'd let it slide. And so they danced, bodies accustomed to each other in the way that seemed to be impossible for her to achieve with anyone since the day that she left Tony Stark.

A splitting headache and a cold, empty bed greeted her the next morning. Thankfully, her clothes were laying haphazardly on the floor of the bedroom - the bed that was not his own but, rather, as she assumed, one of the many guest rooms in his tower.

Not the one to usually harbour shame of her very human needs, she felt like a cheap whore when she got dressed and grabbed her purse, making a beeline for the door to the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, she was greeted with a woman in a professional suit - tall, strawberry blonde and as cold as the Arctic, beautiful in the Vogue-magazine, unattainable way.

"Good morning," The woman spoke in a pleasant tone.

She wanted to retch from the false cheerfulness. "Good morning, ma'am. I was just leaving," Refusing to bow to her own shame, she flashed an equally cheerful grin towards the blonde.

"I'm Mr. Stark's personal assistant, my name is Pepper Potts," They briefly shook hands, neither of them wanting to touch the other longer than it was necessary. "There is a car waiting for you downstairs. Be sure to take the left exit."

Internally fuming, she smiled slightly wider, seeing no need to introduce herself or prolong the awkward interaction longer than necessary. "Thank you, Ms. Potts, that will not be necessary. I have arranged my own ride. Have a nice day, ma'am," With that, she pressed the button once again, entering the elevator with the expression of polite contentment glued to her face like a persistent piece of dog shit she couldn't shake off the bottom of her shoe.

Ms. Potts' façade slipped slightly - she must've been new - as the blonde ran a sharply observant look over the woman in the elevator, pulling out her phone as soon as the elevator door was halfway closed. That was quickly forgotten, her head growing clearer with each second it was pressed against the cold window of the cab she'd called on the way downstairs.

It was a mistake, a perfectly human accident that happened to the best of them. Only it left a bitter residue somewhere south of her ribcage, something acrid and viscous that even alcohol couldn't melt. The more she drank, the thicker that ball of rolled up frustration became, bleeding into her work, her relationships with her friends. It was tiresome to keep craving something so far out of her reach.

The exhaustion grew day by day, until her chest felt constricted for most part of the day and all the oxygen in the whole wide world wasn't enough. Her heartache was saved, strangely enough, by aliens - they rained down on New York city like frogs during the Plague in the book of Exodus; as if God himself was angry at the state of affairs of his favourite pet earthlings. For a time, she couldn't afford to worry about her broken heart and focused on the dilapidated city, landing her resources and skills whenever, whenever she could.

Late at night, exhausted and drained, she allowed herself to flick through the news, eagerly soaking up the new details that seemed to pop up every other day. Aliens were real, Thor was one, Captain America was alive and her ex-boyfriend was now a member of the merry band of misfit superheroes.

She had never taken his hero sidegig too seriously. Tony had some good in him, he wasn't the attention-demanding supervillain-waiting-to-happen, but neither he was hero material. The Tony she knew was akin to a hyperintelligent kid left without supervision. Consequences were a slight setback, not a surefire deterrent for this man.

Her building remained mostly intact - some cosmetic damages that were repaired quickly and did not concern her apartment at all - so she stayed in the same place, much to everyone's dismay. A good chunk of her friends had moved away from NYC as soon as they could - not that she blamed them - but the calls of her family, consisting of begging and nagging her to move states, were beginning to climb over the annoying line very quickly. More often than not, she ignored all calls that weren't from her friends or work.

It shouldn't have surprised her that Tony showed up on her balcony one night - but the shriek that left her was utterly involuntary. His armored suit was noisy and clunky, just like was expected from a huge chunk of metal. Tony's face was a ghost of the man she used to know: he was pale, the bags under his eyes were fit to carry groceries in and he'd lost more than a few pounds around his middle.

Not that she had a glow-up. Work hours were long, volunteer work was by far more exhausting and emotionally draining. With her support system scattered across the country and free hours few and in-between, she'd acquired a shrink. Nightmares went away and the sluggishness, too, thanks to a couple of convenient prescriptions. It seemed like the professionals were as clueless as any in dealing with the aftermath of an alien invasion.

"You weren't returning my calls," Tony stated in the way of hello. It was so like him, to be skipping the pleasantries and glossing over the details.

"I have your number blocked," She replied unkindly, raising an eyebrow as the suit retracted and the man, wearing worn jeans and an oil-stained tee, stepped into the twilight of her home without an invitation.

"I wanted to make sure you are alive and your home is being rebuilt in case it was demolished. Stark foundation is shouldering most of the expenses," He offered in the way of explanation, beelining for the nice whiskey she kept in a tumbler in the living room.

The snort escaped her lips before she could help it; brain chronically overtired but medicated; Adderall and weariness. He was never a good liar, only a good faker. "Why are you here, Tony?" All of it: the damages, the casualties, all of it was public record, accessible 24/7. All he had to do was open Google.

He turned around, scanning her head-to-toe, in that not-quite-convinced way. "Just wanted to see if you're okay," He tried for nonchalant but his eyes were haunted. The whiskey glass he was holding empty in seconds.

She walked up to him, staying at an arm's distance from the man, before doing a slow, sarcastic twirl. "I'm fine. Not a scratch. Was in Staten Island that day."

He nodded, not at all convinced. "Good," Before slamming the glass down with such force, she was afraid the countertop now sported a rounded indent. Fingers twitching, he pulled the woman into himself before she could utter a peep, smashing their lips together without any grace, paying no attention to the way she froze as still as a statue. "God, I missed you. Couldn't bear the thought of you dying..." He mumbled in between harshly biting the plump of her bottom lip and steering the kiss towards his wishes, hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head.

He tasted like whiskey and desperation.

She couldn't not give in. She'd felt the same way when she watched his red and gold armor fly into that wormhole, missile in tow. She'd felt the same despair clawing at her ribcage when his lifeless body flew back from it before being caught by the rabid green monstrosity.

It wasn't graceful and it wasn't pretty; feeling like a monster herself, she responded the same way he did. She shredded his clothes, she clawed his back, leaving wet crimson streaks in the wake of her nails and whispered the ugliest, nastiest truths she had denied herself for so long. He left with the promise to stay in contact and for once, he did.

Nothing was the same. Tony was far from the careless, extravagant billionaire he used to be. These days he was a cynical, analytical asshole that one-upped people even before he had a real need to do so. Both of them had changed, really. She was not the tender uptown girl either.

The nights with him were rare and long; the nights alone with her work were recurrent and longer. The tower stood out on the NYC skyline like a sore thumb, beckoning with the unattainable snipe hunt of having something stable with the world's #1 superhero, Tony Stark. Each time they met, she felt almost as dirty as the time she stood in the elevator under the scrutiny of Pepper Potts.

