#i picked her up and prepped the bottle with her in my arms lol

[lilbreed1ngdoll]

when will my mom get the hint that i dont want her anywhere near my baby. as soon as i see her get close, i take my baby away. stop!!! please, respect it!! go away!!

[simp-ly-writes]

My Girl

Can be read as a standalone. "Can you check my heart?" - pt.2

Paring: Jack Glass x afab!Reader

Summary: You are a part of Jack's ringside team. When you both start to drift apart, Jack realizes how much he needs you and he's willing to do just about anything to have you stay close.

Warnings: 3000~ words, I know hardly anything about boxing/competitive fighting. Mutual pining, emotional angst, mentions blood and injury, light swearing, violence, protectiveness, jealousy, and fluff.

A/N: Kinda wrote more than I was expecting... lol.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

↳ You open Jack's apartment with a series of knocks, waiting a moment before unlocking the door. The brown paper bags, stuffed to the brim with his nutritional intake for the next two weeks burn your arms as you curse yourself out, an apple falling out of the bag, off your foot and rolling down the hallway as you set the bags down on the countertop and chase after it.

You heard a series of moans, the bed creaking and the headboard slamming against the wall and Jack groaning out praise after praise to the girls muffled cries. Rolling your eyes, you re-organize his fridge and call his meal-prep agent alongside the cleaner before leaving a note on the fridge that you were here. Locking the door back behind yourself, this was definitely nowhere near the first or last time you were highly aware of Jack's bedroom activities.

--

↳ At almost every team dinner, and even some where you thought to be a team dinner only to find Susie tipping her glass of red wine to you as Jack stood up to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, his newest date sitting down at the table- eyeing you up and down with disgust as you raised your chin and plopped yourself beside the Boxers sister rather than Jack himself.

↳ He often would vocalize when you stood to far away, talked with a team member for too long or didn't call him that day. You were used to his apparent clinginess, understanding of the tight relationship you had to form in order to take care of his welfare- or at least thats what you told yourself every night.

↳ Yet even after a break between fights, even when you did not put a plaster to his skin. Jack kept a box of kiddy band-aids in his travel bag or washroom, placing a colourful sticker to his skin as your eyes always fell to where-ever it was placed. Like clockwork, his date would ask why he wore such childish things and Jack would shrug his shoulders every time, casting an arm over the back of their chair, watching as their cheeks painted themselves pink and changed conversations.

--

↳ In the mornings you would rip the blinds and windows open to air out the room form the smell of sent and musk, his date would stumble out of the bed, face flushed and run towards the washroom- taking the dirty sheets with them as Jack would lean against his forearm, laying still against the headboard with a smile as he stared at your beauty in the morning light. How the rising sun wrapped around the curls of your hair like a halo. "Mornin'" he said in a sleepy tone as you shoved a cup of coffee and protein muffin into his hands you picked up on your way here. A separate pastry already sitting on the bedside for his date.

"Good morning Mr. Glass," you spoke in an even tone, in recent times you started to notice more and more how your eyes lingered on his back muscles that flexed during training as you sat on the sidelines, bag ready and waiting to treat any injuries. His date always sat beside you as you did your best to tune out their overwhelming stupidity towards the sport. Your heart would race every time he would pull you into a deep hug after every victory no matter how big or small. Or the rush of blood to your face whenever he called out by one of his nicknames for you.

Susie had also made comments as she surprised you one day, bottle open from your wine storage as two glasses were freshly poured and waiting on your coffee table. She swirled her glass, asking if you and her brother were anything more, warning you against any further steps. You respected Susie, being a women in such an industry was a sight to behold no matter how many times Jack turned you away from any extra violence his family was starting to become known for. You promised her nothing would ever happen as she shook your hand to that.

So you called Jack by his last name, giving him a title to set yourself apart. You stopped giving him your colourful plasters, walked faster in front of the man and sat across from him in the car so that his tired head would no longer sleep against your shoulder in the car. You felt his stares as you moved away from him yet you did not know of his heartache.

Pulling yourself back from into the present as the toilet flushed and the girl poked her head out, already looking towards you with a guilty look, you poked inside Jack's closet, presenting her with a t-shirt of his and her pants from the floor as the door closed one again. "Are you staying for breakfast?" Jack asked with a small voice, taking another snip of his coffee.

You looked down at your watch, cursing out as you tapped your foot against the hardwood floors, paying no mind to his question- you were dead-set into work-mode. "You have training at the Halstead estate in forty minutes. I need her out of here in the next ten and you in the car in under twenty."

"Do I get a reward for being quicker than that?" Jack teases, stretching out as his bones crack, sheets sliding off his lap as you begin your swift departure out of the room. You stop for a moment, door open as you cast your chin over your shoulder, "No, but it would make your clients happier," and with that you close the door behind yourself and make your way towards the lobby.

Jacks manager eyes you up and down with a raised brow, "You alright?" He asks concerned as you shake yourself out and scroll through your emails, forwarding a few to the man, "Yes, I should be," you state while hopping into the passengers seat, giving the driver a smile as the passengers board in the back, the wheels turning into the city streets.

--

Everyone on the team had seen the physical and emotional changes to their fighter as you spent less and less time with him. Those daily calls now weekly check-in's, you only saw one another in the ring and during practice. He was more stoic his once charming personality on camera now sharp words and stares much like his fighting style. He threw heavier punches, anger coating his features as he did not care for himself- smiling at the pain knowing that you would come and see him afterwards.

You stood, bandages in hand, sadly not coloured as you taped his face and adjusted his nose. His blood dripped down your hands as he picked up the cooling towel from around his shoulders and started to dry the blood off your hands, hating to see the way it stained your skin yet you pulled away, slamming a water bottle in his face while taking a step back for his trainer to give pointers once more. Jacks gaze was set on you as he nodded to the notes, you held his gaze before slipping under the ropes and back down to ringside.

Susie flashed you a smile as you gave her own of your own, leaning back in a chair as you smiled soon turned into a series of winces as Jack pummelled his opponent into the mat, slamming fist after fist right in front of where you both were sat.

His nose was beyond repair, front teeth missing as his opponent began chocking on his own blood. The ref called for the match to be over, pulling Jack off the broken and bruised to victory. Jack relished the cheers before casting his gaze towards you, his glove pointed outwards as his mouth piece hanged out the corner of his mouth.

Susie stood up, walking in front of you and into the ring as you moved towards the locker room to prepare your gear. You winced as the other boxer was wheeled out to an awaiting ambulance beside you. Zipping open your bag, you set up your scissors tape and chemicals before pulling up a chair to the centre of the room.

Jack waltzed his way in, and spun himself into the chair before you, his gloves raised with a smirk as you made work of them. Slipping them off, handing the red gloves to his sister who placed them carefully into the bag at the side. You leaned over Jack's face, applying chemicals with cotton swabs as you grasped his chin, tipping his face to ensure you gathered every scrape.

Your gaze followed the sweat still slipping off his forehead, down his chin and neck, down towards his abs that flexed with every breath he took. You noticed a small cut to the right side of his chest as you stepped in between his extended legs and gently pressed against the area, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder with gentle hands.

Just as you were about to step away, Jack looped his fingers through your belt loops and pressed his forehead to your shoulder as he grounded himself to the sound of your breaths. "Mr. Glass, I have told you not to overexert yourself, you had by far the judges opinion at the half-way mark, there was no need to push yourself so far. It could lead to injuries, taking you out of the ring for months if you do this too much like you have..."

You feel sympathy for the man before you, feeling as his hands shake at your hips before you start to comb your fingers through his hair. He moans out at the contact, pressing his face further into your stomach as you blush and look around the room to here his date stood. You quickly flash your eyes between her and the top of Jacks head as she receives the message and starts to make her way towards you both.

Once she is stood just behind you, you slip away as she replaces you just as quickly. Upon the first touch, Jacks eyes flash open as he raises his head, standing up tall as the girl steps away, confused. You have your back turned, zipping your bag closed as Jack stalks up behind you. "Mr. Glass whatever is the matter?-"

"The matter," Jack chews the words, spitting them right back in your face with a glare. "The matter is you. It is Jack to you, not fuckin' Mr. Glass. Now do tell me, what did I do? Or whatever fucker made you act this way?"

Your eyes go wide, this is the first time Jack had ever raised his tone with you as you clench your bag to your front in a way to protect yourself. Adrenaline was still strong in his system, only fuelling his anger. His muscles flex as he restrains himself yet as the girl from behind him takes a step forward and your eyes dart over to her own in a sorry for this, I don't quite know whats going on look. He presses his hands either side of your head against the wall of lockers, ensuring your attention remains on him.

"Mr. Glass this is highly inappropriate," you speak out while looking at him dead in the eyes. "It. Is. Jack. Now tell me, who?" His one presses forward as you hear multiple footsteps exit the room, the tension eating away all the oxygen in the room as they stand for air. You shake your head, "It was never you Jack..."

His forehead now leans against his own as he asks you again in a lighter tone, pleading. "Then who made us act this way?"

"I-I can't say-" He pulls away hands dropping from the sides of your head and onto your shoulder as he realizes the panic set in your eyes, his heart aching in newfound pain.

"Was it my manager, my trainer, Audrey..." he searches your eyes for clues as he lists every name he knows, "... my sister?" BINGO, you cast your eyes away, looking at her guilty as she stands, shoulders straight and tall, glancing between your both. You close your eyes, Jack presses a kiss to your cheek as your signature blush finds its way back across your cheeks as you allow yourself to fall to the bench underneath you.

Jack walks across the room, daggers in his eyes as he stares down his sister, "Why." He states rather than asks as Susie meets his gaze with an equally hard one, "You are a professional, Jack. We cannot be mixing vices-"

"They were never one of those to me-"

"Well you fucking might as well treated her like one- or actually less than that, making her hear every time you came when she took care of every one of your other needs. Forcing her to attended non "work-related" dinners with another woman on your arm..." she continued to list as you let your dip, his current date no where to be scene as guilt started to consume you for making such a mess.

Susie continued, "I was doing what I thought best to protect two of my friends, seemingly from one another." You shake your head in your hands, overwhelmed with emotions, you were upset with yourself, with Jack for how his outburst and with Susie for having one foot on the right side and another in the wrong.

Jack kneels in front of your from as Susie leaves the room to let the two of you be. He removes your hands from your face, holding them in his own. "Did you really feel that way? Like I used you?" Jack asked in a featherlight tone, voice warm and comforting in comparison to his earlier tones.

"Jack, I know you are my boss. You are my work in the end ad whatever silly little feelings I had could never be anything more. Sure I hated see you with those other women, hated waking up every morning to walk into a room with your dick wet in another woman. I was always holding you so close and yet we were also so far away from one another. Susie made me realize how toxic I was being to myself, holding out for something that wasn't right and... I distanced myself to what a relationship like ours should look like."

Jack nods his head, maintaining focus to your every word as he wipes away your tears with a fresh towel from your bag. You laugh internally, realizing how the roles have been reversed just as another cry escapes between your lips to Jack's next words.

"I'm sorry for making you feel this way. I... I wanted you- want you so bad but everyone around me said that I would end up losing you- making me think that I was never good enough for you. So I tried to get rid of these pent of feelings, these emotions and every time I was with someone- could only see small features of them I liked that reminded me of you... it was always you in my head, giving me something to fight for, fight myself for..." Jack takes a deep intake, his hands now playing with your own as he intertwines your fingers together.

"...I never want you far, can't function without you, fuck- I fucking love you for lack of better words." You both chuckle out through your own tears, arms wrapped around one another as you sit in the dirty locker room. "I love you too, Jack. Even when its not good for me," you whisper into his hair, soaking in his touch after so long apart.

"But if this is going to work, you need to promise me a few things," you state, gripping his shoulders, feeling him press a light kiss to your neck. "Anything to keep this," he gives you a light squeeze as you shake your head at his corniness. "I know you secretly love it, doc."

"No more hook-ups, no more overexerting yourself, and no more "work-related dinners." I am getting your manager to hire you a new assistant," Jack nods his head to every demand. "Your wishes are to be fulfilled, but you are stayin' ring side right?"

"Of course, Jack," you say, pressing a coloured plaster to the back of his neck. It has various puppy-dogs sitting on a hill together. Jack chuckles feeling as you brush his hair back into place with the small claim again. "I miss these."

"How'd you know I placed one?"

"Something in me clicked into place." You groaned out at this comment, doing your best to pull away as you jokingly gaged. Jack picks you up as you quickly latch your arms around his neck as he walks you both out towards the car. A bright smile casting over his features as the rest of the staff members pack the gear away in the boot.

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

<3

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵��̹̜̣͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

[blackjacktheboss]

Hi!!! "What's going on?" Percabeth please?

here’s a dumb something lol I can’t look at it anymore 

The bar is crowded with a couple hundred Manhattanites drowning their sorrows at the end of another grueling work week, and among them is Percy Jackson. He sits at a corner table with coworkers he barely tolerates nodding and smiling politely as Matt Sloan regails them with tales from his boarding school days.

I need this job, Percy reminds himself. I need this job. I need this job. I need this job. I need--

“Earth to Jackson,” Matt says, snapping his fingers in front of Percy’s face. “I asked if you ever went to any boarding schools.”

“Meriweather Prep for a year,” Percy says as he takes a sip of his beer.

“No shit! I went there for a couple years.”

Percy forces a smile. “No way, that’s crazy.”

Matt goes on to tell the group about how great the parties at that school were, while Percy thinks of every time Matt shoved him into lockers when he walked by him in the hallways.

God, I hate this kid, Percy thinks as his knee bounces. He frowns as he notices his beer is all gone and gets up to head to the bar.

“You getting a refill?” Matt asks.

Percy freezes, cursing himself for not surveying the table before getting up. “Uh.. yeah.”

“Great,” Matt says, clapping a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you.”

It takes all of Percy’s effort to not roll his eyes in front of his other coworkers, instead just nodding as Matt leads the way.

Percy drums his fingers on the bartop and tries to focus on catching a bartender’s eye.

“I remember you, you know,” Matt says, leaning in close to Percy to shout over the cacophony of music and conversation. “I just didn’t wanna embarrass you since, you know, you weren’t the most popular guy in school.”

Percy takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes on the bottles behind the bar. “You’re too kind.”

“‘Course, man.”

It takes a few more minutes to get the bartender’s attention, during which Matt lists off all the girls from Meriweather that he slept with while Percy reminds himself that he can’t punch the VP’s nephew and keep his medical insurance.

“Well, hello,” Matt says, standing up straight as he grabs his drink from the bar. He nudges Percy’s arm. “Jackson, twelve o’clock.”

Percy turns to his left and at the end of the bar, through the moving crowd of people, he sees a tall blonde wearing a black silky tank top and dark jeans that hug her figure perfectly with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, from which a cascade of curls fall. She seems to be scanning the crowd for someone and Percy smiles as he thinks of kissing her.

“Wish me luck,” Matt says, pushing past Percy.

“Don’t you think she’s out of your league?” Percy calls after him.

Matt turns around momentarily. “I’m Matt fucking Sloan.”

Percy rolls his eyes and turns to settle the tab, because of course Matt didn’t pay. As he signs the receipt and picks up his beer, he prays that he hasn’t missed the show.

As Percy walks up, Matt’s face is right up against the blonde’s ear as she grimaces.

“Oh, thank god,” she says when she notices Percy.

Percy smiles wide as she pulls away from Matt and greets him with a hug, and his hand settles on her lower back.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “Need a drink?”

She happily grabs his beer and takes a sip. “I tried calling you.”

“I left my phone back at the table, sorry,” Percy says.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks, pointing between Percy and the blonde, whose arm is now draped casually across Percy’s shoulders.

“Right, where are my manners,” Percy says. “Matt, this is my girlfriend Annabeth. Annabeth, this is my coworker Matt.”

“You’re his girlfriend?” Matt asks, not even trying to hide his shock.

“Two years and counting,” she answers. “So while I appreciate your offer to rock my world tonight, I’m gonna have to pass. For just… so many reasons.”

Percy is on cloud nine the rest of the night as Annabeth spends it all over him, kissing him at every chance and never taking her hands off him longer than necessary. His head spins as he soaks up all the affection, and the looks of envy that Matt shoots his way from the other side of the table don’t hurt either.

A couple hours later they bid his coworkers farewell and Percy exchanges a tension-filled handshake with Matt before leading Annabeth out to the street.

“You undersold how much of a tool that guy is,” Annabeth says as they exit the bar.

“Really?” Percy asks. “I feel like I talk a lot of shit about him.”

“So,” she says teasingly, wrapping both arms around his neck. “What are we gonna do now?”

Percy slides his hands into the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her closer. “First, we’re gonna go home.”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling as he squeezes her ass.

