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noforkingclue · 4 years ago

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I Just Want To Sleep (Bucky x reader)

Summary: If you had a chance to get rid of your nightmares forever would you take it? Even if that solution was to share a bed with someone you just about tolerated?

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mutual pining, angst

MCU tag list: @geocookie21

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

Everyone had nightmares, they were just another part of the job. It was known that most people got them, whether they lasted a couple of days after a mission or a lifetime. It was a fact that everyone knew about but just didn’t talk about it. That sort of thing wasn’t done.

Nightmares always varied from person to person but always involved what people were working on. The lives they failed to save whether from friends, colleagues or innocent bystanders. You were used to hearing people waking up screaming or sobbing, people going to therapy but never talking to anyone else about it. But those weren’t the worst types to have. The worst was when people remembered the lives of the innocents they had taken themselves. The sounds of breaking bones and skulls shattering, children crying over the bodies of their parents begging them to wake up although you knew they never would.

The nightmares that made you question whether or not you were the heroes or the villains. The ones that made you question your own morals.

You had forgotten the last time you had gotten a decent nights last as you laid awake looking up at the ceiling. Eventually you sighed and got out of bed knowing that you’d never get back to sleep. You walked into the small kitchen of the safe house and poured yourself a glass of water.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jumped at the sound of Bucky’s voice breaking the silence of the night. You turned around and saw him lounging on the sofa, the blanket half hanging off of him. You made a point of only looking directly at his face, determined not to let your eyes wander over his bare chest.

“Same to you.” You said

“Everything alright?”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Heard you scream.”

You hesitated for a moment before saying quietly,

“Just nightmares, nothing new. You?”

“Same.”

There was a beat of silence. You looked around, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. You never spoke to anyone about your nightmares, even trying to avoid the topic with your therapist. Sam kept telling you it was unhealthy and while you knew he was right you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Bucky

“Do you want to talk about yours?”

Bucky’s silence told you anything. You gave him a pointed look as you took you water and left the room. Just because you and Bucky were working together didn’t mean that you had to open up completely to him. Not at all.

It was late (or early depending on who you asked) by the time you and Bucky collapsed back into the safe house. The mission took longer than both of you were expecting and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

“My turn to take the sofa.” You said

Bucky had been insistent that you took the bed when you two work together. He was strangely adamant that you shouldn’t share and you guessed that it was some hangover from the nineteen forties. You had argued that it was unfair that he was forced on the sofa each night and forced him to alternate who took the bed.

“You should take the bed again,” said Bucky, “You need it more than I do.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you said, “You might be a super soldier but I saw how hard you got hit. Take the bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You and Bucky glared at each other and while you were tired you weren’t about to give in. When Bucky smirked you knew he had a plan and when he laid down on the sofa he said,

“And where will you sleep now?”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Move please.”

“Make me.”

“If you don’t move right now I’ll sleep on top of you.”

“I don’t think you will.”

You smirked back at him before walked over and put your full bodyweight on him. Bucky groaned as you rested your head on his chest. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around you to prevent you falling off and you had to resist the urge to blush as he did so.

“You’re really stubborn you know that?” he said

“It’s one of my most endearing features.”

“You’re not moving are you?”

“Fine.” He grumbled

“Night Bucky.”

“Night y/n.”

You opened your eyes and groaned as the bright light assaulted them. Strong arms tightened around your waist and for a brief moment you had forgotten about what happened last night. You sat up with a jolt which caused Bucky’s grip on you to slip and for you to fall to the floor. Bucky sat bolt upright before looking down at you in amusement.

“Nice night Princess?” he asked

“What time is it?” you asked

Bucky shrugged and you glared up and you hunted for your watch. When you found it you blinked, not quite believing the time.

“Well?” Bucky asked as he lay back down

“What time did we get in last night?”

Bucky shrugged

“About three.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Then you’re watch is wrong.”

“No it’s not. Fuck,” you ran your fingers through your hair, “I can’t remember the last time I slept for seven hours straight.”

“That isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you’re the person who can comment on healthy sleeping patterns.”

“Never said I was doll.”

You looked over your shoulder and glared at Bucky when he used the nickname.

“Must’ve just been because we were tired,” you muttered, “That’s it!”

“Hmm.”

Bucky didn’t sound convinced and you rolled your eyes.