Even if he didn't outright hide her. She'd ran into Black Widow and Clint Barton once or twice, each of them casting a glance at her Special Visitor badge before muttering niceties and moving on with their day. It was only slightly better with the Captain: he got in the elevator two floors below Tony's penthouse at 8 AM in the morning, just as she was leaving for work - dressed in a sharp pantsuit that was not-quite on Pepper's level. The soldier must've assumed she was a high-rank employee or a friend, the tips of his cheeks blushing as he spoke a quiet: "Good morning, ma'am," In that semi-formal tone of his.

Seeing a grown man get so flustered was quite adorable. "Good morning, Captain Rogers, sir," She replied in a matching tone, humoring him.

The elevator stopped suddenly and a few employees got in, staring openly at the national icon, who had his eyebrows slanted in confusion. The woman shared his sentiment: it was Tony's private elevator. She guessed all the other ones were too full in the mornings so the tower's AI put the underused one to work.

Or, at least, that's what she tried to convince herself of anyway. It wouldn't be past Tony to get jealous over something as trivial as sharing an elevator car with Captain America.

The plateau of normalcy didn't last long. Just as she was opening her third bottle of wine for the night, laptop open on the kitchen counter and proudly displaying "Tony Stark and Pepper Potts - America's newest power couple?" article, she realised he was a coward, too. Slowly but surely, he had ghosted her, not even bothering with an explanation of his sudden unavailability, the several dates missed and even more postponed indefinitely.

They were never going to be a normal couple. She had made her peace with that, ugly and depressing - but it was real. She thought what they had was real. She finally had admitted to herself that she loved him, loved an impossible man, loved to the bottom of Hell and pitfire. The fireworks under her skin had never fully gone away, she realised as more and more ugly sobs broke from her chapped lips.

She blocked his number again and bought herself a new one, deleting the "Tony Stark" contact for good. There was more than enough work to do and the time to feel sorry for herself was sparse. And if she picked up a habit to make sure the time working was spent with proper efficiency, without soaking documents in saltwater that her eyes seemed to overproduce those days? It wasn't a big deal. She needed to get back on her feet somehow, without being dragged by a man who wasn't even present to actively be ruining her life anymore.

If anything, she thought she should feel grateful. The blinding light, the stars that exploded and shone inside her only for Tony, became something poisonous and vile. It wasn't the bitter taste of regret; rather, she felt a flash of ravenous, burning anger every time his name or his face popped up in a press article within her eyesight. Love and hate weren't that different when it came to the intensity: she basked in those newfound feelings, taking care to pick apart and neatly sort each of his perceived flaws on a cute little shelf in her overtaxed brain and fatigued heart.

It wasn't healthy. A convenient escape for the summer; a cabin far, far away from the busy New York city - she took up the offer and relocated there, being content with working remotely, drinking strawberry mimosas by the lakeside. Day by day, the clarity of her mind returned, lulled into a false sense of security by the tranquil trees slowly swaying in the breeze and wide ripples in the water.

Tony seemed to be enjoying bringing chaos into her life and making her miserable. The quinjet landed right on the neatly manicured lawn in front of the cabin, several obviously exhausted and wounded superheroes dismounting the vehicle, Tony looking sheepish but determined in the lead.

She wasn't completely unaware of the rest of the world and knew of the fiasco the Avengers recently had. Was it the half-dead, limping Widow or the baby blues of the Captain, she couldn't tell, but the woman ushered them into her house, gathering the tools needed for first aid with haste. Fate wasn't looking to give her a break.

As soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen, alone, Tony was there, looking much like that time on the balcony, baby doe browns turned up to eleven and a groveling speech prepared on demand. He'd noticed her weight loss and the ashen tone of her skin, the prominent veins and the bags under her eyes. She was as obvious as a brick to the face with her vices.

She slapped him. He winced, but stayed quiet, preparing himself for the storm - and storm him she did, keeping quiet enough for most of the team to be able to tactfully ignore the scolding Tony was getting. "I despise, you, Stark. You're a coward. Do not dare to set foot in my house ever again."

Needless to say, the superheroes departed shortly after Natasha's injuries were stabilised and frowning, disappointed Thor and Steve (they'd asked her to address them by their first names) bashfully apologized for their sudden intrusion and any discomfort they might have caused. She smiled at Steve, wide and big; refusing to admit it was done just to spite Tony, she joked and blushed in response to the Captain.

Tony did not attempt to contact her again. For some time, she lived in fear - irrational one at that - he'd appear and wreck her life one more, final time, before admiring the destruction and leaving her a steaming pile of ashes on the floor. But seasons passed and all of it faded, like a vivid, terrible nightmare.

Piece by piece, her life was getting put back together. His name stopped invoking a swarm of feelings she needed to drown just to stay afloat; there were news regarding him, another violent altercation, and she simply flicked the TV back to adult swim. New friends and new hobbies were being made; the fine cracks made by his agile fingers were being filled with the gold of newer, better discoveries.

There was always something going on in the superhero world and finally one of the topics reached her line of work: mutant rights. She'd never stopped being a volunteer after that NYC invasion, making new connections in a domain previously unexplored, it paid off in spades regarding her career growth. The connections were vital to be able to climb the corporate ladder successfully.

Stark showed up at her door three days after half of his merry band of misfits were pronounced fugitives. This time, she expected it. She knew better than to expect him to assume responsibility by himself - a quick Google search and his relationship status was listed as once again single - the Virginia Potts she knew would not have let anything like that happen. Stark was on his own.

"They betrayed me," He'd said, from behind the door she had cracked open a few inches, to make him know he wasn't welcome in her home.

"I think you know now, how I felt then," She didn't falter, ignoring the way his still freshly-bruised face darkened. "As far as I am concerned, you deserve it. Goodbye, Tony." She shut the door without waiting for his response, hearing his footsteps slowly back away as she made herself another coffee.

Tony Stark taglist: @another-stark-sub @letsby @mostly-marvel-musings @rdjesus4ever @ladyeliot

Well um 💀 yeah. I'll go and attempt to scavenge some serotonin somewhere now. Thanks for reading! 💖✨

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Cup

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: a monogrammed mug might be the thing that exposes your relationship with Peter to the Avengers when there’s a strict “no dating” rule being enforced

Warnings: I’m sorry if your first, middle, or last name begins with a “p”. Also this gif is a total spoiler with no context for this story

Masterlist

There was a rule in the Avengers tower: Avengers were absolutely not allowed to date each other. It was a stupid but reasonable rule, considering Nat and Bruce’s relationship had caused fights, tears, and chaos until dating among Avengers was inevitably banned, exactly three years before you and Peter joined the team.