He leans in until his lips are against hers. “And then I’m gonna rock your world.”

Annabeth throws her head back as she cackles and Percy places a kiss to the side of her neck, thanking the stars for sending him this impossibly perfect partner-in-crime.

[writtenvisionary]

Pique, Turn - #AdrienAugust

Day 11 - “Partners” @adrienaugust

Read on Ao3

Might make this into a multi chap idk lol

His shoes squeaked on the floor as he lifted one leg up, bringing his arms to a circle shape, and made a 360-degree turn… one, two, and three times. Green eyes stared at the same spot across the room, keeping the blonde boy from getting dizzy. When he stops spinning, he releases his tight hold by allowing his right foot to fall behind him into his prepping position.

He breathes a smile as the dance teacher claps, commenting on his technique and how it is nearly perfect.

“Thank you again, Adrien, for agreeing to step in for this competition season,” she says.

Adrien smiles, walking over to his bag by the wall and picking up his water bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he responds.

“It’s no problem! I needed a change of environment, actually. My mother’s studio gets kinda stuffy sometimes.”

Her content expression turns into something more sullen as he takes a large gulp of water.

“Ah, yes. I am so sorry for your loss. How are you doing?”

He shrugs, screwing the bottle cap on.

“I’m alright. Dancing helps me take my mind off the tragedy, at least.”

That’s all it takes for her happy, contented expression to return.

“I’m glad! Well, our group lesson is about to begin. I’d like to introduce you to everyone, as well as your duet partner.”

He nods, grateful that the conversation is back to dance.

“Of course. I’m going to have a snack real quick, if that’s okay.”

“Yes! Take your time.”

She turns away and walks out of the room, leaving him alone in the dance studio.

He sighs, wanting nothing else but to dance, but he knows that his body needs fuel. Especially after such a tiring class.

Adrien’s mother had opened a dance studio a few years before he was born, so he had been training ever since he could remember. After she had tragically passed away from cancer two months ago, he had fought to keep the studio up and running. But as he told Ms. Monroe, it has been very stressful. Adrien feels as if he’s suffocating, simply being there. That’s why he couldn’t resist taking her offer for dancing on her advanced team.

He had been an instructor, taking over his mother’s duties when she had fallen ill. Coming back to his roots was refreshing, to say the least. Plus, he gets to meet his new team, which he is so excited for.

After snacking on his carrots and scrolling through Instagram for a few minutes, the sound of footsteps catches his attention. He looks to the door, finding a girl with curly brown hair and woah.

His chewing ceases as he ogles the bluenette walking in next to her. She’s beautiful. With her shiny, black hair that looked blue in the light… her pink lips.

He blinks, shaking his head and looking away.

I can’t think like that. Be professional, Adrien. Don’t disappoint your mother.

Before he’s even aware, class has started.

Ms. Monroe clears her throat and brings her hands together, making a smack sound echo throughout the room.

“Hi everybody! So as you all know, Tommy just recently moved to Ohio to be with his family due to an emergency. This put a halt on our competition rehearsal schedule. I have taken it upon myself to find a new member for our advanced team, so if you could all please welcome Adrien Agreste!”

She gestures him to join her, to which he does, and the girls in the front row seem to freeze. A blush creeps onto his cheeks as he watches their eyes widen, turning to look at one another in alarm.

“He is an instructor at the Agreste Dance Company. He has been kind enough to help us train for and win this next competition! I will be introducing him to his duet dance partner privately after we rehearse our group number.”

Adrien’s eyes find the bluenette from earlier, causing her cheeks to flush. 

She looks to her feet, knowing that Tommy was my partner so that means Adrien will be my partner. Ohmygosh he is SO HOT—

Ms. Monroe’s clap brings her back to reality.

“Alright, let’s practice!”

——

The group routine went smooth enough, considering that Adrien was still learning all of the moves. He would be lying if his eyes weren’t on a certain blue-haired beauty in front of him. Her movements were fluid and elegant, as if she was an angel floating across the room.

It was a jazz piece, and each snap of her arm or leg caught his attention. He knows that everyone is supposed to work in conjunction and that one person shouldn’t stand out more than the others, but it isn’t his studio and he’s not in the place to critique. Thank goodness, because this girl deserves every solo.

She’s beautiful and talented, and her eyes sparkle and — okay, be professional.

It’s hard to be professional, though, when she’s right there.

“Alright, everyone! That was excellent. Keep up the good work and I will see you all tomorrow.

“Marinette, Adrien. Could you two stay after?”

He wasn’t sure who Marinette was, but he was about to meet her.

Everyone starts to slowly file out of the room, and he glances around nervously to see who isn’t moving to leave. The curly-haired girl with glasses is already halfway out the door. He frowns, wondering who his partner could be.

His eyes widen when he realizes there’s only one girl, besides Ms. Monroe, left in the room — and that the girl is the one who’s been catching his eye this entire time.

“Adrien, meet Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, meet Adrien Agreste.”

He smiles awkwardly as their instructor introduces them to one another and the girl returns the gesture.

“Hi,” she says softly.

The butterflies in his stomach basically explode when he hears her voice. It’s so cute.

“Hi,” he responds.

She giggles, making him weak in the knees, but he stays strong. With a small burst of confidence, he takes a step forward and kisses her cheek.

He tries not to notice her blush, and to ignore the blush that is creeping onto his cheeks.

“Pleasure to meet you, Marinette.”

“You too, Adrien.”

Ms. Monroe must have decided that was enough because she claps her hands and gets down to business.

“So, this duet is a contemporary piece. Marinette already has her part all memorized, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about, especially since we’re short on time. We will be running the number step by step at first, until you have all of the steps down. Then we’ll speed it up. Okay?”

He nods, putting his game face on.

Each step by itself was pretty easy, in his opinion. He picked up all of the moves very quickly and before he knew it, they were already rehearsing the dance together.

Luckily, he was able to maintain his focus. Learning a new dance always came before his feelings; those feelings would help him build chemistry with his partner when the time comes. For now, he knew that knowing the steps and getting the flow down were his top priorities.

“One more time.”

This time, he let himself feel.

He paid attention to the girl he twirled into his arms. He acted the part and pretended like they were truly falling in love.

When blue eyes met green, they froze.

Maybe… maybe he really was falling in love.

Her eyes are like the ocean. They were pulling him in, and he was drowning. Lost in the deep sea, unable to float up to the surface. They shone so bright, twinkling, and he had to blink but he didn’t want to.

If this is what it’s like falling in love, he never wanted to stop.

“Guys? Marinette?”

She snaps her head to the right to look at Ms. Monroe, breaking the eye contact and giving him a chance to breathe.

“Is everything alright?”

Marinette gulps and nods, purposely avoiding the blonde who was still staring at her from the side.

“Okay… take it from the top.”

Reluctantly, she looks back to him. And once again, they’re lost in a trance. The music had started again but they weren’t moving.

Ms. Monroe just groaned in frustration. He thought he heard her mutter, “Young love, god help me,” but he didn’t care enough to make sure.

A smirk played on his lips, pulling the bluenette in his arms closer to his chest.

“Hey, um….”

Shit. My nerves are kicking in. Quick quick quick!

“Do you wanna,” he licks his lips. “Do you ���maybe— wanna, uh, get some dinner with me tonight? After we’re done here?”

Her breath hitches. He’s afraid he made a mistake.

But then she smiles.

And he knows that if it was a mistake, then it was a good one.

“S-sure.”

Marinette clears her throat, pulling away from him and looking at their instructor. She shrinks into herself at the look of frustration that Ms. Monroe is conveying on her face. Then she turns back to him.

“Let’s finish this number, though.”

He smiles, then winks.

“Right. Let’s do it then, partner.”

[skinsharpenedteeth]

Sex Week - Moanday

So the original list of these was posted by Kinkly.com on their Instagram, but i looked at it was like “that would make a great fic challenge for myself. I like writing smut and i have commitment issues so a week should be about my attention span...” and anyway... This week I’m going to post a ficlet for each day. @malzysaur​ also said she’d post some as well, but it’s not an official “challenge” unless you just want to do it for yourself some random week. Lol. Expect some fucking crack fic, some high level smut, and all those character in the pictures. I’m going to branch out and not just write Malex for once. I’m also going to try and keep these under 2k. 

Anywho, here’s my Moanday entry featuring Malex. It’s 1579 words long and if I have to tell you it’s explicit then you’re not paying attention and I no longer feel any remorse for the outcome of your decisions. Tags would be D/S undertones, dirty talk, anal sex, muffled sex, clothed sex, semi public sex, uhmm... i think that’s it?

2/8/2021 Moanday (Also on AO3!)

     It wasn’t easy fucking Alex in the middle of the day. He was simply loud at the best of times and at the worst, he was loud and mouthy.

     He also liked to get caught, liked people to walk in on him with his ass in the air, dick dripping, mouth wide with pleasure and sound, and someone’s tongue (preferably Guerin’s) shoved as far into his ass as it could go. Michael usually didn’t mind if anyone saw him reducing Alex to vowel sounds, but Isobel had asked him to be on his best behavior for the Junior League Winter Luncheon  and he was determined not to upset her…. But Alex had also asked him to meet him in the lobby so they could look at one of the paintings up for auction, which apparently was code for ‘Fuck me hard in the coat check closet until I ruin Mrs. Dunfrey’s nice wool coat’. It was a new one and he hadn’t been prepared for Alex to grab him by the lapels of his new suit jacket and pull him unceremoniously into the warm, soft confines of the coat room as soon as the coast was clear. 

    “Alex! What are you--,” Michael started, but was interrupted by Alex’s open mouth on his, tongue plunging in to make his intentions crystal clear. Michael broke off the kiss and hissed into Alex’s ear, “Alex! I told Iz I’d behave!”

    “Which is why I’m not under the dinner table blowing you while I jack off onto your shiny black shoes,” Alex retorted hotly, pushing Michael’s jacket off his shoulders as he spoke. Michael’s eyes might have rolled back into his head a little at the mental image and he missed what Alex said next. 

    “Wait, what?” Michael asked, trying to catch Alex’s hands as they deftly unbuttoned his dress shirt and moved towards his pants. 

    “I said, we’ve got ten minutes until the end of lunch when everyone will start flooding that lobby. That means you have nine and a half minutes to make me cum or we’re going to have an audience.”

    “Why did you wait so late to bring me in here?” Michael admonished, starting to get with the picture and help to get his pants down and his cock out. Alex just grinned at him and Michael cursed under his breath. 

    “I hope you did the prep work before you got me in here or you’re just going to have to wait til we get back to your place,” Michael said in a resigned, but stern voice. Alex just winked at him and turned around. Michael watched as he pushed down his slacks and underwear just low enough so he could spread his cheeks to expose his shiny, lube smeared hole to Michael’s scrutiny. Michael reached out and rubbed two fingers over the slick, soft muscle and he swore softly. Alex hummed in appreciation at his touch and Michael looked up in time to see his smug, triumphant smile as he watched Michael over his shoulder. 

    “You’re such a fucking brat,” Michael growled and pushed Alex to lean against the wall, his back arched and ass presented as much as he could while standing. “Give me the lube.”

    Alex grabbed the small bottle out of his jacket pocket and handed it back to Michael who slicked up his cock hastily. He dropped the mostly empty bottle onto the floor and lined himself up, pushing into Alex much more quickly than he might if they’d had more time. The fit of Alex’s body around Michael’s cock was tight and perfect and it made him want to waste time fucking Alex slow and deep drive just to drive him crazy, but the clatter of silverware and din of voices was only a wall away and he knew he had to be fast. Pulling back, he pushed back in hard and started a punishing rhythm. 

    Alex’s moaning started out as pants and gentle ‘oh’s that would easily be muffled by the walls of coats surrounding them, but as Michael pushed and adjusted Alex’s hips so he could properly batter his prostate, they started picking up in frequency and volume. On a particularly ringing “Jesus FUCKING Christ!”, Michael knew it was time to help Alex stay quiet. He leaned over Alex’s back and clapped his hand around his mouth to cover the next loud sound that was midway to escaping. Already the slapping sound of their bodies was too much, but Michael couldn’t quite make himself slow down yet.  He moved his lips close to Alex’s ear so he could keep his voice low.

    “You fucking cock slut. You couldn’t wait half an hour for us to get home to get filled by my dick? Couldn’t just sit on your hands and wait? Did you make Forrest fuck you all over town in every semi-private spot you could find?” Michael asked, breath and voice harsh against Alex’s ear. Alex shook his head, another loud moan pressing into Michael’s palm. The door to the banquet hall opened and Michael froze as he heard multiple voices come out into the lobby outside. Alex whimpered and started to fuck back onto Michael’s stationary cock while Michael tried to figure out if they’d run out of time or if these were simply early departees. Alex tightened his internal muscles around Michael, bringing his attention back to what was happening in the coat room in front of him, and Michael had to press his mouth into Alex’s shoulder to keep from cursing out loud at the blinding pleasure. The party guests sounded like they were right on the other side of the door that hid them and Michael was sure he was about to be found balls deep in Alex Manes who had taken his pause in movement as an invitation to  start to grinding back against his cock while squeezing his muscles and milking him for all he was worth. Alex’s actions were getting Michael perilously close to cumming and when he looked down between them, the sight of Alex’s rim clinging to his length as Alex moved over him was almost enough to make him lose it. Michael reached forward and grasped Alex’s cock firmly, keeping him spread on his dick and pressed tight against him. Alex stopped moving and waited for Michael to tell him what to do.

     “Good boy,” Michael breathed  the praise against the shell of Alex’s ear. “Since you want to do all the work, I’m going to let you fuck my fist while you bounce that ass against me. Take what you need, baby, but if you get loud, I’m going to pull out and we’re going to finish this at home. Is it a deal?”

      Alex nodded and Michael could feel his throat work around a swallow. He started slow, positioning Michael’s fist at a better angle after the first few thrusts so he could roll his hips more smoothly between the cock in his ass and the hand in front of him. Once he felt confident, he used the wall as leverage to fuck back onto Michael’s cock roughly. The precum leaking from his cock was easing the way for his thrusts and Michael could see him starting to lose himself in the moment. He was so hard as he pushed into Michael’s grip that he could tell he was getting close. When his movements started to get sloppy, either from fatigue or from getting close to finishing, Michael took back over. Roughly he pushed Alex forward until he was almost flat against the wall and then he started pounding into him. It was louder than was safe, but Michael didn’t think they’d be at it long enough to matter. Alex was already biting his own forearm as his body tightened almost painfully around Michael’s piercing ruts. 

    “You going to cum for me, baby? Going to stain these coats with your spunk so we can go home and I can take you apart some place more private? Where I can get my mouth on this poor, abused, little, pucker?” The last part Michael said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a hard, directed thrust as he felt Alex starting to cum. Michael milked Alex’s cock with his hand while he chased his own release, needing it now that he’d gotten Alex off. Alex was whining into his arm at the overstimulation of Michael’s savage thrusts, but it didn’t matter. Michael was tipping over into his own orgasm quickly, balls drawn tight, and cum painting his claim on Alex’s insides. When he finished, gasping breaths into Alex’s shoulder, he gently pulled back to slip out of Alex’s body. 

     “Fuck, Michael…” Alex panted, cum drunk and almost boneless between Michael’s weight and the wall. Michael looked down between them and could see his cum pushing out of Alex’s body and starting to slide down the insides of his thighs. 

     “Just look at the mess I made of you,” Michael commented, running his finger over the red, puffy rim of Alex’s hole and smearing his leaked seed over it. The sight made him want to go again and his alien biology made his refractory period practically nonexistent when he wanted it to be… but Alex’s body needed a break. He leaned forward and kissed up Alex’s neck to his cheek. 

     “Let’s get dressed so I can say goodbye to Isobel. I’m ready to go home so we can get you cleaned you up,” Michael said sweetly. Alex hummed in delighted agreement and leaned his head back onto Michael’s shoulder. 

     “Will you give me a massage when we get home?” Alex asked, voice sounding tired after their activities. 

     “I always give you what you ask for, baby.”

[trvelyans-archive]

i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year  suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

[knightofameris]

bitter endings - aoba johsai

✎ setting. Spring Inter-high Aoba Johsai vs. Karasuno ✎ gender. Female ✎ contains. Kindaichi is referred to as Yuutarou/Yuu but also just Kindaichi lol (you’re his older sister), curse words, you are... mom of Aoba Johsai so now Iwaizumi is no longer mom and dad but just dad, god bless your soul ✎ wc. 4k

✎ summary. And so, your three years as the manager of Aoba Johsai slowly comes to a bittersweet end. It’s more bitter than sweet until your walk home. (Four separate endings depending on who you pick :3c)

✎ ameris’ notes. i could NOT stop thinking about this plot idea SOOOOOO i wrote it. 

sweet beginnings: hanamaki || sweet beginnings: matsukawa || sweet beginnings: iwaizumi || sweet beginnings: oikawa

Enjoy!