“You got a better idea?” you asked

Bucky sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. You rested your back against the side of the sofa and looked up at him.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “It has something to do with last night.”

“Last night?”

“When you fell asleep in my arms.”

“Only because you were being stubborn!”

“Right.”

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. You looked up at Bucky and you could see the hopeful uncertainty in his eyes. A way of helping your nightmares without having to openly discuss them with anyone else.

What did you have to lose?

“You’re taking up the whole bed!”

“No I’m not.”

“Well your leg is on my side.”

“This is a single bed. There are no sides!”

You and Bucky were back to back trying to cram into a too small bed. When it was just one of you the bed was the perfect size but it definitely wasn’t made for two people. You tried to pull some of the blanket over you but Bucky kept a firm grip on it.

“Give me some of that!”

“You have plenty.”

“Ugh,” you sat up and glared at him, “This was a stupid idea. Why did I even agree to it? Move, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere Princess.”

“Excuse me?”

“Err,” Bucky just realised what he had said, “That came out creepier than I intended.”

“You don’t say.”

“But please, just one more night.”

You wanted to say no, you really did, but one look at his pleading gaze had you melting. You sighed and nodded. He gave you a dazzling grin as you laid back down.

“But you need to move over.” You muttered

“Don’t blame me,” came the answer, “I’m not the person you decided it was a good idea to only supply single beds.”

You shifted again and your leg brushed Bucky’s. For a brief second he pressed back against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. You had forgotten how nice it was to sleep next to someone again even if the both of you might end up waking each other up with your nightmares. Eventually you heard Bucky sigh.

“It isn’t working like this.”

“I told you- hey!”

To your surprise Bucky didn’t get out of bed. Instead he pulled you into his arms. You were practically lying on top of him, your head resting against his chest. It was different from last time then you were half asleep but now you had never been more awake. Bucky moved so your leg slipped in between his and he rested his chin on top of your head. If anyone broke in now they’d probably mistake the two of you as a couple. You had never been more grateful that Sam had been out of the country.

“Better?” asked Bucky

“Yes.”

“You sure? You sound a bit-“

“I’m just tired.”

“Right. Night.”

“Night.”

And just like the night before you had the best night’s sleep in years, safely wrapped in the arms of a highly trained killer.

“What’s going on between you and Bucky? I left the two of you for a month and now you’re practically on top of each other.”

You couldn’t contain your blush as Sam looked at you over the rim of his coffee cup. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction and you said quickly,

“It isn’t what you think.”

“And what’ll that be.”

“We’re not sleeping with each other.”

“Right.”

“I mean, technically we are sleeping with each other.”

Sam, who had just taken a sip of his coffee, choked on it. He looked at you incredulously as you clarified,

“We’re not fucking. We’re literally just sharing a bed. I have absolutely no desire to have sex with Bucky Banes.”

“You’re probably one of the few people on this planet who wouldn’t.”

“Would you?”

Sam shrugged and you just rolled your eyes.

“But why? I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him,” you said, “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“He helps… he helps with the nightmares.”

“You’re still having them.”

“Doesn’t everyone.”

“Y/n,” Sam said gently, “You need help.”

“I have a therapist.”

“Sharing a bed with Bucky isn’t going to fix things for the long run.”

“Might do.”

Sam gave you a disapproving look which you pointedly avoided. You knew deep down that he was right but you just couldn’t face talking about what had happened with anyone. You were too afraid, too paranoid, that your secrets would be leaked. That the trust you spent years rebuilding would be broken again in a heartbeat. You just weren’t ready to lose everyone again and if the solution to your problems meant Bucky then you gladly take it.

It was strange sharing a bed with someone after all these years. Bucky usually woke up early, usually after horrific nightmares about becoming the Winter Solider again and losing control. He would spend hours lying in bed, waiting for the sun to rise and the day to start again but now things were different.

Now he had you.

How calm and peaceful you looked when you slept, how your soft breaths made him feel at peace. The way your chest rose and fell and pressed against his. Bucky had been interested in your for a while, how most people avoided you and you only seemed to speak to Sam. How you avoided him when Sam first introduced the two of you until you were forced to work together. He wouldn’t lie, he was slightly jealous of how close you were to Sam even though he knew you relationship was strictly platonic.

Just like yours and his.