Peter had been an Avenger for eight months before you came along. In that time, he'd become good friends with the other Avengers, or at least that’s what he told Ned. Peter was regarded as more of a son among the Avengers, never really seen as an equal. Before you, Peter was teased daily for his intelligence and bad habit of spewing out scientific facts no body asked for. Whenever he started going off on the theory of momentum or how a star was formed, a collective groan could be heard from Earths mightiest heroes. He would laugh it off and stop telling his fact, but it stung a little more each time it happened. But keep in mind, that was before you. 

You took a breath and entered the elevator. You smoothed your shirt with your hands and folded your lips into your mouth. You were surprisingly nervous, expecting the other Avengers to look down on you for being younger. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, you heard a voice call out.

"Hold the door please." The voice said. They sounded frantic so you quickly stuck your hand in the door so it wouldn't close. To your surprise, a dark haired boy around your age got onto the elevator with you. He was slightly out of breath from running and his curls were going in every direction. You could feel your face heat up and smiled shyly at him. He smiled back.

"Thanks for holding the door." He said once the elevator started going up.

"No problem." You answered. You already had butterflies in your tummy from your new job, and the adorable guy riding in the elevator with you didn't help.

"How come I've never seen you before?" He asked. You were pleasantly surprised that he had kept the conversation going.

"Today's my first day. I'm the newest Avenger.” You explained and he nodded.

"Well it's nice to meet you, newest Avenger." The boy said, extending his hand for you to shake. You prayed your palms weren't sweaty and firmly shook his hand.

"Thanks. And it's Y/n.” You told him. He smiled upon hearing your name as he realized it’s was his new favorite name.

“I’m Peter.” Peter told you. “I’m really glad to see you joining the Avengers. You have no idea how desperately we need more girls on the team. Last week, Nat wasn’t here and Bucky and Sam got tied in a knot. No one could pull them apart until she got back.” Peter blew out a breath as he remembered the incident. “Plus, it’s nice to have someone my age.” He added shyly.

From then on, you loved Peter.

“I’m actually really glad to see you too. I thought all the Avengers were gonna be older than me.” You said with relief. “I’m glad I got to talk to you, Peter. It's nice to have a friend on my first day." You said as you walked out of the elevator together.

"Yeah. Friends." Peter smiled widely.

You did not stay friends long.

The day you joined the team, the Avengers were getting ready to go on a mission involving a creature who liked to hop between earths and cause chaos. You sat quietly in the corner of the quintet and watched everyone interact. You didn’t add anything to the conversation, but laughed and smiled where necessary. You felt pretty invisible but you were okay with that for the time being. It was your first day and you didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. You were perfectly content with staying silent until Peter started going on about a multiverse.

“I can’t believe there’s actually a multiverse. Ive always read about them, but I never imagined it being real. This means there’s a universe out there where I’m stronger than Captain America.” Peter said excitedly.

“Doubtful.” Steve cut in.

“I mean, can you guys believe this? This creature can just hop to different universes as it pleases.” Peter went on. “I thought that was just theoretical. I mean, that completely changes how we understand the initial singularity. We’re talking about an eternal inflation system. And how does that even work-“

“Peter, you’re doing it again.” Sam sighed.

“Sorry.” Peter shrunk down in his seat, a look of hurt appearing on his face when he noticed the annoyed look on the Avengers faces. You noticed the look too and frowned.

“He does this a lot. You’ll learn to tune it out.” Bucky said to you.

“It’s just really cool. We’re talking about an eternal inflation system. And how does that even work-“ Peter said sheepishly before Sam cut him off.

“Peter! I’m sorry, he’s-“ Sam began the explain.

“Wait.” You cut him off and looked at Peter. “Let him finish.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, as no one had ever taken interest in him before.

“I want to hear the rest.” You said seriously. “What were you saying Peter?”

“I was just wondering how the multiverse worked with all the quantum realms. This has got to affect the space-time continuum in some way. That’s all.”

“That’s really cool, Peter. You’re really smart.” You said sincerely. You didn’t like the way his intelligence was treated as a nuisance with the other Avengers. You definitely isn’t like the sad look that crossed his face when they told him to stop. You just wanted to make him feel good.

“Thank you.” Peter said, in a little disbelief that you actually cared.

“No problem, Peter.” You smiled.

You ignored the shocked looks from the rest of the Avengers, or maybe you just didn’t see them. You and Peter looked at each other from across the jet and you winked at him.

You found Peter the next day sparing with a hologram. The hologram was much larger than Peter, but Peter was clearly winning the fight. You noticed Peters eyes darting around as he looked like he was figuring something out in his head. You didn’t want to interrupt, but you were too curious not to ask.

“What are you doing, Peter?” You asked him.

“I’m figuring out the momentum of his swings so I can match his force and overpower him even though he’s bigger than me. My mask usually does it but I’m practicing doing it myself incase my mask breaks during a battle.” Peter explained as he continued fighting.

“So you’re doing all that math in your head?” You asked in admiration.

“Yeah. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.” Peter shrugged, watching you carefully to see if you were actually interested or just teasing him. “But sometimes I forget to carry the one.”

“And all the Avengers just watch you do this and see it as normal? No one says “wow Peter, that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen” or anything?” You wondered.

“Uh, no. Not really.” Peter said.

“Well, Peter.” You laughed. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

From then on, Peter loved you.

Three weeks later, Peter kissed you in the training room when no one else was around. He tasted like Gatorade and mint and heaven.

Six months later, you were in love. You were spending every waking moment together, and by default, loving every waking moment together. There was never a time when he was more than 10 feet away, and that was how you liked it. From sparring to movie dates in Mr. Starks home theater to making burnt cookies for the rest of the Avengers, you were inseparable. The only problem was, you couldn't tell anyone that they were together.

The rule still stood and you worried if anyone found out, you’d be kicked off the team. This lead to secret hand holding under the table and quick kisses when no one was looking. It was an okay system, but it wasn’t great. Peter was dying to tell the other Avengers that he was dating you. All the men on the team had taken quite a liking to you. They were never disrespectful, but your beauty and abilities often came up when you weren’t around and the telling smiles that crossed their faces made Peter a little angry. He knew it wasn't their fault, but he couldn’t shake the jealousy. You were stunning and they had no idea you were taken. If the guys knew you were his girlfriend, they'd back off immediately. But, no one was allowed to know.