❝ new beginnings are often disguised as painful endings ❞

The air’s thick with tension as members of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team warm up before their match against Karasuno. Despite the fact that they won against them during the Interhigh match, it was way too close of a call. Even you didn’t expect that out of Karasuno’s team; afterall they were always known as “The Flightless Crows.” 

With a deep breath, you walk up to your younger brother, Yuutarou, and give him a quick elbow jab in the side.

“Ack! Nee-san!” Yuutarou glares down at you despite the grin on your face. The rest of the team glance over at the commotion caused by the two Kindaichi siblings. Kunimi is sure to grab the water bottle you give him so he could walk away as you lay torment on your younger brother.

“Relax, Yuu! Also,” you pinch his cheeks despite his attempts to stop you, “when’d you stop calling me nee-chan, come on Yuu!” 

“Now, now, Manager-chan!” Oikawa walks over, wrapping an arm around you. “Don’t go bullying our middle blocker.” You roll your eyes at him, feeling hints of a flush going up to your face. 

“He’s my brother, I can do anything, also you stink! Get off me!” You try shoving Oikawa off of you but his grip on your shoulder didn’t relent, he just laughed. To the rest of the team, this was normal. Afterall, you are one of the few that wasn’t a fangirl over Oikawa Tooru. Mostly because of the fact that you’ve spent the last three years getting to know him and the other third years. But you would be lying if you said he wasn’t pretty. He is pretty, but he’s a pretty bastard. 

A thwump of a ball hitting the back of Oikawa’s head echoes along with a pained grunt coming from the captain. 

“Get off of her, Shittykawa, we have to start heading over, anyways.” 

You look over, only to give Iwaizumi a thumbs up as a thanks despite his scrunched up face as he glares daggers at Oikawa besides you. You go ahead and start packing up the bottles into the carrier and collecting anything else the boys may have missed. 

You take your time, to make sure the boys didn’t leave anything behind and as you zip up the bag a pair of feet enter your line of vision. You glance up to see Hanamaki standing there and the two of you are now one of the last ones to hang around. 

“Thanks for that,” Hanamaki says. You tilt your head, confused as you place the bag strap on your shoulder. “You helped relax the team a bit.” 

You smile a bit, walking in step with him, “Well, I’m just doing what I can so you guys can play to the best of your abilities!” 

“Where would we be without our manager?” Hanamaki chuckles, a lazy smirk on his face as he looks down at you. 

“At the bottom of a ditch, maybe,” you joke back. The two of you walked in silence as you enter the main court, ready for the match against Karasuno. 

Both teams begin warming up, doing practice spikes, serves, and receives. While you begin prepping your notebook along with setting water bottles and towels on the bench for easy access, you notice your hands shaking. You curse when a few of the bottles clatter to the ground. You’re unsure why you of all people were feeling the pre-game jitters. It’s not like you are the one playing. 

Surprisingly, and yet unsurprisingly, one of the new members came to help pick up the bottles. Even if he is the slightest bit terrifying, you know that Kyotani wouldn’t do anything towards you. 

“Thanks Kyotani-san!” You smile at him. He grunts in response, going back to doing warm ups. Yahaba watches the entire ordeal as he sets up a few balls for Kunimi. It is strange to see Kyotani act so normal around you. Well, as normal as he can be. Sure at first he was a little rude but now, he does what you ask and helps out when need be. 

“How’d she even get on Kyotani’s good side?” Kunimi asks. 

“Well,” Yahaba begins to explain, setting another ball as Kunimi goes to stand beside Yahaba deeming his warm up satisfactory, “She’s the only one that Iwaizumi-san finds terrifying. And since Kyotani only listens to Iwaizumi, I guess he sees her as the top of the chain.”

Kunimi narrows his eyes, “Didn’t realize we were a pack of dogs.” 

A loud sigh leaves your mouth as you notice Oikawa trying to piss off Karasuno’s setter, Kageyama. As he laughed maniacally at Kageyama, who’s laying on the floor, you march up to hit him on his head. 

“Shittykawa, go do your warm ups and stop trying to be a bully!” You scold. You immediately bow to the Karasuno team, who only nod in response with slight fear. “Sorry about him!” 

“Aw! Manager-chan! You’re the bully here!” Oikawa whines. You send him a glare and he could only quickly back up with fear in his eyes. “Iwa-chan~ Manager-chan’s being scary!” 

“Shut up and practice some serves!” Iwaizumi barks. “And maybe you should call her by her name.” Matsukawa and Hanamaki are sure to throw in more jabs towards their captain.

You walk back to what you were doing before, only to see Yahaba about to do something stupid. You toss your head back with a groan. Just a bit longer as the mom of this team. Truly, you wondered what it’d be like if you left Iwaizumi to deal with everyone here. 

Yahaba tosses a ball towards the new Karasuno manager. Knowing exactly why, you immediately came between the ball and the new manager, who is only slightly intimidated by you. 

“Yahaba! Stop being an idiot and-”

“Watch out!” 

A ball flies out of nowhere, about to hit you but before you know it, Shimizu, the other manager, blocks the ball for you. You blink, stunned. 

“Thank you, Shimizu-san, and sorry about him,” you bow apologetically again, before grabbing the ball Yahaba tossed and storming over towards him. Your brother watches with curious eyes behind him. 

“This is why the first year manager-in-training quit! Because you keep doing weird shit!” You scold Yahaba as you recall trying to recruit another manager before you graduate. With that being said, you shove the volleyball into his arms and walk away. 

“Geez,” Yahaba glares at your receding form, “she’d be more attractive if she wasn’t so mean all the time.” 

“Oi!” Kindaichi’s face scrunched up so much that it was honestly on the same level as Iwaizumi’s pissed off face. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.” Yahaba looks away with a shiver, despite the fact that he was one year younger, Yahaba realizes he shouldn’t badmouth you in front of your brother.. 

Then, before you know it, Coach Irihata gathers the team around giving a pre-match pep talk. You hold the clipboard in your hand tightly as you stand facing the team as well. But then all eyes were on you. 

“Oh!” You widen your eyes, realizing that you should say something. “You guys all practiced hard, so this is the moment you’ll see whether or not your work will bear fruit. But now’s not the time to have any regrets with whether or not you practiced hard enough, because you did. But do your best to leave it all on the court and have as little regrets as possible, yeah?” 

“Yeah!” They shout back, Oikawa walks up beside you with a playful smile on his face. You smile back before turning to look back at the team. Mainly the other third years and your brother and his friend, Kunimi. But you are sure to give each member a reassuring smile.

“Thank’s Manager-chan~! Always our number one supporter,” Oikawa starts off before going on about Karasuno being a formidable enemy. 

And there he goes, walking off before turning around, “I believe in-”

“We believe in you,” the other third years interrupt before he can finish, “Captain!” You smile, knowing that they were all going to be alright, only to burst out into giggles as the other third years begin to wreck him, telling him that they owe him ramen if he misses. 

“Oikawa, I want tonkotsu! With extra fish cake!” You shout at him. His eyebrows twitch as the first and second years start joining in at Hanamaki’s request. You’re also sure to yell out your order once more as Oikawa preps for his serve, much to the coaches delight. The two of them sighing and shaking their heads with some amusement. 

A soft smile makes its way to your face as Oikawa does his run up for his jump serve.

***

The pain in your knee surged up your leg as tears gathered in your eyes. Your face was contorted as you bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears. The pulsing in your knee was overbearing along with the swellness around it. But the tears weren’t from the pain. No, it was from the idea that you may never play volleyball again. 

One of your teammates finally set you down after carrying you to the medical room and the athletic trainer immediately placed ice packs on your knee. 

The match was still on going but you knew you were out for the count. Especially as you saw your family, including your younger brother Yuutarou, already heading towards you. 

Days later at the doctor’s, you heard the exact words you never wanted to hear. 

“She can’t play volleyball anymore, maybe casually but even then. She needs a break from it before she can step on the court casually.” 

You spent your last few weeks at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High watching your brother play volleyball at his practices. You didn’t have the guts to go back to your old team because of how they told you you needed to stop pushing yourself. When you saw the captain of the boys’ team fall over from his knee, you made sure to help him. 

“Oi, nee-chan, what are you-” Yuutaro stopped speaking the moment he saw your face. 

“Oikawa-san, you should rest your knee,” you mention softly, tears settling on your lashes as it fell from your face. His previously angry face from his knee giving out and someone he doesn’t even know helping him relaxed when his brown eyes met yours. “If you don’t, you’ll end up like me and you won’t be able to play volleyball ever again.” 

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, Shittykawa,” the boy you knew as Iwaizumi scowled. But not as harshly as usual, as far as you could tell from watching their friendship from afar. 

It was through meeting the two of them that pushed you to become manager at Aoba Johsai anyway, you weren’t quite ready to leave the world of volleyball yet. 

***

Your clipboard falls to the ground, echoing across the court shortly after the ball hit the ground, signaling the end of the rally, the set, and the match. 

If you had known that was going to be your last match, you would have done something different. Honestly, you don’t even know what you would have done, but just something. Something to stop the tears you felt building up behind your eyes and sobs that were trapped in your throat.

Your coach clears his throat and you realize you had to stand up to bow. You couldn’t even pay attention to what the coach was saying as he gave the last words to the team. All you could focus on was how they started crying. So you did what you could before they went off to thank the crowds in the stands, so that you could be strong for them. 

“I’m proud of you guys,” you say with a smile. Yuutarou and many others begin to freely let the tears run, trying their best to wipe them away. Then you look away, because you’re sure that if you stare at any one of them in the eye you’d break down with them. 

With that being said, you begin packing to leave. You’re struggling to grab the water bottle bag to carry but a hand reaches out to grab it instead for you. 

“I got it,” Matsukawa says. 

With a nod, you thank him and head out with the rest of the team. You walk between him and Yuutarou, rubbing his back reassuringly as he tries to quiet his sobs. The rest of the team is quiet. 

Until Yuda Kaneo came charging with hysterical sobs, surprising all of you. The other third years, Sawauchi Motomu and Shido Heisuke, appear to hold him back but he breaks free, to grab Iwaizumi and pat his head. 

“Oi! Stop causing a ruckus!” You yell, going up to whack Yuda on the head once you see spectators and other onlookers watching with curious eyes. But part of you is thankful for him to break the silence.

***

You sigh as you eat your ramen, listening to your brother cry about what he could have done better. You reach for a napkin to wipe his tears and snot the moment Matsukawa points it out.

“Nee-chan, I’m sorry for being a disappointment!” He holds onto you, burying his face in your shoulder. You stare at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa in front of you with a straight face. But the two of them just slurp up their ramen, leaving you to deal with your hysteric brother.

“So now you call me nee-chan! Stupid, I’m always proud of you now stop crying and eat or you’ll choke!” You scold. Yuutarou sniffles as he pulls away, the corner of his eyes turning a shade of pink from all the rubbing. 

“Re-really?” he asks as the other two third years start their own conversation. 

You roll your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, grabbing the chopsticks to grab at the extra fish cake you got, thanks to Oikawa. 

“Of course, you’re my little brother.” You pinch his cheek before plopping it in your mouth then slurping the rest of the ramen. 

He stares at you with wide eyes before nodding his head with a grunt and immediately stuffing his mouth with ramen. 

***

“Hey, Yuu, I’ll be home later,” you tell him with the other third years behind you, wanting to spend the rest of whatever time you have left with your friends. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Get home safe! See you all later!” He bows his head with the other underclassmen and you wave. 

Matsukawa waves as well, “Yeah, see you later.” Despite the fact that they all knew that this team will no longer remain. At the very least, for any official matches. But each team every year will always hold a special place in their hearts, no matter the outcome. 

Oikawa curses and walks off, surprising you the most when you slightly jump. All of you head off, walking to wherever your legs took you as the third years bullied Oikawa. The sun was still setting, so you weren’t too worried about the time. In fact, it was nice and peaceful. 

Well as peaceful as it could be. You knew that this was just a way to prolong the impending sadness. 

“Oi! Why do you guys have to be so angry and loud all the time!” You shout as Iwaizumi beats up Oikawa. 

“Iwa-chan’s the one that’s always mad!” Oikawa defends himself. 

“You were the one that brought it all up in the first place because you were mad!” Iwaizumi yellsat Oikawa. 

“Man, I’m just glad I won’t have to manage you guys anymore, hmmph,” you lie. You turn your head the other way with closed eyes and walk off. But then when you open your eyes again, you realize you all walked back to the gym. 

“Hey,” you turn around and point to the gym doors, “let’s play a few rounds. But I wanna join.” 

“Eh?! But, your knee!” Oikawa points at your knee in question. You wave him off, already heading to open the door. 

“It’s been a few years since I had to stop playing, as long as it’s casual, it’s fine!” 

And that’s how you find yourself out of breath and exhausted. You rest your hands on your knees as you were bent over and trying to catch your breath. It had been much too long since you’ve played volleyball but you had missed it. But perhaps playing with the boys’ team who’ve been training their entire three years at Aoba Johsai wasn’t the smartest idea. 

At least, to make it easier, you were with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki. 

“I feel like I’m going to puke out all my ramen!” Hanamaki yells out with a large grin. 

“This was a horrible mistake,” you pant out. All eyes go to you and then your knee but you stand up straight, waving your arms in front of you. “Oh no, no! I just also feel like throwing up! Also I haven’t played volleyball in so long it’s tiring!” 

“At least you don’t have to deal with Oikawa’s jump serves!” Matsukawa glares at the boy in question who only shrugs with a dumb smile on his face. 

“Wait, can I try receiving it?” You stare up at Oikawa with hopeful eyes.

“No!” The entirety of the third years shout, filling up the room with their voices.

“That’s a bad idea, I can’t even take it sometimes,” Iwaizumi lets out a groan as he feels the food in his stomach digesting. 

“Oh, come on, I was the best at receiving back in the day, I did play libero at some point” you pout. They continue to argue against you until you arch your brow and place your hands on your hips. “Oh I see, you guys are just sexist.” 

Each one of them narrow their eyes at you. 

“No it’s because of your kne-” Matsukawa tries to talk but you raise your hand immediately shutting him up. Even if you knew that they were actually just concerned about your knee. You really wanted to receive one of his serves.

“Nope, excuses, excuses.” 

“Okay but, if we can’t take it,” Hanamaki points to the other third years in the gym. “With your bad knee it’s going to end up terribly.” 

“Bet!” You stick your tongue out at them. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible manager?” Iwaizumi asks, rubbing his temple. 

“Okay but, the underclassmen aren’t here. And I’m not your manager anymore. Just one receive. One!” You plead, putting your hands together as you bow your head. 

The third years exchange glances with each other before Oikawa lets out a sigh, grabbing a ball and going to the other end of the court. Matsukawa taking his place on your side. 

“Fine, one serve, and it’s not going to be my hardest one, final offer!” 

With a twinkle in your eye you bounce over to the middle of the court, ready to receive the infamous jump serve from the one and only, Oikawa Tooru. The other third years watch, worry but also excitement lay on their faces. 

“Bring it Oikawa!” You yell with a grin. 

The smack of the ball rang through the gym. And with the utmost concentration, you move towards the ball and receive it. It wasn’t perfect, as it didn’t go to the setter’s position. But you still received it. Expecting the heavy impact, you’re sure to roll back into the hit before standing back up into a jump. 

“Sorry! Cover!” You shout running back onto the court. 

The third years cheer as they set up an attack from your receive and Iwaizumi spikes it down to the other side. Before you know it, Hanamaki holds you up in the air on his shoulders with everyone on your side cheering for your receive. 

“Eyyy! Nice receive!!” Matsukawa calls out, his hands cupping his mouth so it was clearer when it got to you. You grin with a thumbs up, your knee pulsating a bit even as Hanamaki set you back down. Even Oikawa stares at you with an impressed look. 

“I think I’ll have to sit the rest of this out, actually,” you murmur as you rub the back of your neck and lean on your stronger leg instead. 

“I told you you shouldn’t have done it,” Iwaizumi sighs, offering to carry you to the side. You wrap your arms around his neck, totally unaware of the faint pink tinting his cheeks. 

“It’s fine, it was fun!” Iwaizumi sets you down on the ground, and you sit with your injured knee straight out. The others stare at you with a concerned look and you wave them off. “It’s fine, go have fun, I was team mom for a reason!” You reach for your bag and pull out an emergency ice pack and you promptly break the pouch inside of it. The ice pack immediately turns cold after a bit of shaking and you place it on your knee to watch as the boys somehow played a 4 vs. 3 player game. 