That’s the two of you were, colleagues, maybe even friends, cuddle buddies as you teasingly referred to it once. That’s something Bucky noticed, how you were slowly opening up to him. Slowly you once awkward conversations turned into slight teasing and, at least on his part, slightly flirting. Just the odd comment here and there just to see you blush and stumble over your words. Bucky thought it was cute how flustered you got over simple compliments and how you shyly returned them. He enjoyed the warm feeling he got whenever you flirted back even though neither of you were serious about it.

That was it, neither of you were serious about it. Bucky enjoyed your friendship at least that was what he was hoping this is. He liked the idea of you showing him your favourite films or books, showing him your favourite places around your home city. Him teaching you about his original time period, teaching you how to dance as he pulled you close while the two of you were awake. He closed his eyes and smiled as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The two of you just being friends.

“Hey, a new restaurant just opened want to try it?”

“Can’t tonight Sam. I promise Buck that we’d watch Blade Runner tonight.”

“Blade Runner?”

“Yeah, never thought that he’d be a fan of Ridley Scott’s films.”

You held your mobile between your cheek and your shoulder as you put a bottle of wine in the fridge. Saturday’s were film nights between you and Bucky and you always looked forward to them. The nights when it was just the two of you curled up on your sofa. Bucky’s arm over your shoulder, a bowl of popcorn between you and an empty pizza box on the table. It was quickly becoming your favourite night of the week. You could practically hear Sam’s raised eyebrow through the phone and you quickly added,

“But I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

“And since when did you call him Buck?”

This made you pause. You didn’t know when that change happened. It just seemed to develop gradually and seemed to fit.

“And you guys spend most nights together.”

“It helps with the nightmares.” You said quietly

“Really? You sure there isn’t another reason?”

“What are you implying?”

“Are you going out.”

“What! Sam! No! Buck and I are just friends.”

“Hmm.”

Sam didn’t sound convinced and you rubbed your eyes. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face as you could feel yourself blushing. The sound of knocking at the door gave you your escape and you jumped out of your skin when you heard it.

“Sorry Sam,” you said quickly, “Got to go.”

“Don’t think this conversation is over.”

“Ok, whatever, bye.”

You hung up and dashed towards the door. As you opened it and looked up into Bucky’s smiling face you knew the Sam’s words were going to be harder to forget than you initially thought.

You were right, you couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head. They echoed around as Bucky pulled you close, seemingly engrossed in the film. You were just his friend but ow you longed to be more. How you wanted his eyes to light up whenever he saw you. In hindsight this was a stupid idea, sharing a bed with someone, even in a completely non-sexual way, something was bound to happen. Even if it was just missing the warmth of someone next to you while you slept.

You rolled over so you were facing Bucky. His arms were still wrapped around you and it surprised you about how easily it was to fall asleep in his arms, even with his metal arm curled tightly around you. You raised a hand and gently traced it alone his cheekbones and along his face.

Your gaze dropped to his lips as your fingers grazed along them. How you longed to feel them pressed against yours, to have his arms around you during the day and not just to help the both of you sleep at night.

Just then Bucky shifted in his sleep and rolled over. For a sickening moment you wondered if you had accidently woken him up, however, and much to your relief, that wasn’t the case. Bucky rolled onto his back and dragged you with him. You head was resting against his chest and you smiled as you rested against it and heard the steady thump of his heartbeat. You might as well make the most of it while it lasted.

After all, this couldn’t go on forever.

“Morning.”

You looked at Bucky as he entered your kitchen while you poured yourself a cup of tea. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders but you quickly removed yourself from his arms. These touches were becoming less platonic and more romantic especially since your conversation with Sam. You didn’t want to give Bucky the wrong impression or to get your feelings crushed.

“You ok?” he asked, “Did you sleep alright.”

“I slept fine.”

“Ok.” Bucky said slowly

You inhaled deeply as you turned so your back was facing Bucky. This was hard to do but you didn’t want to lead him on. You never meant to develop feelings for Bucky or for him to imagine that there was more to this than was originally planned.

“I think we need to talk.” You said at last

“Nothing ever good happens after those words,” Bucky said, “What’s wrong?”

You looked over your shoulder at him. Bucky was smiling softly but his eyes told a different story. Anxiety was laced inn them and you winced and looked away. You took another sip of your tea and Bucky took a step towards you. He lifted your chin and you looked in his eyes. You pulled your chin free and said,

“We need to stop this.”

“What?”