One hectic morning, your alarm didn't wake you up. You’d never actually set your alarm, because you’d fallen asleep in Peters bed while watching a movie together. You were still at his apartment at 7:13 when you had to be at the tower at 7:30 for a meeting. Peter was nowhere to be found, and you assumed he let you sleep because he thought your alarm was set. You rushed to get ready, grabbing whatever shirt you could find, which happened to be one of Peters button downs, and threw on some pants. Rushing into the kitchen, you found Peter with two cups of coffee already made and a small smile on his face. You sighed in relief that he was all ready to go and gave him a kiss, longer than you were accustomed too since no one was around. You grabbed your cup of coffee and headed out.

Once in the tower, you sat at the conference table and took a deep breath. You had gotten to the meeting on time, walking in a few minutes after each other so it wouldn't be suspicious. You took a big sip of your coffee when something caught your eye. Specifically, the giant red "P” on the front on the cup.

Luckily, Peter was sitting directly across from you. You snapped your fingers harshly to get his attention. Peter looked up at you and smiled, his smile quickly fading when he saw your angry expression.

"What's wrong?" He asked. You said nothing, instead, just held up your cup. Peter grimaced when he realized his mistake.

“Oops. Just trade cups with me. It's fine." He assured you. You quickly switched cups and you relaxed as the other Avengers walked in.

"Did you hear from Bruce? I think he said he was gonna be late.” Peter asked you to look like you were having a normal, platonic, conversation.

"I don’t think so. I’ll check if he texted- Oh God you freaking idiot." You deadpanned the last part as you stared at your cup.

"What? What's wrong now?" Peter asked, confused by your seemingly uncalled for insult. You again said nothing, but just held up your cup. This time, there was an even bigger, purple "P” on the front. Peter bit his lip.

"Oops." He repeated. “Nice shirt, by the way.” He smirked. You looked down and realized you were wearing his shirt in addition to drinking from his cup. Your day could not get any worse.

"Oops? Is that all you have to say?" You asked in a harsh whisper.

“Y/n, its fine. No ones gonna notice." Peter said calmly.

"You think they won't notice the giant purple "P” on my cup? My name is Y/n L/n. There's no "P” in that!" You exclaimed. You continuously checked to see if anyone was listening as you scolded Peter.

"You can say the “P” is for your middle name." Peter suggested as he took a sip of his coffee from your matching cups.

"My middle name is Y/m/n.” You whined, knowing his plan wouldn’t work.

"Really? That's so pretty." Peter said with delighted surprise.

"That's not the point, Peter.” You groaned. “The point is, if I'm caught drinking from a cup that has an initial other than my own, namely your initial, people are gonna get suspicious."

“Or, consider this. Close your eyes, manifest with me.” Peter said as he shut his eyes. “No one will care."

"I'm already wearing your shirt, which means I smell like your cologne. Now, I have a cup with your initial on it. Someone is gonna put two and two together." You panicked.

"Or, consider this, really manifest with me this time. I didn’t see you manifest before, no one will care." He said again with an innocent smile.

"Why couldn't you given me any other cup? And why do you own so many monogrammed cups?" You inquired.

"You're blowing this out of proportion. It's no big deal. No one will even notice." Peter repeated. You wondered how he was so calm when your jobs were at stake.

"Hey, Y/n. What's that “P” stand for on your cup?" Tony asked as soon as he entered the room. You shot Peter a look that made him shrink into his seat.

"Who cares? No one will notice! It’s just a cup! No need to get jazzed up about it.” You said sarcastically, catching the attention of the other Avengers.

"Oh, I'm the one who's jazzed? You're freaking out over a cup." Peter retorted, in full volume now.

"Speaking of the cup, why is there a “P” on it?" Sam asked, pointing the cup out so everyone could see it. You couldn’t help the loud groan that escaped your mouth.

"It stands for panda.” Peter blurted. “Y/n loves pandas.” You looked at Peter with a lethal glare.

"Why wouldn't you just buy a cup with a panda on it?” Bucky chimed in. You shrugged and looked at Peter.

"That's a great question, James. Peter, why don't you answer?" You said with a fake smile.

"Because Y/n likes to be unique." Peter explained meekly.

"Does the "P” on your cup also stand for panda?” Sam asked Peter. Peter looked down at his cup and sighed.

"It sure does". He said weakly.

"Interesting. I would've guessed the "P” stood for “Peter” or “Parker”, since you two are clearly dating. But I guess I was wrong." Sam shrugged casually as you and Peter froze.

"You know that we're dating?" You asked in shock.

"The whole team knows.” Steve cut in as if it were obvious. You looked around the room and everyone just shrugged as of to confirm Steve’s words.

"But what about the rule?" Peter asked, dumbfounded.

"That rule hasn't been effective for months. I stopped enforcing it last January.” Tony laughed as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"What? How come no one told us?" You asked.

"Because if you knew, there'd be non-stop PDA and none of us wanted that." Nat answered.

“So you let us think we were keeping it a secret for six months?” Peter demanded.

“Secret? Did you think none of us noticed that Peter became left handed six months ago so he could hold your hand with his right one under the table?” Tony pointed out.

“We all knew, we just didn’t care. We’re happy for you guys.” Steve smiled again you.

“Oh.” You said. “Thanks guys.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony answered. “Just keep the PDA to a minimum. I don’t want any spider babies around running here.”

Seven years later, you and Peter were married just a few miles from the Avengers tower.

After the ceremony, you sat in the kitchen while Peter finished bringing in the wedding gifts.

“I have one last gift for you, Mrs. Parker.” Peter came from behind you and kissed your cheek, setting a small gift box down on the table in front of you. You opened it up, finding a mug with a script “P” on the front. You laughed at the sight, remembering the incident in the conference room all those years ago.

“There. Now you do have a “P” initial. You can use this with no questions asked.” Peter said with pride.

“I love it.” You told him honestly. You smiled and made some coffee, just so you could use your new cup.

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[dizzydancingdreamer]

Little Witch | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies, I’m finally back with some Mikaleson Brothers content. I’ve had this idea for a while and rewrote it about a thousand times. I’m not sure if I love this but I needed to just finish it. I feel like it’s not that great but regardless I’m giving it to you. It’s super fluffy and a quick burn romance but, hey, who doesn’t like kissing me you just met you know? In all seriousness I hope you’re all doing well. I know life is really off right now and I hope this helps. All my love <3 until next time loves!

Description: Hogwarts and The Originals crossover, disbelief must be suspended for this one as we all know some of this doesn’t add up, soulmate AU

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: there are no warnings

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: FLUFF

Tag List: @activist-af , @hellotvshowtrash , @firebirdsalvatore

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

“There you are, sweetheart,” her gentle voice breaks through you dreams, pulling you from the same scene you’ve grown used to seeing for the last couple weeks, “you’re going to miss dinner sleepyhead.”