As the sun sets, soon enough you and all of the third years start cleaning up the gym. 

“Oi,” Matsukawa calls out to you, “it’s fine, we can clean up.” Matsukawa grabs you by your shoulders and urges you to go sit down. 

“Yeah, you’ve done enough for the team, always looking after your kids,” Hanamaki jokes as he goes to help take down the net. 

“Yeah but, I wasn’t able to get another manager for next year.” You stare at the ground as you sit back down on the ground. They all glance at you, stopping what they’re doing for a second. 

“Yahaba scared her away, it’s not your fault,” Iwaizumi assures you. Still, it doesn’t sit well with you but you nod your head anyway. 

“I guess,” you say half heartedly. 

Oikawa calls out for everyone, and soon enough all eyes turn to their captain. 

Hanamaki reaches out his hand towards Oikawa, with his eyebrows furrowed, “Hey, don’t do it! Let’s end this on a good note!” You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it.

“Shut up!” Oikawa cries out, tears already at the corner of his eyes. “Thank you for the last three years!” He bites his bottom lip, trying to control his sobbing as the tears start streaming down his face. Your brows scrunch up as your lips and the sobs that you’ve tried to keep in from earlier in the day finally escape your mouth. 

“Damn it, I told you!” Hanamaki wipes away his tears. 

You slowly stand back up and with your fists clenched up by your side, you bow your head. “Thank you for letting me be your manager!” 

You watch as your tears hit the gym floor and you don’t bother to wipe away the tears, knowing more will replace them. Soon enough, you feel arms wrapped around you and it’s Oikawa hugging you. Other third years echo their thanks. And soon enough there’s a big group hug between all the third years with you in the middle. 

Tears were shed everywhere, on all of the third years' shirts (along with snot because that’s what happens when you cry). And though you all lost, you’re all glad it was with each other and no one else. 

It takes awhile for everyone to catch their breath and clean up the rest of the gym. But everyone settles down, going back to normal but knowing that once they hit their bed that night, the tears would come back. 

You’re one of the last ones left, like always, and you realize this would be the last time you’re the last one in the gym to make sure everything’s left how it’s supposed to be. It’s bittersweet, knowing your volleyball season has come to an end. Perhaps it’s more bitter than sweet, though.

You finish zipping up your bags when a pair of legs appears in front of you, calling out your name. You feel your face flush and you don’t look up until they speak up.

“Here, I’ll walk you home since your brother isn’t here.”

[chilling-seavey]

Ok I don’t know if you’ve seen Franny arrieta’s new youtube video but like Christian and Daniel are in it working out and like I NEED a blurb based on screen shots from that video because 😍 so like maybe a workout blurb or something cute idk exactly what to do but something based on that video would just make my whole life haha

Of course I saw it omgg 😳But yess okay… thinking of a CUTE blurb idea for this was hard because 🥴 but lol hehe I think this worked out alright…

Linked the vid clips here but here’s also a pic because 🥴

Saturday, September 23rd, 2028

Saturday mornings were gym days for Daniel. After spending a full week at work, his Saturday mornings gave him an hour or so to himself before the weekend was to focus on his little family. It was a good routine, setting an alarm for around 7 with enough time to get a bit more cuddles and lazy sleepy kisses in from his wife before he was pulling himself out of bed to get dressed by 7:30.

Clementine and Penelope would still be asleep that early on a weekend, but four-year-old Lucy would hear him make his way down the hallway and she’d be out of bed in an instant. This morning was no different, with Daniel in the kitchen prepping his pre-workout drink in blue shorts and a tank top and his usual hat, stirring a spoon around in the glass of bright blue tinted water, his eyes raising to the little girl standing around the corner.

“Morning, Princess.” Daniel smiled over at her.

Lucy, still sleepy, trudged over to him with her blonde hair a mess on her head and her fist rubbing her eye tiredly and then reached up for him.

“There’s my girl.” he chuckled, bending down to scoop her up onto his hip and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I want juice too.” Lucy pointed to his drink.

“Yeah? How does apple juice sound?”

“I want that.” Lucy tried to grab the glass but he quickly pulled her hand away.

“That’s for grownups.” Daniel said and sat her on the counter before picking up his drink and tossed the spoon in the sink. He took a sip as he opened the fridge and took out the bottle of apple juice with his free hand to pour his youngest a drink too.

Lucy thanked him softly as she took the sippy cup from him and she reached out to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer to lean her cheek against his chest. They drank in silence, the half-asleep toddler still waking up but still clinging onto her father like usual, her small fingers holding tightly to his shirt to keep him close. When they both finished their drinks, Daniel rinsed his glass and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Okay, my love, how about I put on Peppa for you until Mommy wakes up?” Daniel offered, petting her hair back from her face.

“With you?” Lucy pouted.

“I gotta go to the gym, remember?”

“Can I come?”

“You want to come to the gym with me?” Daniel raised an eyebrow at her, setting his hands on either side of her on the counter.

Lucy nodded excitedly.

“It’s not going to be very fun.”

“Yes, it will.” Lucy protested, holding up her arms to him again. “Please, Daddy.”

Daniel sighed lightly but leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek, as he scooped her up again, “Fine. I’ll take you with me.”

He quickly got her dressed and brushed her hair into pigtails and grabbed a pre-stocked container of fruit from the fridge as a little early breakfast for Lucy. He slipped back into the bedroom to whisper to Florence that he was taking their youngest with him, assuring her sleepy concerned expression that he was going to be fine with her there, and kissed her goodbye.

Lucy was so excited to go wherever Daniel went and being able to tag along on his weekly visit to the gym was exceptional to her. She held his hand as they took the elevator down to the recreation floor of the condominium, her breakfast and his towel and water bottle and phone and keys balanced in his other hand. The sixth floor was set up with a full gym, a pool, and outdoor lounge spaces for the residents. The gym was a space that the girls never really saw so with a scan of Daniel’s card, the door clicked open and Lucy’s eyes were wide with youthful excitement as they headed inside.

It wasn’t too busy for 8am on a Saturday but the usual same people were there as well as a few new stragglers. Daniel proudly introduced his youngest to a few of the other guys that were around who he had gotten to know during his weekly routines. He set himself up at the bench press, sliding over a cube for Lucy to sit on while he worked out, passing her his phone to play with and the open container of cut up fruit to her.

“I wanna do the gym with you too.” Lucy protested, pushing his phone back towards him.

“The gym’s for grownups, Princess.” Daniel said as he got the equipment set up.

He glanced over at her when he got no reply to see her little pout staring back at him. He sighed, looking around the area before going over to the weights and grabbing the lightest one. Lucy grinned at him when he held it out to her and she jumped off her seat to take it.

“Too heavy?” Daniel asked.

“Good.” Lucy shook her head, her little nose scrunching up as she raised it to her chest with both hands.

Daniel couldn’t hold back his adoring smile to his daughter as he tugged off his shirt and grabbed his own weights. Lucy stared wide eyed at him as he brought over two weights that were like the size of her head, watching how he lifted them like they were nearly nothing. She copied him right away, curling her own tiny weight up to her chest and back down in time with him, her concentrated furrowed eyebrows mirroring his exactly. Lucy was his little copycat and that was obvious.

She was tired after the weights so she sat and watched him as he worked on the rest of his routine; bench presses and pull ups and the use of various other metal equipment that the four year old had no clue the purpose of. Lucy didn’t mind though; she loved just being near him and sitting and watching and munching her fruit was a perfect pastime for her. She followed him around like a little puppy when he would move onto another piece of equipment, asking him plenty of questions while he tried to work.

Daniel loved her, he really did, but good God she didn’t know when to stop talking.

“Luce, princess, baby-” Daniel sighed tiredly, sitting up from the bench to look to her, “Can you just sit quietly please, honey? I gotta stay focussed.”

Lucy frowned but nodded, popping another slice of watermelon in her mouth. He got up long enough to press a kiss to her head and grab a drink of water before he was shifting back down on the bench and getting his grip on the bar again. The silence was nice as he could keep track of his reps without getting distracted.

“Daddy!” Lucy suddenly exclaimed, nearly making him drop the heavy bar in surprise.

“What is it, Princess?” Daniel groaned as he carefully set the bar back onto his stand.

“Look at the colourful bouncy balls over there! I want one!”

He barely had a second to even sit up before she took off at top speed across the gym towards the row of blue exercise balls by the far wall.

“Lucy, don’t-”

He heard it before he saw it, the chilling sound of the impact of head on metal that nearly echoed through the entire gym followed by the thud of his daughter hitting the ground hard.

“Shit!” Daniel scrambled up just as the four-year-old’s blood curdling scream filled the large space and everyone’s heads turned their way.

Daniel never moved faster, the pre-workout drink in his veins turning into pure adrenaline as he rushed to the aide of his youngest daughter who was screaming on the ground. He dropped beside her and picked her right up into his arms, holding her tightly.

“Oh my gosh, Lucy.” he breathed shakily as she sobbed into his shoulder. “Did you hit your head, baby? What happened?”

She could only scream in response, tears pouring down her cheeks and he pulled back to look at her and make sure she was okay. He held her face in his hands, a little trickle of blood dripping down her forehead. Definitely not enough for stitches but enough that sent Daniel’s heart racing.

“Okay, honey. Okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.” he stumbled over his own reassurances, barely heard over her shrieking, trying desperately to get her to calm down. “Look at me, Lucy. Look at Daddy, baby. Come on. You’re okay.”

A few other people had come over to them by that point, one bringing a towel and one with the first aid kit and one with a cup of water. Daniel couldn’t even get himself to thank them right away as he wiped up the blood from Lucy’s forehead with the white towel through her screams of agony. She sobbed loudly, clinging onto him through her pain and embarrassment as everyone was looking at them.

Daniel shushed her gently through little kisses to her hair, rubbing a hand over her back as the staff member on duty brought over an ice pack to him. Daniel shifted onto his bum on the ground from his knees and tucked Lucy on his lap with his arms around her and the ice pack pressed gently to her forehead.

“What happened?”

“She ran into one of the bars, I think.”

Daniel shut his eyes tightly and pressed his lips to the top of Lucy’s head, feeling like the absolute worst father in the world as she screamed in his arms, little fingers clinging onto his bare shoulders. He kept the ice pack against her head, rubbing his other hand over her back lovingly as he shushed her softly.

“Daddy’s got you, baby. You’re okay.”

Lucy started to calm down after a few moments, her screams turning into soft sobs and she stumbled over each breath, curling tiredly against his chest. When it was once again nearly quiet, Daniel shakily thanked the people who came to their help. One of the men had brought over their things for them and Daniel thanked him with a flat smile as he got up from the ground, Lucy tucked tightly in his arms with her arms snug around her neck and her cheek leaning against his shoulder, the bruise on her forehead only growing with time.

“I want Mommy.” Lucy sniffled.

“I know, my love. We’re going home to see Mommy now.” Daniel said shakily, tossing his shirt and his towel over his other shoulder and gathered their things in one hand before heading for the elevators. Daniel took a shaking breath as he pressed the call button, muttering softly, “Mommy’s going to kill me.”

[deanlesbian]

here’s a little fic i wrote for @mindblindbard which is the best interactive fiction wip i’ve ever read!! i love the characters so much. this is set when my button (ellery) is 19, so unfortuantely i can’t include any sweet, sweet kenna content, but i had a lot of fun diving into ellery’s trauma lol. (this is like 1500 words oops)

Ellery wakes early on the day of the anniversary. She snaps out of sleep quickly, abruptly, her heart pounding out of her chest, her breath caught fast in her lungs. The dream is gone already, but she can imagine. Her limbs locked, her chest tight, the loud sobs of her mother echoing through the high-ceilinged kitchen.

She pushes herself upright, waiting to see if Nick noticed. If he could feel her spike of emotion from his bedroom.

But there’s no intrusion, no soft whisper in her mind. He’s asleep. Good.

When Nick wakes before her on this day in October, he always makes a big deal out of it. Huge breakfast waiting for her in the kitchen, coffee from her favorite place, telepathic fingers prodding at her psyche. He thinks she doesn’t notice. That worries her. How often is she actually picking up on it? How many times does he sift through her thoughts, self-justified because he’s worried about her, that she doesn’t notice?

Ellery climbs out of bed, her bamboo sheets left in a tangle. Her bare feet protest against the cold hardwood, but she relishes the little pricks of pain. She crosses to the window and pulls back the curtain. There are tiny patches of frost coating the neighbor’s grass.

Fall has been late to Chicago, this year. Nick’s birthday two weeks ago was warm and sunny—they’d actually acquired a boat and puttered around Lake Michigan, the Wiseman siblings and Gray and Sally. Nick had done his best to mask his disappointment at not being able to have his parents join for his birthday. He’d driven up and spent the night in Milwaukee, leaving Sally and Ellery free to get wine drunk and have a dance party in the brownstone’s kitchen.

Ellery is glad that it’s cold this morning. She prefers running in the cold. She pulls on leggings and a sports bra and runs through a quick sun salutation to get her muscles flowing, to practice control, tension and release, shake out all the paralytic fear of nightmare and memory. Three years ago today, Ellery Wiseman lost her parents.

She pulls on her running shoes and a light long-sleeve and ties her recently cut blonde hair back into a tiny ponytail. She chugs half a bottle of water, puts in her earbuds, starts her metal playlist, straps her phone to her arm, and then she’s out the door.

The air is sharp and bites at her exposed skin as she thuds down the front steps and onto the street. Ellery always feels pulled back into herself when she runs. Her muscles moving fast, responsive, following her every command. Her thoughts clean and clear, music channeling her thoughts, endorphins pushing aside everything but a sense of focus. Any Ments she passes quickly falling behind, away.

Ellery heads east, to the lake. She dodges walkers on the sidewalk and Ments who swivel their heads to watch her speed by, crosses streets abruptly. The music screams in her ears and her breath huffs in and out of her and sweat pricks at her collarbones and her feet slam into the pavement and she feels good.

Nick and Sally tease Ellery for her obsession with running. Nick runs reluctantly, to stay in shape, but as a last resort, preferring gym time and basketball with Gray. Sally despises running. The Aeon prep runs they go on together are a litany of complaints.

But running is everything for Ellery. It’s the only time she feels her anger draining out of her, left behind in ribbons along the lakefront path, blown away by the icy winds off Lake Michigan, beaded up and dripping off her forehead.

She pushes herself harder than usual, faster, taking her regular route south along the lake too fast, using up her stamina too quickly. Her breath drives in and out of her too fast, painful.

No, she thinks as her muscles burn and her body begs for relief. I can’t stop yet, I’m not ready—

The memory pushes itself, jagged and unwelcome, into her mind. Hope’s arms on her arm, fingernails digging in, shouting—

Ellery’s ankle turns, and she falls.

It’s a terrific fall. Her palms skid along the pavement, her knee drags with her momentum, tearing a hole in her leggings.

I need to get up, she thinks dazedly, but she can’t. She can’t because her mom is in her head and her thoughts are all swirled together with someone else’s, and her body is no longer her own.

Her breath is going like she’s still running, but there’s no one on this stretch of path right now and she’s out of Nick’s resting brainrange so she lets it happen. She picks herself up off the sidewalk, wincing at the sting in her scraped palms. She crosses the path and treads down to the soft sand of the 31st street beach. The wind slams against her, unceasing and angry. She unstraps her phone from her arm and puts on her favorite The National song on repeat. She wraps her arms around herself and finally, finally lets herself cry.

It’s so much easier to be angry. To decline phone calls and delete voicemails, to skip lunches with her dad and call him “John” to his face, to leave the room when Nick tries to say something like “it’s been three years, do you think….” Easier to beat her knuckles bloody on a punching bag and refuse to talk to Sally about it. Easier to think, if they didn’t want me then, they don’t get me now.

But today, Ellery just kind of wants her mom.

Yesterday at the mall with Sally they were sniffing perfumes and Ellery had burst into tears when Sally spritzed herself with Chanel no. 5. She hadn’t even remembered that Hope had worn Chanel no. 5 until the scent wafted over and she was taken back. Nights when Hope had actually been able to handle being around Ellery, when her mind was clear. The best nights were frequently right after Hope got back from a trip, refreshed after a week or so without Ellery’s thoughts pricking in the back of her subconscious.

Hope would shoo the boys out for dinner or a basketball game or something and she and Ellery would cook pasta in the cavernous marble kitchen of Ellery’s childhood home and then they would eat and watch a romantic comedy and Hope would paint Ellery’s nails (doing a much better job than Sally ever could) and they’d talk about everything and it would be good.

And then a few days later Ellery would notice her mom was back to flinching whenever she walked into a room and the distance would expand again.