“This was a stupid idea,” you said, “I never should’ve agreed to it.”

“But it’s helping.”

You walked away as Bucky quickly followed you. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t meant to resist, he was meant to agree and let you go. It was supposed to be easy to let go of him.

“For you maybe.” You said

“What do you?”

“They’re back Bucky. My nightmares are back.

They weren’t, they hadn’t been back for months. You couldn’t stand seeing the pained look on Bucky’s face at your lie and you felt dirty for saying it. He took a step closer but stopped when you backed away.

“Why didn’t you say anything.” He said softly

“Because it was helping you.”

“Right.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“See a therapist I suppose.”

“Good. I, umm, hope it helps.”

“Same.”

“I’ll umm, I should be going.”

“You can stay for breakfast.”

“No,” Bucky said sharply, then winced at his tone, “No,” he repeated softly, “I should leave. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was only when the door clicked softly behind him that you allowed yourself to crumple on the ground, tears pouring down your face.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Drop it Sam.”

“Buck-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Y/n can.”

Sam saw the way Bucky flinched when he said your name. Bucky was currently lying on Sam’s sofa which almost gave Sam a heart attack when he walked into his living room that morning. It was too early to deal with whatever happened between the two of you and Sam needed at least two cups of coffee before dealing with it.

“What happened.” He asked

“Nothing.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve come here after she dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me.”

“So you dumped her?”

“We weren’t dating.”

“But you were sharing a bed.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky put a hand over his eyes, “It was just a way coping with our nightmares, at least,” he sighed, “I thought it was.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out she was still having them. Stopped it this morning.”

“Oh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who was looking slightly guilty. He sat up and glared at his friend.

“Do you know what happened?” he asked

“No.”

“What do you say to her?”

“Nothing I wouldn’t say to you.”

“Which is.”

“You like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“I mean,” Sam sighed, “You want to date her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“So? It’s obvious that you’re in love with her and she’s in love with you.”

“I don’t love her and she certainly doesn’t love me.”

“Then why are you here looking like you’re about to cry yourself to sleep after eating all my ice cream and watching shitty rom coms?”

“This was a bad idea.”

“Look, you can crash on my sofa if it makes you feel better,” said Sam, “But you need to sort this out with y/n. It’s hard enough listening to her when she talks about you.”

“She talks about me?”

The soft smile on Bucky’s face told Sam everything.

“All the fucking time.”

“What does she say?”

“Oh no,” Sam held up his hands, “You should talk to her about that.”

He heard Bucky’s groan as he collapsed back against his sofa. Sam could only hope that the two of you would stop dancing around each other and actually talk for once. He was getting tired of seeing you pine over one another.

“So, how long has it been since your last session with me?”

You shrugged.

“You have my notes Doc. You tell me.”

You therapist hummed in acknowledgement as she wrote a note in her notepad. You closed your eyes and tried to take calming breaths. This was a bad idea.

“So, tell me, how have you been?”

“Surviving.”

“Just that?”

“It’s been a shit couple of years. Give me some credit.”

“And what about your friends. You’ve been keeping in contact with them?”

“I talk to Sam.”

“Just Sam?”

“And Bucky.”

This earned you a raised eyebrow but nothing else.

“Sam introduced us,” you explained, “Couldn’t hang out with Sam without Bucky being there.”

“And are you two close?”

“Sam and I. Yes, he’s one of my closest friends. He was the only one who stuck with me after-“

You cut yourself off as your therapist said,

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t matter. You know what.”

“And what about you and Bucky.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Want to elaborate.”

You were silent for a moment, weighing up your options, before you said,

“Nothing leaves this room right?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure. We’ve been sleeping together.”

“You’ve entered a sexual relationship with the Winter Solider?”

“He’s not the Winter Solider anymore!” you exclaimed, “And no, it’s not sexual. We’ve just been sharing a bed.”

“Why?”

“It helps…”

“Helps with what?”

“My nightmares.”

“Y/n,” she sighed, “What did I tell you about your nightmares. If you’ve been having them you need to tell me.”

“They stopped when I was with him. Bucky helped me and I fucked up by stopping seeing him.”

“Right,” another hurried note, “And is this because you want your relationship with Bucky to become sexual.”

You flushed angrily and stood up. The therapist held your gaze before you said,

“This is over.”

As you marched out of the room you heard her call,

“Same time next week!”