You awake to a familiar picture: your books sprawled across a desk in the middle of the library and a fiery redhead with a soft smile holding a semi-crumpled cardigan towards you. Her eyes twinkle with laughter and familiarity. This isn’t the first time Arabella has found you asleep after you told her you were going to be studying. When you look down at your divination textbook you notice a small pink smudge from your cherry lip gloss. You wipe your fingers around your lips, collecting the rest of your smeared makeup.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your limbs out with a soft groan, “shoot, I fell asleep again. What time is it, Ari?”

“Quarter to six, hun,” she reaches out to brush some fallen hair out of your eyes, “we should really get a move on. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, this time the yawn interrupting any intention to answer that you had. Your head buzzes lightly with the remnants of your dream. For weeks you’ve felt something on the horizon, something meant just for you. Three pairs of brown eyes and the warmest feeling in your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve been waking up with every night, if not a touch stronger this evening. You don’t mind it though, it layers a warmth to your bones that this winter in the castle has stripped from you.

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately is all,” you let Arabella help you slip your cardigan back on, straightening it and your tie, evening the yellow and gray stripes. 

Her hands still against your shoulders, her concerned green eyes meeting your own half open ones, “still having those dreams, sunshine?” 

You nod once more, sagging slightly from the weight of your tote when she loops it over your shoulder. Your skin tingles with slight electricity, lulling your already fuzzy brain into a deeper haze. You tug your sleeves over your hands, scrunching your fingers into a fist to try and regain some awareness.

“Hmm,” Arabella pushes the same strand of hair from your forehead again, removing her headband and putting it on you instead to keep your unruly strands in place, “remind me to make you some tea before bed. I have some herbs from the greenhouse that might help with them. Let’s go get some food into you first though, ok?

She links her arm through yours, pulling you alongside her towards the dining hall. The corridors are mostly empty, spare a few behind students. Much like yourselves, they hurry in the same direction, following the wafting smell of roasted chicken and pumpkin pie. You can’t help but shiver as you watch them rush, feeling like someone forgot to tell you something. As if everyone knows a secret that you very well must have snoozed through.

“Hey Ari,” you tug lightly on her sleeve to get her attention, “why is everyone in such a hurry? Did I miss something?”

She looks confused for a moment, her button nose scrunching tight before her mouth falls open, “oh yes, that’s right! I forgot to tell you! Some seventh year prefects overheard McGonagall talking about some exchange students from Ilvermorny. They’re supposed to be here for dinner!”

Your skin crackles with electricity, the air static with anticipation, “Ilvermorny? They’re from America?”

She nods her head cheerfully as the two of you approach the towering doors of the dining hall, “I know, it’s crazy right?”

You can hear the buzz of activity emitting from the hall before you cross the corridor, a dull roar that lights you with an even mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

“They certainly think so,” you motion to the giggling fourth year girls who scurry past you, their chatter no doubt about the possibility of Hogwarts’ newest additions. 

The current coursing through your body sings when Arabella pulls you through the doors. The dining hall is a flurry of activity, each house no doubt wondering if they’ve gained any new members tonight. The thought of some new Hufflepuffs warms your heart. You haven’t had any new faces around in ages it feels like. You let her lead you to a few seats left open near the front of the hall, next to the small stage.

You fall into your seat with a sigh, graciously accepting the plate of food Arabella hands you. How she made it so quick you aren't sure. Magic probably, that would make the most sense. When you glance over at her she has her wand out, levitating food onto her own plate. She always puts you ahead of herself, something you can't help but feel bad about sometimes. Regardless, it warms your heart immensely to be lucky enough to have such a caring best friend. You catch her eye and she passes you a loving smile and a wink before lowering her plate. 

As you take the first bite of your pumpkin pie, ignoring the nudge you get for eating your dessert first, Headmistress McGonogal taps her wand to the podium in front of her.

“Students,” she clears her throat, waiting for the noise in the great hall to quiet, “as quite a few of you have already heard by now,” she searches you all with a glint in her eye, a small smile on her lips, “we have a few students joining us.”

The great hall buzzes at her admission, a current running through the entirety of the student body and, most of all, you. Your head feels like it’s spinning. Like you’ve just drunk a litre of fire whiskey and that if you stand up there’s a good chance you’ll fall right over. You drop your fork but the clatter it makes doesn’t register with you as much as it should. Arabella looks over at you, clearly worried, and raises her eyebrows, placing a warm hand on your back. 

As you go to shrug your shoulders at her, the doors to the great hall open once more, “ah, and here they are! Please, everyone, show them your warmest welcome. They have come a long way, all the way from Ilvermorny in the United States.”

McGonogal continues to speak about Hogwarts and its connection to Ilvermorny but her speech is drowned out by cheering from all over the great hall. Well, you’re pretty sure it is. Your pulse is thundering so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear much of anything at all. Arabella stares at you still, growing more and more scared as the seconds pass. You think you say something, you open your mouth at least, but whatever words come out of your mouth don’t reach your ears. Arabella tightens her grip.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, desperately willing your senses to go back to normal. It almost works too but then you breathe in and are hit with three scents so hard that you almost vomit. Not because they’re terrible, though, they’re anything but. No, you almost puke because of how fast you’re swamped in pine and buttery leather and the entire damn sea and how quickly it makes your heart rate spike. Are you having a heart attack? What is going on?

When you open your eyes the great hall is spinning and you know for a fact that you’re the only one experiencing this carousel ride. You have to get out of here. You push away from the table, standing on legs much too shaky for your own good. Arabella calls your name and it sounds like she’s behind a thick sheet of glass, one you can’t break no matter how hard you slam against it. The trees and leather and sea wraps around you again and your knees almost give out. There’s only one thing you can think to do and you don’t hesitate to do it. 

You run like hell. 

No. Scratch that. You run like hell is chasing you and, well, maybe it is. Maybe hell is a person, or people, perhaps even three people, and their footsteps pound down the corridor behind you so loud they echo through your chest. Your kilt whips around your legs, your hair flying behind you as you clear the corners as they come. You can feel them, whoever they are, gaining but slowly. You can make it, you know you can.

It’s midwinter, the thick of February, and yet you feel like you’re wading through lava. The halls should be ice right now but your blood is scorching you from the inside out. You pull the sweater from your chest as you run, not thinking twice before dropping it, never stopping. Your skin is charged with electricity and you want to scream and tear your heart out but you can’t, not now. You feel them like they’re right on your heels, the triplet of scents swirling furiously around you. You need to get outside. Now. 