Ellery cries, loud and gulping, tears streaking down her cheeks. She cries for her broken family, and for Nick who gave up everything for her, and for Sally who she knows misses Hope and John but would never say so, and for her parents who she’s hurting more and more everyday she goes without talking to them, even if they deserve it. Even though they abandoned her when she needed them most.

Most days, this grief lives deep inside her, smothered with righteous anger and cold indifference. So deep that Nick can’t even sense it amongst everything else broadcasting from her head.

Loud, she calls herself, and thank god for that.

After a little while Ellery manages to slow her breathing. The cold air in and out, calm, measured. She feels a little bit cleaner inside. She feels okay enough that when she goes back home Nick will sense a low level of melancholy, but that’s to be expected, on this day, so he won’t feel the need to pry. Now she can think about other things.

Her phone rings. She knows it’s Nick so she doesn’t bother checking her phone before tapping her headphones to accept.

"Hey Button,” he says. “Where are you? I’m making breakfast.”

This is a ridiculous question because a) if Nick tried he could use his telemetry to see her and b) he could check her location on his phone.

“I’m at 31st,” she says. “Went on a run.”

“Well, get your butt back here,” he says. “I’m doing an omelet bar and Gray and Salome are going to be here in fifteen.”

The tension in Ellery’s chest loosens a little more. This is why Nick doesn’t know about the grief that hides so far down. Because most of the time, she’s content with the family she has. Her overbearing, well-intentioned brother. Her best friend who takes her as she is and loves her for it anyway. An obnoxiously nice Brit who is fun to treat with her best annoying little sister routine.

Most days, that’s more than enough.

“I’ll head back right now,” Ellery says.

“Swing by Bluebird on your way and get coffee for everyone,” he says. “I checked, none of the Ments on staff are working today, so you’re good.”

“Sure,” she says. “Love you, Tick.”

“See you soon, Button.”

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Just Drunk 3/3

Description: It’s finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.

Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

It’s finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” “Cause I’m getting that feeling right now.” CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Here’s to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol ❤️❤️❤️

That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you weren’t exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you weren’t.

So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then you’ll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tonight’s the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wine—read, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we aren’t about that life here— It’s finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. And—oh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You can’t do this. You just can’t!

You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You can’t do this. You really can’t. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.

Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.

But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you don’t take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shit—wait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!

And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, and—you swear that—you walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!

Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You aren’t special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?—No, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..

Alright, it’s decided. You aren’t going on this date. You don’t deserve to go on this date. You’ll just pick up your phone and call—no! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesn’t matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. And—hey! Don’t judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. It’s a part of who we are now.

You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.

It obviously doesn’t, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so that’s a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! You’re willing to bet he’ll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he won’t even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.

You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit you’ve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. “H-hello?”

“Breathe. What are you wearing?”

Lindsey, it’s Lindsey. You glance down, “dark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.” You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. “Oh shit, do you think I’m too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, aren’t I? I should have worn a dress! He’s from the damn 30’s! Oh fu—“

“Woman!” Lindsey cuts you off, “just breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?”

You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey can’t see the action you quickly mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be okay, I look fine, I’m fine. I’m breathing now. Promise.”

“Very convincing,” Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.

You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! He’s here!

“Fuck! Linds!” You hiss. “He’s here! What do I do?!”

“Jesus,” she sighs, exasperated, “you get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.” Yet the words don’t sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.

“You do,” she reaffirms. “Now repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.”

“Yes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!” You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.

“Wait!!” Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.

“Yes?” You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.

“Call me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!” She warns. “I want all the dirty details, so don’t forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!” She singsongs the last part.

“Will do! Bye!” You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. You’ll make it up to her later.

You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he can’t catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldn’t go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is ‘bad form’, as Sam had put it, and ‘makes you look too eager,’ as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you don’t want to show up too early is because she probably won’t be ready, and it’s never good to rush a woman’s pre-date prepping process. So after Nat’s words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.

But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.

With a sincere and rushed ‘Thank you’, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that it’s now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.

His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he can’t make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though he’s sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tony’s file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so it’s not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it does—

The door abruptly opening cuts off Steve’s train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and that’s saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.

How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he can’t even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, he’s doomed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. “Uh, hi,” you wave awkwardly—And woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? You’d facepalm right now, if it weren’t for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.

Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, “Hi.”

Okay, so at least you aren’t the only awkward one. That’s good, you guess. “Shall we?” You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.

He nods quickly, “yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.

A silence looms over you both, you aren’t exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. “Is that,” you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, “is that a Mclaren P1?” You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

He gives you a bashful look, “it is. I’m sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you weren’t, the helmet would just mess up your hair,” he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, “So Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.”

You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. “Not ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, that’s the first thing I’d buy,” you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.

There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isn’t a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. You’d be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, you’d have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after you’re dead and gone. That’s how expensive they are.

A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!

“Ah, shall we?” You ask, yet again, as clearly that’s the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasn’t a first date, and that wasn’t Tony Stark's car, you’d have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.

Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,—yes, ‘lifts up’. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!— like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you don’t want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.

Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, “you like cars, I take it?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. “My dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.”

Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.”

You smile at him, happy that you’ve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. “I like bikes as well, though I’m nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.”

He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, “Well, I’ll have to take you out on my bike one day,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “If um, if you’d be interested in that?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’d really like that.”

You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, “okay. I can make that happen.”

Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadn’t clued into this until after you’d answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didn’t want to see him again. Or that you weren’t enjoying yourself so far. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadn’t scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasn’t him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So he’d once again decided to go with Nat’s advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.

But when the words had left his mouth, he’d almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume she’d even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because she’d replied instantly, and excitedly, that she’d really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly don’t know what to make of the smile, it’s not exactly one you’d have expected, and you can’t place why it makes you feel so awkward.

It’s odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. It’s sweet and soft, and calming. “Good evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?”

“We have a reservation, under Rogers,” Steve answers and you aren’t sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isn’t normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you aren’t going crazy—at least not this time, you aren’t.

She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. “Here you are,” she says as she places the menus down on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment you’ve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.

Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but it’s pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, “that was weird, wasn’t it?”

He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. “Yeah, that was odd.”

“Does that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?”

He shakes his head, “sometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.”

You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, “okay, so I wasn’t the only one that thought that was weird.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

“No,” Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. “You weren’t.”

He has never had someone react to his presence like that, he’s had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, he’s even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isn’t sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasn’t. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.

A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. “Good evening, my name is,” there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, “Will,” is added. “And I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?”

Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that he’s heard it many, many times—You have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostess’ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.

Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasn’t looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to ‘Will’ and he narrows them. The aforementioned ‘waiter’ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. ‘What are you doing here?’ He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.

‘Taking your drink orders,’ Sam mouths back with a ‘duh’ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.

“I’ll just take an iced tea,” Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, “and I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap.”

“Excellent choices,” Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friend—hold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Nat—what his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal you’d like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if he’s decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is looking—read, glaring—at a table with a few people sitting at it. “Do you know them?” You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.

“Hmm?” He questions, “who?”

You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. “The people at that table over there,” you tip your head in it’s direction.

He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. “Ah, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I can’t really remember exactly where.” He shrugs, “probably from work.”

You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. “So, any ideas on what you’d like to eat?”

“I was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking about getting as well,” you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly that’s another thing you both have in common. Score!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called ‘friends’ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.

It’s taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tony’s invasion of privacy folder.

And if barely paying any attention to his date, isn’t bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He can’t imagine how she’d react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.

He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesn’t really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

It’s not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and you’d have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.

And maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasn’t really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.

So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.

You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadn’t yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around him—But we aren’t focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.

The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you don’t miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, that’s fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?—Shit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.

And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safe—you shake your head gently. Don’t be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after all—

“Oreos?” He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one you’d picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.

And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. “I like Oreos,” you shrug, trying to act casual. “So tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?”

He chuckles, “I guess Oreos are pretty good, I’m also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

“Really?” You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again. “When I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reese’s were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30’s. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,” he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. “It still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.”

“I can’t even imagine,” you say honestly, “what else has stayed the same?” And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as it’s raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is she—is she taking freaking pictures of you!?

Your eyes focus in on the phone in question and—wait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the ‘old ladies’, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the ‘old mans’ head, and come to an unwavering realization.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You flick your eyes back to Steve’s. “Oh, yeah. Yep. I’m just dandy,” your eyes again lock on the stupid ‘old woman’. “I just have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isn’t watching and then forcefully yank the ‘old’ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.

Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the woman’s grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you weren’t so angry right now, you’d have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.

“I really shouldn’t be in here,” Tyler points out unhelpfully.

“Oh please,” you scoff, “I’m more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.”

He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.

“Look, we can explain,” she puts her hands up in submission.

“I sure fucking hope so,” you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. “Well, let’s hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?”

“It was his idea,” Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, “it was her idea.”

They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. “Liar!” They say in unison. Another gasp from both, “I am not!” and again, in unison.

You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didn’t, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.

“Okay, whoever’s idea it was aside,” you wave a dismissive hand around. “You both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.” You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, “now, the real question is what the hell guys?” You shift your eyes between the two, “you both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, “but it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.”

Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, “it was ‘our’ idea, traitor!” She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.

You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, “okay, enough!” They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. “I don’t have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, I’m sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and I’ve now been standing in the women’s bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steve’s going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Do you think he’d even understand that reference?” Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, “do you think anyones shown him those movies yet?”

Lindsey gives him an odd look, “of course he’s seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.”

Tyler nods slowly, “unless his friends all suck, I guess.”

“Very valid point, Ty—“ Linds starts but you cut in.

“Not important at the moment, guys,” you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. “Now, I’d ask you both to leave, but I know you won’t listen to me. So instead, I’ll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?”

“Got it,” they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, “but Harry Potter is always important.”

You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isn’t even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldn’t change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. It’s a 50/50 thing, for sure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. ‘What the hell are you guys doing here?’

His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see it’s from Tony. ‘We are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.’

Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isn’t in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. “Oh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then what’s with the get ups,” he flicks the obviously fake wig on Bucky’s head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, “and why the hell is Sam our waiter?”

“Look, Steve,” Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. “I had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,” she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former to—well, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, “I only chose to join them to make sure they didn’t fuck your date up too badly.” Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, “and I’m just here for the food.”

“Traitors,” Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.

Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, “you can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steve’s bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, that’s a bullet I won’t take for you.”

Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “We just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isn’t that right, Manchurian Candidate,” he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he crosses his arms. “Your choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you. I’m supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,” he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. “And tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isn’t the next person to approach my damn table, I’ll be even more pissed off,” then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasn’t come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didn’t see him scolding the table of assholes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. “Sorry that took so long,” you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! “Ah, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.” Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!

“Oh?” Steve asks hesitantly, “is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, yeah,” you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. “She just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her I’d call her back later.”

He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. “Does it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?”

You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, “no, it’s not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?”

He nods, “yeah, something like that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” you comment, trying to be positive. “And it just means we get more time to talk.”

He smiles at you, “well, in that case, let’s hope the food never comes.”

And swooooon. You couldn’t not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that it’s probably the biggest, goofiest thing he’s ever seen, but you can’t help it. “Fingers crossed,” you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, “Cause I’m getting that feeling right about now.”

Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. “All the time, actually.”

You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, that’s neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that it’s now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his ‘friends’ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.

And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding they’ll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

“Sorry for the delay,” a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. “Ah, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, I’ll be taking over for him.” He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. “These drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldn’t be too much longer for your food to be ready.”

Y/N thanks the new—actual—waiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.

The new waiter—Kyle—scurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. “Did you have a better time at work, this week?” He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadn’t been very fun for her. He’d been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.

And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve can’t get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, because—does this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldn’t they give him the same one he’d ordered before?

He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. It’s no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steve’s learned since waking up from the ice in this new—and expensive—era, it’s that you should never ever pass up free things. So he’ll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalism—Okay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.

You and Steve don’t waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of fo—five now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isn’t worrying you. A lot.

After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didn’t mean to be that forceful with it.

Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot and—wait, is he drunk?

“This food was amazing!” He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Something isn’t right. He don’t feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he can’t get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian mead—his eyes snap over to the table of his ‘friends’ and it instantly hits him—The beer didn’t taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.

Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his ‘friends’ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckers—

“Who’s going to pay?”

Steve’s eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/N’s. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. “My horrible friends,” he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/N’s face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. “You’re adorable when you frown,” he chuckles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You were still trying to figure out what he meant by ‘his horrible friends with pay for this’, but then he has to go and say you’re adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. Geesh—Focus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over and—holy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.

And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steve’s did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. “Steve?” You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. He’d been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding slightly out of it.

“Question?—err, actually maybe two questions,” you hastily amend and he chuckles.

“Okay,” he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, “W-what are they?”

“Is that your team over there?” You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.

He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles “yeah, it is.” But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this time—read, damn near yelling again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be here—“

You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out what’s so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. “Y/N?” He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.

And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, “see the old couple behind you, a table away?”

Steve’s lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, “yeah,” he says slowly.

“Those two ‘old people’,” you make quote signs with your fingers, “are my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,” and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steve’s frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.

“You’re joking?” He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, “not even a little bit.”

He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. “That is too funny.”

You nod, agreeing with him, “that it is. Looks like both our friends are,” you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, “nosey assholes.” Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steve’s. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, “and here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didn’t fake being our waiter,” you giggle.

Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, “were you really surprised they’d go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.”

“Oh shit,” you chuckle a little more, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Yeah,” Steve shakes his head, “they are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. It’s rather frustrating,” he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.

“Wait,” Steve abruptly says, “you said you had two questions?”

You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though you’re going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, “so I’m guessing they spiked your drink, which means you can’t drive?”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? I’ll pay for it.”

“No,” a sly grin works its way onto your lips. “I have a better idea.” You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. “Come with me,” you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you won’t be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell she’ll be able to stop him, and he’ll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, can’t be passed up, even in Steve’s mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.

He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isn’t gonna lie, he’s excited to see what her master plan is.

“Avengers,” she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.

His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, “Y/N,” he nods then looks at Steve. “Steve.” Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. “I see you’ve figured us out,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That I have,” she giggles, “wasn’t too hard, once you spiked Steve’s drink.”

“That was Sam’s doing,” Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.

“It might have been my doing, but it was Tony’s idea,” Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You aren’t interested in their bickering about who did what, and who’s behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad,” you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“We aren’t,” he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but it’s the thought that counts.

You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. “But,” you abruptly say, “there are conditions to us not being upset.”

And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, “and those are?”

“Our bill still needs to be paid,” you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, “okay, and?”

Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. “Since Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morning—“. Tony cuts in, “what? No, no, that doesn’t seem—“. “Tony,” Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,” you say, “therefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, I’ve driven supercars before, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Tony doesn’t seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. “I think it’s only fair,” Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. “I agree with Nat,” Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, “fine, you can take the car for the night.”

And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, “but,” he points a finger at you then at Steve, “if there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.”

Steve gives you a look, one that screams ‘now just wait one second, let’s talk about this a little first’ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, “Deal.” And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, “I like that one,” to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.

As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!—A deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. “Sorry,” you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, “I’m a little excited.”

“I can see that,” he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all it’s shiny black glory, and you are sure you’re dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or you’re drooling.

The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, “it’s my turn to be the gentleman.”

Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.

And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.

You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the ‘gentleman’ this time. Steve deserves as much.

He chuckles again as he clues into what you’re doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.

Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.

“I had—“. “Thank you—“. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Even with our friends crashing the date?” He asks, one brow raised.

You giggle, “yes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.”

“That it did,” Steve nods. “And I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.”

You wave it off, “they aren’t so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.”

He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You grin brightly, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “No, I wouldn’t be interested in doing this again.” Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks you’ve ever seen in your life. “Just wait,” you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, “let me finish. But yes, I’d love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.”

His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, “yes, no friends on the next one for sure.”

“Okay, well I should get home,” you say reluctantly, “but I’ll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” he nods. “And yes, just the two of us.”

“Perfect,” you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.

Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, you’d melt into the sidewalk. You’d become a human puddle.

But luckily for you, he doesn’t release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. “Goodnight, Steve,” you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.

“Goodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.”

You smile, “see ya then.” You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you don’t care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.

You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.

The whole drive home you can’t wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if you’re being honest.

This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldn’t change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.

And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, and—if you have any say in the matter—many, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that you’re going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because you’ll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, that’s what.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118 @just-ladyme @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @bratstopmom @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @scentedsongrebel @captainchrisstan @kelbabyblue @fckdeusername @murdermornings @dreamlesswonder86

[bug13underscore]

transmasc Luke anon - I was interested in the scene in which he goes to get the piercings and Reggie's there with him and holds his hand and Luke is like "I can totally do this on my own" while wincing and Reggie's all smiles like "I know you can, baby." anyway, Luke is 100% short-but-will-fight-you transmasc vibes and I love it

You’re correct about his vibes, we love a fighty-boy lol, and this was an amazing idea thank you so much for this Anon!! 

Small disclaimer, I’ve never had my nipples pierced or top surgery so this is all info I got from a few google searches soooo be warned 

“Sometimes it just feels like we’re the grey sisters.” Julie huffed, slamming her lunch tray down as she slid into the bench beside her girlfriends. 

“What the fuck is a grey sister?” Carrie raised an eyebrow, poking at her school lunch. 

“A group of three sisters in Greek mythology. They share one eyeball and one tooth between the three of them.” Julie rushed out, quickly digging into her food.

“Ew, why would you liken us to them?” Flynn whined, resting her head onto Carrie’s shoulder. 

“Cause it feels like we all get to share brain cells. Obviously there’s six of us, and usually us girls have them.” 

“Only usually?” Carrie laughed, elbowing Julie lightly. Before Julie could explain further, the other three of their group come slamming full-force into their lunch table, panting and wheezing. 

“Alex, inhaler.” Julie clicked her tongue, motioning for one of his boyfriends to get into his fanny pack. The two boys were quick to help him get it out, all slowly gaining their breath back. Julie used this moment to shoot her girlfriends a pointed look. 

“Reggie, explain.” Flynn leveled her gaze to the boy, knowing through practice that out of the three he’s more likely to give up the story. 

“We may have been making out in the janitors closet, and they may have walked in on us.”  

“Luke, excuse.” Carrie sighs, tiredly placing her hand against her forehead, the brunette letting his gaze drift towards his two boyfriends. 

“They’re just so cute! Look at their little faces, they just need to be kissed all the time.” The boy reasoned, his arms thrown out dramatically, as if showcasing valuable antiques to a buyer. 

“I don’t know who’s face you’re calling little, munchkin.” Alex snarked, reaching over to pinch Luke’s face. “We’re older than you, in case you need the reminder.” 

“Ow! Hey!” Luke pulled away from the blondes fingers, rubbing at the offended cheek. 

“Alex,” Reggie pouted, drawing Luke into his arms. Luke smirked triumphantly. “Leave our baby boy alone.” The smirk quickly left his lips, replaced with another pout as the group began to laugh around him. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Molina. You’re the youngest here.” Luke snarked, reaching over to poke her nose. 

“Yeah, but I’m fine with being the baby, it just means you’re all suckered into my cuteness.” Julie laughed, swatting at his hand before poking his nose in retaliation. His hazel eyes lit up slightly, his gaze shifting to his boyfriends who were now in a conversation with Carrie and Flynn. 

“Suckered into cuteness you say?” 

Fuck, here we go, Julie thought to herself, what’s he gonna get himself into this time? 

~

Luke, much to Alex’s displeasure, was the only one of the boys who had a car. Luke and Alex both had their licenses, endlessly teasing Reggie about being the oldest without his, but they both knew why Reggie avoided getting one. 

This though, was Luke’s favorite part of the school days. Meeting his boyfriends at his car, getting to spend time with the two where they’re more alone than they are when they’re stuck in the school building. 

“I can’t hang out too long today, Moms still pissed that I skipped physics the other day.” Alex hummed, sliding into the backseat and allowing Reggie to take shotgun. 

“Lame.” Reggie hummed, pulling out Luke’s CD collection to shuffle through and decide on what disc today. “What’re we feeling today?” 

“Something soft?” Alex offered, grabbing his water bottle from his backpack as he took a sip. Luke hummed in agreement, noticing Alex’s slight nerves. Reggie nodded before picking out After Laughter for Alex. 

“It's cool if me and Reggie hang out after we drop you off then? Totally fine if not.” Luke shot him a wink through the rear view mirror as he pulled out of their schools parking lot. 

“Of course it’s fine,” Alex’s voice is soft as he reaches up to give Luke’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, doing the same to Reggie as well. “Just don’t do anything stupid, yeah?” 

“Of course not! We’re not idiots.” Reggie snorted, earning an eye roll from the blonde in the backseat. It’s just a few more minutes before they pull into Alex’s driveway, him only living a few minutes away from their school. Both of his boyfriends make sure to give him a kiss goodbye as he walks up the path to his house. 

As soon as Alex made it through, the door shutting behind him, Luke spun to Reggie with a wild look in his eyes. 

“I have the best idea.” 

~

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Reggie laced his fingers through Luke’s comfortingly. The brunette gives a sharp nod, sliding his phone into Reggie’s jacket pocket. 

“Totally. Doc gave me the green light.” Luke nodded, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. “Besides, Alex is totally attracted to piercings so this is totally worth it.” 

“I know this, baby, but are you sure it’s something you want?” Their piercer looked between the two of them silently as they sanitized the needle and tools they’d be using. 

“Trust me, hun, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this piercing over the years.” Luke sent a wink to his boyfriend, squeezing his hand as he did so. 

The prepping for the piercing takes longer than the actual piercing, with how Blake, their piercer, insisted on talking with them to ease their nerves for a little while before they got into the piercing part. 

Reggie’s piercing was pretty quick, only getting his left nostril pierced. Luke’s fingers were threaded through his for comfort, although it wasn’t really needed. A little pinch and he was done. 

Luke’s in comparison took a little longer, given he was getting both nipples pierced and Blake had to adjust clamps on him to make the process a little faster and easier. 

As Luke sucked in a few shallow breaths he felt a hard squeeze on his hand, causing him to shift his gaze to his boyfriend. 

“I can totally do this on my own.” Luke forces out in a haughty tone, sucking in a breath as the first needle makes its way through the clamp. His grip on Reggie’s hand tightened, causing the leather clad boy to laugh. 

“I know you can, baby boy.” Reggie teased, giving his hand a gentle and loving squeeze back. “You’re the strongest person I know.” 

Luke shot him a dopey grin, wincing loudly as the second needle pierced his skin. Blake finished up, making sure to wipe at Luke’s piercing and handing them both instructions on how to properly clean their piercing, with notes of their gauge sizes and Blake’s email in case they had any further questions. 

They thanked Blake, following them back to the front of the shop. The couple paid, tipping Blake in the process with plenty of smiles and waves as they exited the shop.

The short walk to Luke’s car was silent, their hands intertwined once again. The brunette stopped Reggie before he could pull away and circle around to the passenger side. 

“Hey, thanks for that back there, it means a lot that you’d do this and say that for me.” 

“Of course, baby, it’s no problem.” The boy grinned at him, the new silver hoop in his nose catching the light. 

“No, no. Really, I don’t think anyone’s said that to me before.” Luke wanted to fold in on himself, not used to the nervous feeling that filled him. 

Reggie pulled the smaller boy into his arms, carefully avoiding getting too close to his chest, letting out a small laugh.

“I completely meant it, you’re definitely the strongest person I know. Well, maybe the mentally strongest I know? Alex does have to lug his drum kit around a lot.” 

“Shut up and get in before I leave you here.” Luke pushed away from him gently, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. Reggie grins and gives him a mock salute before running around the car and climbing in. They begin their trek back to Luke’s house, the boy starling when they pull into the driveway. “Fuck.” 

“Fuck?” 

“I’m going to have to tell my parents about this so they don’t accidentally fuck up the piercings.”

“Fuck.” 

“We’re fucked.” 

“What do you mean we?” 

“Well I couldn’t have legally got this without you there, Mr. I’m-Eighteen-Now.” 

“Yeah, we’re fucked. Let’s hope they’re in a good mood.” 

“You go in first, they like you better.” 

It was obvious that Emily wasn’t pleased with this outcome, but she did ease up once Luke assured her that he had checked in with the doctor beforehand and once they promised—numerous times—that they had gone to a legitimate, well reviewed shop and that Blake had sanitized all of the equipment. 

Finally, after dinner and Emily’s many questions, Mitch being very quiet and mostly indifferent on the matter, the boys made their way to Luke’s room. 

“We’re skipping school in the morning because you’re gonna wake up whining in pain, I already know.” Reggie laughed as they changed into their pajamas. 

“I am so not going to do that!” 

“Luke, honey, baby boy, my love,” Reggie leveled a look to the boy, full of love and honesty. “You skipped an entire week of school when you broke your wrist plus an additional week when you finally managed to convince me to stay here with you. You already know Emily is calling us in tomorrow.” 

“Yeah okay.” Luke conceded after a few moments. “I’m going to whine because I can’t sleep on my stomach or be big spoon right now though, that’s the worst part of this all.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Reggie grinned at him. “Shirtless for both of us, less of a chance for my shirt to catch, right?” 

“You’re a genius.” Luke grinned up at him. “You know that tomorrow when we do our prank, Alex is gonna find out and be pissed, right?” 

“Oh yeah, no for sure. Well just suck up to him after, it’s fine, he can’t stay mad at us for too long. Our puppy dog faces paired with our piercings are gonna win him over forever now.”

“These piercings just keep getting better and better.”

[crqstalite]

From the prompt list? I'm sending in something simple with will, hopefully, just go in any direction you want. And that's "Always." For whichever pairing you wish :)

posting this before i chicken out, because i’ve been at this for like eight hours already lol. trying my hand at a little shakarian [petrakarian, in this case], and there’s a sprinkle of happiness if you squint ;)

edit: i’ve also never written garrus before honestly. definitely tried my best but i’m sure there are mistakes in there somewhere. regardless, happy to provide.

pairing: brione petrakis/garrus vakarian. word count: 2,611

-

She's putting it off. Leaving, as it was.

Honestly, she doesn't know why. Her bags are all packed, her dress blues are pressed and folded on the cot next to her. Her datapad has been prepped to send all of her reports straight to Alliance Command. Yet she's left her comb in her duffel, hair decidedly unbrushed around her shoulders, still sitting in her fatigues and they're only an hour out from the Citadel. She could be in the crew quarters, going over any possible assignments they could give her. She could be trying to get another couple of winks in. Anything other than being here, and desperately hanging on to what felt like the last thing she had in the galaxy.

It would've been so much easier not to be here right now, but nothing in the last year had been easy. It's harder to force herself out, hell she's been sleeping in here for the last week or so.

The lights flicker just above her, the battery still stuttering in a way that frustrated Garrus to no end. Not that they had much need for it these days, but she'd offered to take a look at it. He'd been content to let her sit nearby. Talking about trivial things during the first few days after the suicide mission with some of her senses glossed over by pain meds, maybe more than a little wine in their systems. Then it waned into painful silence as they grew closer to the station, wine bottle empty and all sentiments aired. All the things she knows she can't say, all the things she wants to.

She rolls another bandage around her hand, pulling taut. It'd been her good hand too, a lucky shot taken by a Collector that had left her unable to snipe properly during the last leg of the base assault. Still bruised and trying it's hardest to bleed through. Mordin hadn't been there to do it properly, so it had been her, hearing gunshots against the barrier they'd set up, blood gushing from her hand with Garrus asking her if she was alright. Medi-gel spilling from her shaking hands, only being able to offer suppressing fire with her Carnifex before Shepard told them to retreat. Her wrist whined from the motion, and she barely catches a blue eye darting between her and the UI when she groans.

"Still bothering you?" His voice is softer than usual when she catches him in the act, hands stilling over the keyboard, "Chakwas should really take a look at that."

"She can once we're back in Alliance space," Brione haphazardly cuts off the end of it, tucking it under one of the other wraps. She tests a smile with the nearly healed scar on her lip, "Besides, you're the one who was apparently up and fighting with Shepard not even two days after you nearly died, Garrus."

Another beat of silence before he starts again, mandibles flaring as he sighs. Exasperated with her, maybe. He'd been bothering her about it for days now, usually asking how it was and if she needed anything, "We Turians are a bit hardier than our human counterparts," He gestures to the scarred side of his head, bandage recently removed. "Brione-"

"Don't." She lays the gauze down next to her, unable to meet his eyes. She doesn't want to think about the fact these are their last days together, the fact this could very well be the last time she hears him say her name. There wasn't much guaranteed after their non-human crewmembers stepped off the ship, nothing saying he had to stay with her, even over light years separating them, "I'll see Chakwas once, once everyone is gone. Shepard will have my head if I lose a hand before we get there anyway."

"You can't hide in here forever, Brione," Is all he says, giving her a concerned look but finishing his diagnostics on the console first, "No reason in putting it off."

This talk has been a week coming. He hesitates, unsure of himself while she tries to will the tears away, turning away from him. What was she, six? She could handle a suicide mission (which they'd all nearly died on), so why was saying goodbye, saying see you later, saying that she'd see him again soon so hard? She was a captain of the Alliance military, not a babbling schoolgirl with a crush.

Except, that's what it felt like, navigating a relationship with him. She'd downright giggled at something he'd told her.

Does he know just how much he means to her?

It wasn't as if extranet access would be blocked for her when she got back to Earth. By every law that Shepard had learned (and in turn exploited) surprisingly quickly, most of the human operatives aboard the SR-2 wouldn't be arrested under the same duress she would be. Brione could still send messages to Palaven, could still say hello every once and a while.

Hello wasn't the same as being able to sit in a comfortable silence with one at the console, the other completing her daily reports with her legs folded under her, hair tied up in a messy bun at the base of neck. Hello wasn't the same as finding leftovers from the dinner prepared earlier and pulling all-nighters just to spend some time together.

Brione wasn't sure when this had turned into more, when she had started to want more. When she couldn't think of a tomorrow without him. At first, she'd just entertained it as little more than a fling, if she was going to die at the end of the year, then she could cross a few things off her bucket list. And, he was a friend. They'd met a few years before the SR-1, a one off meeting during her shore leave. Then they'd been squadmates, fighting their way through waves and waves of Geth, two snipers snipping at each other for their aim. It boggled the mind that it'd been so quick after Alchera, that she started to discover little things about him when she had little else to do. The small visits about the battery that turned into hour long conversations once she'd rejoined the Normandy. One or the other venting about a minor problem or a large one they'd held onto for so long they'd made a joke of it.

He'd patiently listened when she recounted the dressing down she'd been given after Torfan and the therapy sessions she'd attended afterwards. That, she'd never told anyone about in detail. Hated reliving the day, but it slipped from her mouth so easily while she'd been sitting on the crates. Then she'd sipped on some sort of tea Shepard had picked up on the Citadel, listening to him about Sidonis, about his time on Omega in general. That by the time they were within range of the relay, she'd simply decided she didn't want to let go. That there wasn't anyone like him, that there was so much left that she still wanted. They'd spent the night on the cot he'd dragged in here sometime ago, and she'd never felt so alive.

Then they'd survived. And then there was a whole new life expanding before her, with the Reapers looming over them. But she'd lived, they'd lived, and now she wasn't sure what they were. It wasn't a fling anymore, but she didn't know where he fit into her life.

Whether he wanted to fit in her life. She's sure he could have just about anyone, and he hadn't seemed too upset, giving her the way out of asking whether she wanted something closer to home.

How did he become her home? It could've been anywhere else, on Earth, in London, on the Citadel. But instead, it was a certain Garrus Vakarian.

"This isn't -- it isn't the end, Brione, not if you don't want it to be," He holds a hand out to her, "If I know Shepard, and I'd assume I do, she'll get us back into the thick of it within a couple months. If that."

"That might be a little optimistic," She responds, toying with her hair for a moment before grasping his hand, pulling herself up off the cot to look at him properly. She gently holds a hand against the scarred side of his head, brushing the rough plates with her thumb, "I would've been rather stupid to think this would last forever, running into the sunset. I'm just glad we had what we did, Garrus."

He leans into her touch, his other arm snaking around her waist. Why did it have to be him that she'd become attached to? The first person that'd make her feel more like a living being than a cold blooded killer that remained a few seconds from death every time she stepped off the ship?

Why is he all she can think about these days?

"I," He pauses again, "I'll always just be a comm away. If that's what you want, of course."

"Always, hm?" She asks, "Don't know how timezones work from Earth to Palaven, but if you haven't noticed, I'm not much of sleeping person. You could lose a lot of it, talking to me. But you've never minded it before now, I guess."

"It'd be better than nothing." He responds, when she drops her hand and instead pulls him closer to her. Maybe it's not the most comfortable with him in armor, and her still regularly needing their dwindling supply of pain meds, but she just wants to feel something, anything. She can't go back to the way things were, alone, and cold in an alliance apartment with nothing but her next meal going for her.

"I don't want to leave you, Garrus," She admits, her voice cracking. Brione won't cry, she wills herself not to, even as the dam strains against them, "You, damn you, you're...everything."