You make it to the courtyard, practically leaping off the cement steps, but a hand catches your arm midair and you stumble. You see the ground hurtling towards you in slow motion, the cobblestone path laughing at you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the stones to bite into your side but they never do. Instead you’re wrapped in pine, two warm arms pulling you into a firm, hot chest. 

You thought your skin was electrified before but that was nothing compared to what is now. Everywhere your body touches the person holding you prickles with static. You can almost hear your flesh crackle, each one of your veins roaring so loud that all you can hear is your blood rushing through you. It’s like a tsunami, waves of fire and power and fucking pine rolling over you unrelentlessly. You aren’t quite sure if you’re still breathing.

You feel another pair of hands on your back, rubbing up and down, spreading the fire like butter over your shoulder blades. Your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching into whoever it is behind you, your head falling onto a shoulder that smells like summer at the beach. 

A part of you is screaming to run. To jab your elbow into their stomach and fight like hell. However, against all of your better judgement, the feeling is fading and fast. Hands skim down your arms lightly and you fight the delicious shiver that crawls up your spine. You don’t realize you’re still clinging to the first person until your fists squeeze around the cotton of their shirt. Their hands hand loosely off your hips and you don’t even want to acknowledge how much you like it. 

Instead of fighting, you pry your eyes open, only to stare directly into strikingly familiar brown eyes. Your breath catches in your chest, your head still against his shoulder. He leans closer towards you, blonde hair falling down his face slightly. It looks entirely soft and you squeeze your hands tighter, resisting the urge to touch this stranger’s hair. His scent, that overbearing ocean, wraps around you again. He definitely doesn’t feel like a stranger.

“Hi love,” his voice is soft and lulls you deeper into his chest, his nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone, “you’re lucky we’re fast. That could have been quite the fall.”

He chuckles lightly and your cheeks flame, the noise like the wind chimes you hung in the greenhouse your fourth year. His laugh hits you in the gut and radiates to every inch of your skin, cooling the flames but also concentrating them lower. Too low. Your traitorous core sets on fire from the mixture of his musical laugh and mesmerizing eyes. Merlin, you don’t even know his name.

You look away from him but you can’t escape his eyes no matter how hard you try, looking directly into an identical pair of warm, brown eyes. The man in front of you, the one with his hands squeezing your hips, is also frustratingly familiar. He’s tall, his chest, the one underneath your fingertips, is broad and heaves up and down with every breath. Your body, being the wanton force of nature she is, longs to have you wrap your legs, and every other part of you, around the man in front of you. When the blonde behind you wraps his arms around your stomach, reminding you that he’s still there, you want to do the same to him as well.

Memories prickle the edges of your mind, the dreams you’ve been having for weeks now flashing behind your eyelids every time you blink. The warmth in your bones and the molten brown eyes. The same electricity that is burning through your chest and head and core, only now it’s a million times stronger. You shake your head. Not at the man in front of you but at yourself. No way are these the men from your dreams. That’s impossible, Right? And besides, there were three eyes in your dreams.

“There you guys are,” a voice, steadily approaching and as slow and tantalizing as honey, pulls your attention away from the men surrounding you, “I can’t believe you left me to explain what was happening to McGonagall.”

You meet the third pair of eyes with an audible gasp, his sharp leather scent curling around you despite the distance between the two of you. It sinks into your skin and puts you in motion, like the potion you needed to break whatever paralyzing spell you were under. You pull yourself so suddenly from the two men that they don’t have time to catch you, putting some much needed distance between all four of you. You force yourself to ignore the way your heart aches already. Your hand finds the wand in your kilt pocket. Stupid girl, longing for men you don’t even know. 

You find your voice but only enough to mutter hastily, “Were you chasing me? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting, like, the whole school right now? What in Merlin’s name is going on?” 

The newest male takes a step towards you, his eyes drawing up and down your body, reigniting the heat that has been slowly subsiding and lingering on your hand wrapped around your wand. He smirks at you, like he knows something that you don’t and, honestly, he probably does. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hair is dark brown and just as touchable as the previous two. You squeeze your fist tighter.

“One question at a time, darling,” he takes another step and you tense your shoulders instinctively even though your body is fighting the urge to run to him, “we’ll tell you everything. Can we go inside first, though? You look like you’re freezing. Is this yours?”

His question isn’t really a question, in his hands is your cardigan. He picked it up for you? You let your shoulders sag slightly and your grip loosen. He doesn’t know you, why did he bother picking it up?

“I-,” you release the wand slowly, “yeah that’s mine. Thank you.”

He’s right about the cold, now that you aren’t sandwiched between the other two men the chill nips at your fingers and legs. You go to take your sweater from him but he holds it open, beckoning you to turn around and let him put it on you for you. You sigh but oblige, tucking your arms into the soft wool with his help. His hands smooth down your arms once you’re settled, the familiar sparks following their path. You’re head squeezes with confusion and you want to scream if only to release the pressure.

You turn in his hands, meaning to break his hold but only ending up closer to his chest, “what is going on?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The ache in your heart eases drastically and you breathe in the leather once more. Merlin’s sake, this is exhausting. Even so, your limbs feel lighter in his arms. His eyes burn into yours and you don’t even try to look away, letting him extract whatever information he wants from you. You’re almost sure he can read every thought flashing through your eyes.

“Can’t you feel it?” His hand brushes your cheek, your skin buzzing on cue, “feel us? Like there’s a string pulling you to us, right? We feel warm, don’t we, and you want to be near us. You feel like you know us but you don’t know how or why.”

You find yourself nodding along to the words of a man whose name you don’t even know yet, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

“Who are you,” you turn to meet the other two, your eyes wide, “all of you.” 

The second man, the one who caught you, steps forward, holding out a hand for you to take. You aren’t sure why but you look back to the male in front of you, the one with his arms still tight around you, for approval. He nods, letting his arms fall almost reluctantly. When he releases you, you’re quickly pulled back into the pine scented chest. You don’t like how easily your body moulds to his, how his body seems to have some sort of claim on yours. How all of their bodies do.

“Elijah,” he rests his chin against your head, caging you against a chest that feels too much like home to make any sense, “I’m Elijah. You were just talking to Kol and Klaus-”

The hands, the same ones from before, once again rest on your back, drawing a traitorous sigh from your lips, “is right behind you, love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart squeezes dangerously at his words, letting them fill you with the warmth of his promise. Even if your rationality doesn't accept it for the immediate truth it is, every other part of you does. You pull out of Elijah’s arms and turn to the ocean of a man behind you, throwing your arms around his neck without a second thought. He, too, feels like coming home. He takes no time squeezing you against him and burying his face in your neck. You feel hands behind you move your hair away from your neck and then a nose drawing up the exposed bumps of your spine. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” you mumble into Klaus’ shoulder, “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

“Of course you do, darling. You can feel it in your bones,” Kol pushes his nose against your temple, his lips skimming your ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Merlin. His teeth on your skin sends heat pooling in the pit of your belly. You tighten your arms around Klaus, biting back an embarrassing moan as he laughs again. This time the sound echos through your chest and wraps around your heart, grabbing on and refusing to let go. Kol’s lips skim down your jaw, nipping lightly at your throat in a way that is completely inappropriate for a man you just met but you don’t care right now. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and you sink back into them, letting Elijah spin you and haul you into his chest. Your head is spinning from how quickly you’re being passed around by men you don’t know. Your heart stings slightly, the comfort you feel in the large male’s arms screaming at you. Perhaps you don’t know them but your body has been waiting centuries for them and is more than ready to reunite. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around him. 

“Baby,” your heart stutters and his pupils expand like he can hear it, “do you mind if we go back to our dorm before anyone sees us?” Elijah glances over your head, searching around the courtyard before landing back on yours, “This is a lot to explain to one person, let alone the whole school.”

Your cheeks flame for the millionth time and your head whips around, searching the courtyard yourself for any prying eyes. You breathe a quick sigh of relief when you don’t see anyone. He’s right and, besides, you really are freezing now, your exposed legs two icicles.

You smile gently at him, savouring the way his eyes draw to your lips, “that’s probably a good idea.”

You go to unwrap your legs from his hips when he stops you, his hands tightening around your back and thighs, “may I?”

Your eyes widen, your hands stilling on his shoulders, “you want to carry me?”

He leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently, “very much so, baby.”

Your heart feels like it restarts, kicking your pulse into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself to speak, your entire body engulfed in pine and flames like a forest fire that you never knew could exist. You just nod, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel every breath he takes, closing your eyes when he begins walking. 

The hallways, thankfully, feel empty and you don’t open your eyes, letting yourself sink into Elijah’s chest like you’ve been doing it your whole life and this isn’t your first experience being held by someone as large and strong as him. Your fingers, laying on the back of his neck, can’t resist shuffling through his hair. You’re already in his arms anyway, so what’s the harm. Just as you thought, his hair is soft to the touch and mesmerizing. You tangle your fingers through it, the last dregs of anxiety seeping from your bones. 

When he starts down a staircase that you aren’t anticipating you tighten your fingers, squeezing your thighs to keep from falling out of his arms. In turn Elijah releases a breathy groan, one that hits you directly between your thighs. When you open your eyes you’re met with a coal black instead of the warm brown from minutes ago. Your breath catches in your throat but not from fear, albeit it should be. You know you should be painfully afraid of this man, whom you barely know, whose arms are wrapped around you so tight it almost hurts, but you aren’t. Not even a little bit. 

Not even when he opens his mouth and you see two, very sharp looking fangs poking out of his gums, “Eli?”

You don’t know where the nickname comes from and, honestly, you don’t care. All you can think about is the irrational heat growing between your legs and his hands, once again squeezing your hips. Who is this man and why do you want him to press you against the stairs and do unspeakable things to you? You look over his shoulders at Kol and Klaus, whose eyes aren’t quite the same charcoal as Elijah’s but definitely not the sunshine whiskey that they were before. You have to bite your lip again to keep from squeezing your legs harder around Elijah. 

“Come on,” Klaus steps ahead of you and Elijah, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking teasingly, “I can hear people leaving the Great Hall.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. How can he possibly hear the Great Hall from here? You glance back to Elijah, the sight of his fangs flashing through your mind. You shake your head, not wanting to think about any of this right now. You reach a hand up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheek like any of this at all is normal.

“Klaus is right, Eli. We need to figure this out before it gets around the school.” More than it already is, you add in your head.

The four of you somehow make it to their dorm and you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s segregated from the rest of the dorms. McGonagall probably gave them their own dorm to make them feel more comfortable. You’re just thankful to be away from the open space. You already know the entire school will be talking about what happened. Merlin why is it always you? You’re just a Hufflepuff, you didn’t sign up for any of this. 

Their dorm is magnificent. The doorway leads into a moody common room, surrounded with cozy browns and greens. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there’s a window looking out into the lake. The waves lap against the glass and you giggle as a few fish swim by, stopping to look into the room and then continue on their way. The room smells like all three of them. Like every plain of earth and sea and air. There are four doors leading to what you can only assume are their bedrooms and bathroom. Compared to your dorm, which you love but also share with five other girls, this place is an oasis.

Elijah sets you on an incredibly soft, brown leather couch and you pull your legs up, tucking them underneath you. Kol settles next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch, behind your head. Klaus sits on your other side, pulling your legs from under you and over his lap, his hands rubbing circles on your calves. With your back now to Kol, you can’t help but let your head fall to the side against his arm, soaking in the warmth of his skin. The dungeons are colder than you thought they would be. How do the Slytherins do it? He laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to lay against his chest. 

Elijah settles on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at you with a look only slightly less hot than before. You hold a hand out for him, one he quickly takes, threading his fingers between yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips. Klaus’ hands are slowly working up your legs, now wrapped around your knees and steadily moving higher. You squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and staring at the ceiling, avoiding three pairs of brown eyes to the best of your ability.

You sigh gently, leaning into Kol’s hands as his fingers search through your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you almost keep your thoughts to yourself if only to ensure he doesn’t stop. But you need answers now.

“Okay, I’m serious this time,” your eyes train on a bookshelf, counting the books to keep yourself focussed, “who are you? You clearly aren’t like me, you aren’t witches, but you definitely aren’t regular people,” you suck in a breath, your eyes stalling on a thick book titled The History of Mythical Creatures, “so what, pray tell, are you?”

Your eyes stay focussed on the book but you don’t want to entertain the thoughts flowing through your mind. You had to read that volume in your seventh year myth class. Just because you’re a witch it doesn’t mean you’re used to the creatures you’re taught about. There’s a reason every student at Hogwarts takes eight years of defensive magic.

“You got us, little witch,” Klaus’ hands are above your knees now, kneading your exposed flesh with skilled fingers, “clever and beautiful. The perfect mate.”

Your eyes snap from the bookshelf, from the book that you know holds the answer to their identity, to the blonde lazily licking his own extended fangs. Mate. Did he just say mate? There’s no way he just said mate. Impossible. You’re a witch. As far as being mythical goes, you’re as close to normal as it gets. They, however, are something stronger. You can feel the power rolling off of them. 

“I,” your mouth falls open, your mind spinning, “what?”

Kol laughs from behind you, his chest rumbling under your back. He pulls your hair to the side again before capturing your ear with his mouth again. 