"You're...lovely yourself, Brione. Not like I'm itching to leave either, not when everything's already going right for once," He responds, the words thrumming through what she thinks are Turian subvocals. If Turians even can whisper, she's pretty sure he is while gently running his hands through her hair, then trailing down her back, "But I'm not sure I look all that good in...what was it Shepard called it? 'Jumpsuit orange'? Not sure how friendly the Alliance would be to me either."

"Probably not very," She tries to laugh, tries to force anything out at all, but instead all she gets is a choking sound that she could compare to a varren. A rogue tear slips out anyway, and all she hopes for is that Garrus can't see it. Why is she falling apart? Why now? She has a million and three battles under her belt, and this is what shatters her? Not a shotgun, not a scion, but this.

She'd said goodbye to so many people before. To her various adoptive parents over the years, her old COs, even Alenko more recently. None of them destroyed her like this was.

Relationships. They're impossible. They're weaknesses and vulnerabilities that your enemies are just waiting to take advantage of. Even more if your's is a cross-species liaison, one that shouldn't have become everything that it was now.

Brione doesn't want to live without him.

She can't bring herself to say it out loud, so she doesn't. He holds her a little while longer, they don't say anything but reassuring the other all would be well. Or at least they try, and it dissolves until silence when there isn't anything to say but repeat themselves ten times over. They sit for a while after that, time whittling down all the while. Her hands fit a bit oddly in his, but she can't find herself wanting to let go all the while.

Shepard's voice comes over the comm with a timer on their arrival, and she has to pick up her things, fastening the last button on her jacket and throwing her duffel bag over her shoulder. Garrus offers her one last lingering forehead touch when they reach the airlock, and she kisses him softly, knowing if she stays any longer, she won't be able to leave.

But she does. She has to be able to.

She sees him off, the glint of his blue armor the last thing she sees. She thinks she's the perfect picture of someone who was trying (and inwardly failing) to stay afloat with a forced grin and a wave as he walks off. Brione doesn't care, as much as the crew teases her about calibrations in more than one capacity. A few get a smile out of her, but she feels numb the rest of the way to Earth.

Cold. It settles in like an all too familiar blanket. The chill of not really seeing the faces of the people around her, nor acknowledging what they had to say.

She slips back into her normal routines, after the hearing. Doesn't even realize it at first, but without her usual visits to someone who wasn't dolled up in Alliance blue, there's nothing to it. She's shuttled back to the Citadel after a month, sent to work with Udina. A liaison to Alliance and from the Council, is effectively her job description. It's like clockwork, sleep, work, find something to eat if she was feeling physically up to it, work until she couldn't, then reluctantly sleep again. Fix up her sniper rifle on the weekends, take it to a range to keep herself sharp.

There's no Turian on her six though. No one there to bother her that her shot is off just a few inches so that clips the outside of the target.

She sees his face in every single one that walks by until they all blur together. She hears his voice in every C-SEC officer that speaks to Udina, to her.

It isn't until two months later that she receives a mail on her comm. Right in the middle of another one of Udina's tirades about the lack of Council support and funding, she opens it like any other email she'd received before. Calculating, tired, she reads over the sender, the subject line and is halfway through scrolling through it when the glaze over her eyes recedes and she realizes just who it is. Her breath catches in her throat, taking her leave for the afternoon.

She finally gets a call after work that day. And just as suspected, it keeps her up all night. There's so much to say, so much that she hadn't known. Her new job, his new task force. And yet, he still seems so indescribably happy to see her. That her eyes are barely being held open to focus on him, but that he's here, as much as he can be.

"Sure you don't want to take back that offer of always being on the other end of the comm? Now that we've done it, I might get a taste for it," She says, yawning as she absentmindedly rubs an eye. Udina will give her shit for being there late in the morning (in a couple hours really), but she doesn't care.

"As long as you want me to be," He nods, "Well, hopefully you don't start calling me at the oddest hours of the night or in the middle of meetings, but always, yes."

"Hm. I'll file it under consideration," She perches her head on her palm, taking in every detail the vid would let her, "Always?"

"Always. Now get some sleep, Brione," His voice softens, mandibles flaring into a smile as her vision blurs, "Good night."

Five months after that, communication to Palaven goes dark. The Reapers attack, and she watches wide-eyed as they touch down in Earth.

And her always becomes an empty promise with every refugee she watches come in during the days afterwards.

Garrus is not among them.

[keigoaizawaslut]

~I hate that I love you~

Oneshot

Loki x avenger reader

summary: tired of Loki being a cocky little shit the reader finally decides to take it into her on hands.

WARNINGS- it takes a mintue to get there but I promise its worth it lol SMUTTTT, kinky sex, rough sex, NASTY THINGS😏

Song inspo- Bruno Mars -Gorillas

I reallyy suggest you give it a listen when getting to the smut parts😉

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The God of Mischief, everything about the idiot made you want to choke him. His tall intimidating height and marvelously sculpted body. His beautiful soft long black hair that you wanted to tangle your fingers in along with piercing green-blue eyes and sharp dominant facial features that decorated his stupidly handsome face. Everything about Loki made you extremely hot and bothered in all the best and worst ways. You hated his guts but you so desperately wanted him in yours.

One minute you want jump him and fuck the god so hard he forgets his name but other times you want to pick him up and throw him over the Stark Tower its like you hated that you loved the god so much. To make matters worst the cocky little shit knew the affect he had on you. Though you would never admit that he actually had an affect on you he knew somehow and you hated it. The teasing was nonstop and he knew just how to get under your skin. The light touches and hot unholy whispers in your ear nearly drove you insane. Loki took pride in making you suffering knowing that you'd never do anything about it...or so he thought.

After a few bottles of liquid encouragement you had convinced yourself it was time to put a stop to his stupidity and came up with the most perfect idea your drunk mind could think of. You decided to fight fire with fire and you so desperately wanted to be burnt. You were going to seduce the Mischievous god and see just how much he could handle what he put you through. A taste of his own medicine.

The next morning you started planning. Quickly getting dressed and making your way to the living room only to run into Natasha. "Where are you off to so quickly Y/N?" she asked giving u a suspicious look. Knowing you could never lie to the assassin you told her your plan and made her swear on her life to not tell anyone else especially Thor. He a nice lovable guy but damn the man can gossip and if it gets to him the whole world would know.

"Well thank god your finally doing something about it. Bout time you do something about all your pent up sexual frustration" she says as she laughs as you glare at her and quickly grab some keys and head out the door.

Sighing as you make your way into the small lingerie shop you go in before you could change your mind about the plan. Walking through the store you quickly find the little number you're looking for. With a devious and proud smile you make your way to the counter to buy your items spotting a pair of handcuffs behind the counter. "Could you throw those in too" you shyly ask the store clerk who stares at you for a bit but happily grabs them and scans your remaining items.

After finishing your small shopping trip you quickly shot Nat a text to make sure Loki's not home. When she confirmed he was out on a mission with Thor and wouldn't be back till around midnight you smiled and quickly made your way back home the plan going perfectly.

Making your through the house as discreetly as you could with the bags you were carrying you hastily made your way to Loki's room picking the look with magic and entered the clean and pristine room. You'd been in there a few times before but never really took in all the details. His room was huge, dark green walls were decorated with books and large king size bed with the most delicate of black silk sheets and and nightstand on either side. His large windows were covered with green and black curtains blocking out the moonlight with a large desk right by it. You had guessed it was for this research and reading. It was truly something fit for a prince.

Looking at your watch seeing it was already around 9 you got to work. Grabbing your bag you emptyed all its belongings onto the bed. Picking up the steel handcuffs you placed them on the headboard knowing they were going to be a fun tool you would use later. Next you laid out the little number you got from the shop smirking knowing your were going to drive the god crazy with it. The green and black set would surely get all of his undivided attention with a long black silk to finishing off the look. Laying it all out on the bed you took out a box of condoms and a few other small things. Grabbing the set you quickly head to the gods bathroom to shower and prep for a night you've honestly been waiting for.

Getting out of the shower after shaving and exfoliating you quickly dried off and started on your hair but in the end you decided to leave it down in it natural curls and settled for a tad bit of lip gloss and mascara. Getting dressed and hastily putting your robe on you looked at your phone to see it was 11:50. Getting a little excited as Loki should be here any minute you exited the bathroom and after spraying a tad of prefume laid in the king size bed waiting for the prince to enter.

Loki knew something was slightly off. Looking for you to pick with and tease only to realized you weren't here. Sighing a bit sadly he made his way to his room. Though he wouldnt admit it Loki knew had falling for you but he didnt have to nerve to tell you worried of scaring you away so he just acted like a asshole to push you away from him instead.

Unlocking his door and entering his dark room he automatically knew he wasn't alone. Pulling out a dagger he felt around his room to find the light switch only to be blown completely away but what he saw when they turnt on.

"Hi Loki" you say seductively as you sat on the edge of bed legs wide open for him to see. "I-um..Y/N" he says still in shock but quickly trying to regain his dominant and confident persona. "What's wrong love? what happened to that sliver tongue of yours hmm?" you questioned confidently standing from the bed and making your way over to him. Running a finger down his strong chest you looked up at the god knowing completely what you were doing to him by the bulge in his pants. " Y/N if you continue with your actions I will have no choice but to ravish you on every piece of furniture in this room" he says in such a deep voice you can feel your panties getting wetter as every word slips from his lips.

" That was the plan my king" you purr seductively into his ear as you watch his eyes darken with lust. Smirking he says "I did not know you had it in you kitten I'm impressed" Pulling you into a rough but passionate kiss Loki's hands roamed all down your body caressing each and every curve along the way. Roughly grabbing your ass making you moan in the process allowing Loki's tongue to enter your mouth easily over powering yours. As your hands tangle in his soft hair you slowly break off the kiss but not before nipping at the gods bottom lip. Grabbing his hand and leading him to the king size bed you pushed him onto the bed and slowly and seductively crawled on top.

Sitting in the gods lap making you both groan as his leather covered bugle got harder underneath your dripping sex. You kissed him again slowly but just as rough as the first while your hands made quick work of his amour and shirt throwing it across the room. " Lay down" you say dominantly taking the god off guard but he complied slowly laying his head against the soft pillows. Grabbing his hands one by one you cuffed them to each side of the headborad the mischievous god too turned on to protest so he let you eager to see what you had in store for him.

Getting off of him you walked to the center of the room knowing Loki was watching you added a tad bit more sway to your hips. Turning around you slowly let your robe drop from your shoulders letting the god see completely what you had to offer him. Loki groaned loud as he took you in completely eyes slowly raking down your whole body making you hotter by the minute.

“Stop the torture love, Come and sit on my face” He said in such a deep lustful voice you almost came undone right then and there. Not needing to be told twice you quickly made your way over to the bed climbing on top of the god making your way to hover just above his face. Moving your panties aside for the god he got right to work sucking harshly on you clit and tasting everything you had to offer. His groans sending vibrations through you heated core making you legs shake a bit moaning loudly knowing you werent going to last long. Feeling strong arms around your hips holding you in place you gasp. Realizing Loki broke the cuffs but to far gone in ecstasy to care anymore. "Ahh Loki...please" you pleaded feeling a all too familiar coil in your stomach. "Please what love" Loki asked in between small slow licks on your dripping wet core pushing you closer to the edge with lick of his tongue. " ohh make me cum Loki..please" before you even finished your sentences completely you were on your back Loki's head still in between your slighty shaky legs. Gasping as he went back to work while entering two long fingers inside of you his tongue expertly drawing figured 8's on you clit. You were seeing stars as your hands worked there way into Loki's hair slightly tugging and pulling here and there. Feeling his fingers pick up pace you couldn't take it anymore finally letting go as Loki lapped up all your juices not missing a drop. " By the Gods darling you taste even better then you look" Loki said as he made his way back up your body lips connecting instantly.

Loki stood from the bed not breaking the kiss grabbing by the thighs to pick up your legs immediately wrapping around his waist moan as you feel his cock press against your sensitive core. He walked you over to his desk and letting you down carefully. "Turn around" he said not asking but telling you but you didnt mind as you did as you were told. Bending you over the desk Loki pressed himself flush against you. "You see what you've caused love. You did this to me and now we're going to take care of it" his words doing nothing but making your wet cunt quake with excitement and you couldn't do anything but just moan in response. Hearing his belt unbuckle and pants fall to the ground you bit your lip in anticipation.

Gripping your hair not enough to hurt you but enough to make you know he was in charge Loki pressed his now bare cock between your pantie covered folds teasing you relentlessly. " I am going to ruin you for any other man Y/N. In fact there'll never be another man. You are mines" Loki whispers hotly into your ear making your hips move involuntarily grinding into his cock. Laying you back down on the desk Loki slowly makes work of your panties and bra getting rid of both throwing them somewhere. "God you're a work of art" Loki groans as he kisses down your back hand leading his throbbing cock towards your core.

Roughly and quickly Loki was fully inside of you in a instant. Pushing your hips back letting him know to move he pulled almost completely out before slamming back into your pussy setting a ungodly pace. Gripping the desk as he pounded into you so vigorously you gasp and moaned as you felt and stinging on your ass cheek. " You like that dont you kitten? You like when I'm being rough with you? fucking you so hard that you can barely speak?" Loki groaned gripping your hair giving your ass another smack. "ahhh.....Yes Lokii" you felt that coil again knowing you were about to cum.

".Fuck.. Loki" you moaned loudly surely everyone in the house heard but honestly you didn't give a damn. "Thats right love scream my name. Let everyone know who makes you feel this good. Who your body desires at night. Who fucks you like no other man ever will. Say it." he groans loudly thrusting into at a crucial pace. "You Loki....ahh..nobody else but you" you say as your legs start to shake .

"Im gonna cum" for the second time tonight you feel you cunt tighten ready to release again. "Cum for me darling. cum for Your King" Loki said as his hand found their way to your breast gripping them and slowly rolling your nipples between his fingers finishing you off as you came hard tighten around his cock triggering Loki's orgasm to follow right behind yours sending thick hot ropes of cum into your core.

Picking you up and carrying you to bed Loki went into the bathroon getting a warm towel to clean you both off and slide into bed next to you."Hey" you smiled brightly at the god next to you. "Hello love" he replied causing you both to laugh a bit. "You know I meant what I said about you being mines. I dont want to share you with with anyone else Y/N" Loki spoke lightly almost shy."I wouldn't have it any other way my love" you smiled brightly at him giving him a small kiss. Wrapping his strong arms around you, sleep fell upon you both quickly for it was the first time you both went to sleep truly happy in a long time.

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Hi guys I know it been forever since I posted a story. I'm kinda rusty so I hope you guys dont hate it too bad lol love you guys😩💛. Comment and Reblog plz😊

[lespetitesmortsde]

Any chance of a continuation of the Banana bread FF because I need more like right now? it was so freaking cute omfg pretty please with a cherry on top?!🙈

I’m sorry it took so long, but here it is:

Chloe’s been in her house for a week and has spent every evening texting Beca after she gets home from work. The day she’d first met Beca, she texted herself from Beca’s phone so that she’d have her number.

Ever since, Chloe’s been using it liberally. She can’t use it during the day because she doesn’t want her students picking up bad habits from her. They’re at the age of ten, highly influential, and she wants them to know she’s 100% there during their time together.

Trying to be a good role model can be difficult.

She doesn’t text Beca directly after school either. Usually she has a meeting of some kind, either with a parent, a colleague, or a student. Then, instead of bringing her work home with her, she stays at her desk marking or prepping future lesson plans.

When she gets home, though, after she’s showered, Beca’s phone is open season.

Sometimes she starts by saying hello to her favourite baker. Other times she asks Beca about her day. Most often, though, she just launches into a story about one of her kids from that day.

Chloe: So I gave them a word association test today

Beca: I thought you needed informed consent before you could run psychological experiments on kids?

Chloe: Not for that reason!

Beca: lol

Chloe: You’re the worst.

Beca: Alright, I’m sorry. You were saying?

Chloe: Okay so

Beca: Wait how long is this story?

Chloe: BECA!

Beca: What?! We live next door. If it’s a long story you might as well just come over and tell it to me in person.

Chloe: I’m in the middle of making dinner.

Beca: Cool. I haven’t eaten yet. Be right over.

Chloe looks down at the takeout menu in her hand. “Crap.” Someone knocks at the door. Chloe looks at the pile of takeout menus on the counter. “Coming!” she shouts, tossing the one she was holding on top and sweeping the lot into a random drawer.

When she opens the door, Beca is on her doorstep with a bottle of wine in each hand. “I didn’t know if you preferred red or white,” she shrugged. “So I brought both.” Chloe steps to the side, blushing a little in embarrassment because Beca’s going to find out really soon that she can’t really cook.

Beca walks past her into the house and slips off her shoes. Finally she actually looks at Chloe. Concern hits her eyes immediately. “Hey, is something wrong? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I totally just invited myself over without even asking and, ugh, I’m sorry I’m such a dick,” she chastises herself, putting the bottles down on the table Chloe’s placed in the hall and leaning down to put her shoes back on.

Chloe’s too enamoured at how cute and awkward Beca’s being; it takes three seconds too long for her to put a hand on Beca’s arm. “No!” Chloe denies strongly. “Don’t go,” she continues and Beca at least pauses. “You don’t have to leave,” Chloe adds.

“Dude, no, I should, I was like super rude-”

“Stay please! I’m just embarrassed,” Chloe admits, shifting her weight on her feet.

Beca looks up, at the moment seemingly convinced not to leave. “Why?”

Chloe’s cheeks turn red. “I, uh, wasn’t technically cooking…”

Beca nods. “I was gonna say, for someone in the middle of dinner prep it does not at all smell of food in here.”

Chloe covers her face with her hands as Beca chuckles softly. “I know! I was going through takeout menus.”

Beca brushes Chloe’s hands off of her face. “So why not just say that?”

Vaguely, Chloe gestures at Beca’s whole body. Beca just stares back, confused.

“What, is there something on my shirt?” Beca asks, as she looks down at herself and starts twisting around to try and find a stain.

Chloe fights the urge to roll her eyes. “No, you look great, of course you do, it’s just that you’re, like, a super talented baker and I can barely make mac and cheese from a box,” Chloe says, eyes downcast.

Beca nudges her. “Relax, Chlo, the great thing about modernity is that cooking is not a required skill.” A little unsure, Beca pats Chloe on the arm. “Honestly? Without a recipe, I am at a loss with cooking. Baking and cooking are not the same thing, like at all.” She nods at the menu in Chloe’s hands. “I should show you my own collection.”

Smiling shyly, Chloe grabs a couple more menus from beside the fridge and offers them to Beca. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”

Sorting through them, Beca adopts a comically unsure expression, breaking a little into a smile when Chloe giggles. After another shuffle through, Beca raises an eyebrow and declares, “Do you trust me?”

Chloe laughs. “I trusted you even before I knew you,” she says, referring to the banana bread that still sometimes stars in her daydreams.

“Okay,” Beca says easily. “No food allergies?”

Chloe shakes her head.

“No peeking, Beale,” Beca instructs as she pulls out her phone and then she wanders into Chloe’s living room.

Beca dials up her favourite delivery restaurant in town, and waits for Linda to pick up.

“Fortune City Inn, how can I help you?”

“Hey Linda,” Beca says, looking back to check Chloe’s location. She moves farther away from her friend.

“Beca! The usual?” Linda asks, real elation entering her voice.

“Actually no, I’m going to branch out a bit. M goy ngau naam wonton mein, suk mi guy tong, yeung jow chow faan, hoyow gai lan, and jeeu pai chow mein.”

“You’re going to have leftovers!” Linda laughs. “Alright, it’ll be there in 35 minutes.”

“Oh, can you actually deliver it to the house beside mine?” Beca asks, then rattles off Chloe’s address.

“No problem,” Linda says. “Will you need the machine?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Okay, enjoy your evening!”

“You, too!” Beca hangs up and goes back into the kitchen. “Okay, food will be here in about half an hour. What should we do until then?”

Chloe grins, “Netflix?”

Beca laughs. “I still can’t believe that that was the first thing you set up for your new place, right after your Internet.”

“What can I say, TV is important to me!”

Beca smiles indulgently. “What are we watching, then?”

Chloe happily claps a little as she goes to grab her laptop from her office and sets it up on the coffee table. “I’ll set it up if you get the drinks?”

“Sure thing,” Beca agrees. She walks over to Chloe’s random utensil drawer and pulls out the wine opener. She uncorks the bottle of white and grabs two glasses from beside the sink.

When she gets back to the couch, Chloe has her portable speaker set up and the Netflix intro screen up.

“So you never answered what we’re watching…”

“You’ll find out! It’s a comedy though.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Yup, that narrows it down for sure.”

Chloe glares playfully. “Watch it, Mitchell, I could still throw on a rom-com movie instead.”

Hastily, Beca hits the spacebar and sits back against the couch while the intro plays. Chloe smiles triumphantly and settles against Beca’s side.

“I’m assuming you haven’t seen any of this so we’re starting at the beginning. The new season comes out tomorrow.”

“Great, Chlo,” Beca says. “Still haven’t got a clue what it is.”

“Wait for it…” Chloe warns and after another few scenes,” One Day at a Time” appears on the side of the building.

“Isn’t this from the fifties or something?”

Chloe shakes her head. “It’s a remake and it’s awesome. Now shush.” And she devotes her attention to the screen in front of them in such a way that Beca has to follow suit.

Beca has to admit, it’s pretty funny. And even though knowing someone as overdramatic as Lydia in real life would suck, she might be Beca’s favourite character.

Halfway through the second episode, Chloe’s doorbell rings, and Beca immediately jumps for the door. Chloe takes the time to pause the show before following Beca out to her hallway.

Beca’s already got her card in the machine. The man at the door waves to Chloe and then he tears off Beca’s receipt.

“Do zeh,” she calls after him and then closes the door. She turns around to see Chloe behind her.

“What language is that?” Chloe asks, holding her arms out to help Beca carry the bags of food.

“Uh, Cantonese,” Beca says, and then walks right by Chloe to the kitchen.

“Where did you learn Cantonese?” Chloe asks, sounding both surprised and impressed.

“Oh, my mom and I used to go there a lot. The owner, Linda, taught us how to say some of the things we like in Canto, so now we can always impress, or maybe entertain is the better word, the ladies at different Chinese restaurants,” Beca answers as she pulls containers out of the bags and sets them on Chloe’s counter.

“Can I hear some?” Chloe asks as she pulls plates from a cupboard and digs around for napkins.

Beca laughs, “Maybe some other time, Beale, I have such a white person accent it’s not even funny.” She tosses a package of chopsticks on each plate.

“Still, it’s cool that you try,” Chloe says. She looks at Beca for a moment. Beca’s not sure what crosses Chloe’s face before she’s turning away to grab some serving utensils.

“Thanks.” Beca’s not sure why she blushes either.

“It smells delicious, but what am I eating?” Chloe asks, inspecting the various dishes. “I mean, clearly this is some sort of fried rice, this is a soup with corn? And this is wonton soup with noodles and some kind of meat, but anything more specific than that, I’m lost.”

“Oh right,” Beca says, and then steps closer to Chloe to differentiate the dishes with her pointer finger. “So I got us some house special fried rice, beef brisket and wonton noodle soup, creamy chicken and corn egg drop soup, and house special chow mein. Oh, and some oyster sauce gai lan.”

“Cool, let me grab a couple of bowls for the soup and some spoons, and then we can either migrate our Netflix set-up to the kitchen table or we can eat on the couch.”

“I don’t want to accidentally ruin your couch with sauce or soup or something, so we should probably move to the table,” Beca said, going over to move the computer onto the table.

“If you grab the shoebox from beside the couch, we can prop the laptop up for better ergonomics,” Chloe suggests as she closes a cupboard and places bowls beside the plates on the counter. She slips a spoon onto each plate too.

Beca finds the shoebox and does as she’s told and then joins Chloe back at the food. She serves them both some of each soup while Chloe fills her plate with little piles of everything else. Beca takes their bowls of soups over to the table before going back to load up her own plate.

After sitting down, Chloe breaks her chopsticks and then hits play just as Beca slides into the chair beside her. She’s brought a couple of little plastic containers with her, and opens them.

“So by all means try the soup without this stuff,” Beca says as the One Day at a Time intro plays through. “But if you want a little extra flavour, Linda sent some white pepper and soy sauce.” And then Beca proceeds to dump a small mound of white pepper into her soup, circling it with a couple rings of soy sauce.

Chloe nods and tries the soup. It’s good, but it’s also kind of basic, so she follows Beca’s lead and adds the flavouring agents, albeit in smaller doses than Beca did. Then she heaps some noodles, rice, and gai lan onto her plate.

“Want some of the wonton soup?” Beca asks as Elena and Alex bicker on screen.

“Oh, sure, thanks,” Chloe says, throwing a brief smile in Beca’s direction.

They watch two episodes, both of them managing to put away impressive mounds of food. Beca helps wrap up some leftover noodles and rice and tucks them into the back corner of Chloe’s fridge. Meanwhile, Chloe refills their wine glasses, draining the last of the bottle into Beca’s glass and opening a new one for her own.

“Back to the couch?” Chloe asks, calling through to the kitchen. Beca’s head pops out of the doorway.

“Sounds great, I’m just wrapping things up,” Beca says, making a face at her unexpected pun. Chloe laughs at her and then goes about moving their Netflix setup back to the couch.

They settle in with their wine and watch another three episodes, Chloe leaning against Beca’s side as Elena and Alex share a moment followed by a hug.

Completely ignoring the show still going on, Chloe moves her face closer to Beca’s. “Hey, are you okay?”

Beca’s eyes make a watery glance toward Chloe. “You said this was a comedy, Beale.” Her voice sounds a little choked up. The episode fades to the credits and Chloe quickly reaches over to prevent it from going to the next. When she looks back, Beca is gazing at her softly, the watery quality to her eyes seemingly dissipating. Chloe leans in closer to Beca, and she swears Beca leans in closer too.

At the last second, Beca pulls back slightly. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for the evening and should probably head home.

And just like that, reality comes rushing back to Chloe. She smiles, a little tightly, “Not embarrassed, Becs, but yeah, I can see you out.” She gets up off the couch and Beca follows, taking a moment to take her empty wine glass to the kitchen before meeting Chloe at the door.

“Next time, you gotta prepare me for the feels, okay?” Beca says, sliding on her shoes.

“You should probably just always be ready for the feels in that show,” Chloe advises.

They hesitate in the doorway once Beca’s shoes are on and there’s nothing left to chat about. Before Chloe can bring up the elephant in the room, Beca squeaks out, “Okay, well, see you around, Chlo,” and opens the door before disappearing to her own house.

She closes the door, locks it, and goes back to throw herself upon the couch, already replaying the evening and asking where she went wrong reading the signals.

[baadbaadblacksheep]

Bihhhh Gabe - kitchen. Genji - bathroom Jack - attic Jesse - bedroom. You don’t have to do them alllll

Bih you know I’m gonna. 

These are my personal HCs for LtR, read below the cut:

Gabe - Kitchen:

What is the character’s favourite food?

Gabe’s eaten a wide variety of foods, but nothing will ever beat his abuela’s cooking. Her carne asada is just the best. It just is. And don’t get him started about her tamales.

Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?

Gabe is the best cook in the household. He’s no 5 star chef, but he knows what spices are and how to use them, unlike Jack, who uses none, and Genji, whose version of cooking is to dump everything he can find in a pan and then forget he was attempting to cook until the fire alarm reminds him.

Do they leave the dishes out?

Seeing dishes left on the counter, on the stove, or even in the sink makes Gabe flinch like his abuela’s smacked his knuckles with a wooden spoon when he was younger for such offenses. He physically can not stand to leave dishes out.

What kind of food is in their refridgerator?

Wiith high-calorie intaking veterans and a bottomless pit named Jesse in the house, they have to keep stocked. There is always a ridiculous amount of eggs and bacon in the fridge, peppers and onions galore, apple juice for Genji and sports drinks for the guys, beer Jesse thought he could hide, meats and vegetables Gabe plans on using that week for a meal or three, sandwich fixings that only Jesse and Jack really seem to use. That’s just the fridge. The pantry is ridiculous.

Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food more?

As much as Gabe likes to cook, he doesn’t cook incredibly often. Maybe twice a week if work isn’t too heavy on him. Gabe tends to order or pick up food on his way home for everyone. Gabe is more inclined to cook if someone asks him to make something specific that week. Gabe will especially help cook when they visit his abuela, and is an unstoppable force in the kitchen for holidays.

———————-

Genji - Bathroom:

How does the character prepare in the morning?

Genji is early to rise most of the time, not able to sleep once the warm body next to him is gone (he indulges more in sleeping in once Jesse is one of those warm bodies). Which is good, considering he’ll take his time getting ready for the day. Full face wash, careful makeup application, hair perfectly gelled or moussed. He’ll take forever getting dressed, wanting Jack’s (or whoever he can trap) opinion on what panties he should wear, which day collar to show off, which of his ridiculous collection of plugs to wear. He’ll catch up on beauty and fashion people he follows on social media the whole time he’s getting ready.

Do they sing in the shower?

By himself, no. Genji showering by himself will usually just be him staring at the wall for 35 minutes. Genji does not like to shower alone. When he gets to shower with Jesse, they’ll listen to music and sing along as loudly and obnoxiously as possible. Attempted dance moves have resulted in some chain-reaction slipping and falling and therefore are not repeated.

What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?

Genji’s hair stylist, Amelie, gives him his hair products. They’re all French and he has no idea what’s in them, but she would kill him if he used anything else. Makeup, Genji has it all, as far as brands go. Especially anything that’s getting rave reviews online or is a new trend. Jack makes him clean out his makeup boxes and drawers every few months due to it accumulating at a ridiculous rate.

How clean is this character?

Genji is ridiculous. He hates sweat on him for too long. Outdoor activities are usually avoided, as there’s dirt out there. Genji will indulge in a spa day usually twice a month to scrub him down and wax everything, as well as get an immaculate mani/pedi experience. The boy’s nails are always pristine and clean. And I was just talking to Trash about enemas for a reason… He’s clean inside and out.

Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials?

Genji has a stupid plethora of body washes, perfumes, soaps, oils, and bath bombs. He loves to smell good. But Amelie would crash through a window and destroy him the second he bought any hair product she didn’t recommend. At least that’s what he think she’d do, anyway. Better not to risk it.

——————–

Jack - Attic:

What is the character afraid of?

Jack is a war veteran, plagued by nightmares consisting of memories twisted into things of horror. He’s seen and done things he’d rather not repeat, ever, not in action or word. Despite being in the BDSM community, Jack is afraid he will hurt someone, truly hurt them. He doesn’t trust himself to deliver pain for pleasure when it gets to a certain point. And he will not choke someone.

How do they deal with bad memories?

Usually their memories crop up in the form of nightmares, though explosions and gunfire will occasionally bring forward some flashbacks. Gabe grounds him, and he does the same for Gabe, bringing each other back to the present. When Genji came into his life, Genji would be there for the nightmares and the flashbacks, and learned quickly how to ease him back down. Jack has some bad memories regarding his family and hometown, but he’ll just harden his expression and press past it if they ever come up.

What is this character’s role in a horror movie?

Jack would call the police on a spooky house. He doesn’t play that shit lol. In the midst of actual danger, though, Jack would be the one to gather everyone together and come up with the plan to get out of the situation alive.

How do they hide their secrets?

Jack is pretty open at this point in his life. If someone doesn’t know something about him, it’s probably just because they haven’t asked about it. As a younger man, Jack struggled with learning himself so much he developed many secrets, mostly about how he really felt about things versus how people expected him to feel. He used bullheaded pride and anger to cover himself when he was feeling like he would be exposed, but in the end he merely came clean and freed himself from secrets.

Which of the Seven Deadly Sins does the character relate to most?

Pride. Jack may be open about himself but he likes to maintain an image, which, when challenged, makes that old prideful attitude rear its head again. Gabe has known him for so long that he’ll pick at Jack’s prideful side and humble him at times.

——————

Jesse - Bedroom:

How does this character sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines)

Jesse just falls asleep when he feels like it. Not much prep to it. He’ll get jostled by Gabe to wake up and go brush his teeth when he falls asleep without doing it first. Jesse usually lays on his back or stomach, ending up in weird positions and places in bed half the time, but if someone wants to spoon or have him snuggle up to them, he’ll lay on his side… though he usually ends up squirming away. He runs hot at night and gets sweaty up against another body.

What are their pyjamas like?

Flannel pajama pants and an old, soft, too-large-on-him shirt of Gabe’s in cooler months, just silly boxers that Genji (and sometimes Gabe) get him when it’s warmer.

What do they dream about usually?

Santa Fe, his Mama, and Gabe.

How neat/tidy is this character?

Jesse doesn’t try to be messy, but he ends up thinking he’ll come back to something or someplace, only to get distracted and leave his mess behind for someone else to find. He’ll help clean up the kitchen after Gabe cooks, and he keeps his personal bedroom tidy. He won’t fret over organization, however, and his clothes are never folded right. He’s a strange kind of in-between with his tidiness.

How affectionate is this character?

Jesse will sling an arm around someone as he stands with them, but generally doesn’t outright show affection unless he really needs it. He will cuddle the shit out of his boyfriends in private, though.