“You heard him, darling,” he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, pulling a tiny gasp from you as, “your ours. And, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pretty hard to get rid of. ”

Klaus’ hands squeeze right below the hem of your kilt, lighting your skin with the delicious sparks. If his hands weren’t there you would be squeezing your legs together for sure.

“He’s right, love, I’ve tried. Many times,” Klaus smirks at Kol in only the way an older brother could and it hits you.

“Oh, Merlin,” you close your eyes again, heat flaring across your face, “you’re brothers. All three of you are brothers. What is going on, Helga help me.”

All three of them laugh and Elijah kisses your knuckles again, “yes baby, we are in fact brothers. It’s been a long millennium.”

“Millenium?” You feel faint.

He laughs again and you wish you could pluck the sound out of the air and hold onto it for the rest of your life. When you look at him all you can do is smile and run a hand down your face. A thousand years, huh? Klaus’ hands trace lazy circles on your inner thighs as Kol’s lips find your neck, his teeth scraping your skin in a way that has you sinking even further into his buttery leather arms. When he bites down a touch harder you can’t help but wonder what kind of experience a thousand years would allow a person. 

A thousand years. Your chest stings unexpectedly as another thought hits you. It must be the day for that.

“I don’t think I’ll live a millenium. I probably have a few hundred years but a thousand? Not even close,” your heart stutters, a cold chill running over you, “You’ll all outlive me.”

Three growls sound in the room and you almost jump out of your skin in shock before you realize that they’re coming from them. Kol tightens his arms around you protectively as Klaus’ hands find your hips under your kilt, squeezing you like you just suggested you’re going to die tomorrow. Elijah drops from the coffee table, sinking to his knees in front of you and throwing an arm over your stomach. 

“You’ll be living a lot longer than that, baby, I assure you of that.”

You reach a hand towards Elijah, curling your fingers through his hair on instinct, “I may be magic, Eli, but I’m not immortal. It’s not the same for me.”

He leans into your palm, rubbing his cheek against your fingertips, “that’s an easy fix.”

Your head spins, the pieces connecting in your head as you stare into his serious eyes. For the first time all night a tinge of fear zaps your chest. Immortality is no joke.

“You want me to become like you?” You look away from him and Klaus, who nods in agreement with his brother, “You want me to become a-”

Kol nips the back of your neck and you try to ignore the pleasure rolling through you in the midst of the most serious conversation of your life, “a vampire, darling. You can say it. We’re vampires.”

The word echoes through you, bouncing around your head and lungs, fluttering in your stomach before finally settling directly between your thighs. Merlin. You sit upright quickly, pulling your legs from Klaus’ dangerously skilled fingers, and all but stumble over Elijah and the coffee table in order to put some distance between you and the brothers. You scrub your hands over your face, your entire body feeling more alive than it ever has in your short lifetime. But you know it can’t last.

You keep your hands over your eyes, letting the open air sooth you for a moment before speaking, “I’m just a witch. Just one witch and not even a good one at that,” you peel your hands from your eyes, opting instead to tug your hair, “I’m more of a farmer, honestly. I spend all my time in the library or the greenhouses. I’m not mate material. I’m definitely not,” you swallow thickly, your throat closing all of a sudden and without your permission, “vampire material. You have the wrong girl.”

As soon as you say the words they feel wrong but they’re already out of your mouth and you have to live with them now. For a long moment nobody says anything. It’s just you standing in front of them, your eyes refusing to open and your hands ripping at your hair. Your legs tremble beneath you and it feels like your heart is trying to crawl out of your throat. If it can’t be with them then it would rather stop beating altogether. The cold air of their dungeon dorm nips at your legs and fingertips painfully and you revel in the feeling of something other than the torrent of emotions that you’ve been battling for the better half of an hour. 

You feel a rush of air in front of you, forcing your eyes open just in time to see Kol standing in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to let even more words that you know you’ll regret out, but you find that you can’t speak. Not because you don’t want to, though, but because Kol’s mouth is now crashing into yours and, gods, does it ever feel like you’re breathing for the first time. Kol’s mouth is oxygen. Like before this moment you were dead and his lips are life. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into the taught muscle to keep yourself upright against this force of nature. 

His hands wrap in your hair and he tugs gently, swallowing each moan like it’s candy and he can’t get enough. Your hands crawl from his shoulders to his hair, doing the same to him. He groans, a sound completely different from Elijah but so similar at the same time. When his tongue finds its way between your lips you see stars. Your blood sings like you’ve walked through a magnetic field, your veins buzzing with a foreign kind of power. This time you don’t feel like you’re home, you know you are.

Kol pulls back a fraction, his lips brushing yours while he speaks, “you feel that?” His hands move to your cheeks, your skin like a current where he touches you, “I know you do, I know you feel me in your veins, darling. I don’t have the wrong person. Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes widen and you push back the swell of emotion rising in your chest.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, a riptide pulling you into an ocean of a man, “me as well, my little witch. Besides, I quite like farmers. Tell me, can you grow strawberries?”

You try to stop yourself from sagging against his chest but you can’t and you don’t actually want to. His head falls on yours as if he’s been doing it for years.

“Pumpkins,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, knowing full well you aren’t ready to answer the other questions, “I grow the best pumpkins in the school.”

Klaus’ chest rumbles like a cat purring against your back, “pumpkin pie it is then, love.”

You feel a hand close around your arm, pulling you from both Kol and Klaus and into a pair of arms that rival the dark forest. Elijah lifts you against his chest, giving you a moment to wrap your legs around him before he walks the two of you to the window. He looks out in the water and it eases you knowing that you don’t have to answer to his molten brown eyes.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, baby. I know you’re scared and tired, I can feel it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. But just know that we’re here because something stronger than time itself brought us to you. No mistakes were made,” he catches your eyes through the reflection of the glass, “I’m ready for whatever challenges this brings. I’ve been ready for a thousand years, ten lifetimes, and I would wait fifty more for you,” he pulls you further up his chest, pressing his forehead against yours, “just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours, “graduation.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and his eyebrows scrunched together, “what?”

You pull his face back to yours, stealing another kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return, “I just need until graduation. I need to finish my last year here, it’s my home. After that, I’m yours.”

He crushes you against him as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips and you let yourself giggle freely. He looks at you in awe, a smile blooming across his face like he just won the lottery. Kol and Klaus are next to you in an instant, their faces almost mirror images of Elijah’s. Your heart soars at the sight of the three boys you met less than three hours ago who you’ve just promised the rest of your life, and longer, to. It sounds ridiculous still but nothing has ever felt so right.

“Well, brothers,” Klaus’ eyes shine happily, “it looks like we’re going to be here longer than we thought.”