You lasted one week, one week of constant nightmares before you cracked. You grabbed your phone and debated whether or not you should call him before swallowing your pride and calling him.

“Y/n.”

Bucky answered almost immediately. You smiled through your tears as you pulled your legs up to your chest.

“What happened? Are you ok? Talk to me.”

“I killed someone.”

Silence.

“Where are you.”

“In bed,” you said, “My mentor, that’s why I have these nightmares. She was a good person who fucked up. She was more like a friend than a teacher, taking me under her wing when no one else would. She never abandoned me and when she needed me the most I betrayed her.”

You took a shaky breath and continued,

“She betrayed us, SHIELD, she was selling intelligence. She was only doing it was she was being blackmailed, at least that was what she told me, but no one listened to her. Fury told me to bring her in but she wouldn’t listen. Told me that she’d rather die than be remembered as a traitor. There was a fight and I… and I…”

“Go on.”

“I stabbed her. I killed her. I held her bleeding body in my arms as she died. She told me that she’d been lying, that she wasn’t being blackmailed, that she did it for the money. This person that I had been defending with my entire being was a traitor. Afterwards nobody could look me in the eye. I don’t know if it was out of pity or mistrust. Sam was the only one who didn’t treat me any differently. He understood my pain, my conflict, he defended me. I still have nightmares of her, laughing at my foolishness as I choke the life out of her each night for the pain she put me through. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Compared to me, you’re a saint. You’re a good person who was in a difficult situation. You didn’t want to betray your friend. You’ve been hurt and you want revenge on the person who caused that. You’re not a bad person and never think that.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You’re a good person too.”

“I think you’re one too.”

That earned you a chuckled down the phone and you found yourself smiling at the sound.

“Princess,” Bucky said, “You don’t know how wrong you are.”

“I’m a fairly good judge of character.”

“Only when you’re awake. You sound half asleep. Get some rest.”

“What about y-“

“Don’t worry about me. Just try and get some sleep.”

“Anything for you Buck.”

“Good girl.”

“Good night.”

“Night.”

You hadn’t heard from Bucky for several weeks and every day you were debating on whether or not to call him. To hear his voice down the phone, for him to come over, to launch yourself into his arms and tell him how sorry you were. How you regretted ever telling him that you needed to stop this, that you missed him, that you loved him.

For the third night in a row you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t get off to sleep, fears of seeing your dead mentor’s face filling you with dread. You continued with therapy and while it was helping it made you realise how much you missed Bucky. Suddenly a pounding at your door caused you to sit bolt upright. You hardly ever got any visitors especially at two in the morning.

“Y/n, y/n it’s me. Open this door. Please.”

Bucky.

You wasted no time in jumping out of bed and sprinting to your door. You flung it open and Bucky practically fell inside. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight hug. You walked backwards, still in Bucky’s arms, and he kicked the door closed behind him. When you felt your shoulder getting damped your eyes widened and you slowly returned the embrace.

“Bucky,” you said quietly, “What happened.”

“I kill you.”

“Umm.”

“Well, not me, he did. I wasn’t in control but I could feel everything. I was powerless to stop him as he took you away from me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing that it was all a nightmare. That you’re still alive.”

“I am,” you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, “I am. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I am. I never should’ve stopped this but I was afraid.”

“Afraid.”

Bucky looked up and you gave him a sad smile.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same. That I have fucked up because I never expected to get used to this. To being with you and I knew that you didn’t feel the same. That I was just your friend, so I ended it before my feelings developed any further. I thought I was saving myself from pain and I ended up just hurting both of us. I lied Bucky, my nightmares did stop when I was with you but I was afraid of getting hurt.”

You buried your head against Bucky’s chest. His arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“You have no idea,” he said at last, “How painful it has been to wake up in an empty bed. To know that you were out there and possibly in pain. That I was using you to actually fall asleep while you were in pain.”

“I hurt you though. I was selfish.”

“And I was being selfish as well.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes I was.”

“No you weren-“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Bucky had lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours. You froze in his embrace. Of all the times you imagined kissing Bucky you never thought it would be with tears covering your face and on the verge of completely breaking down. When you weren’t returning the kiss Bucky reluctantly broke it. He moved away and opened his mouth but you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back. You felt him smile against your lips and when you broke it gasping for air he rested his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He said quietly

“I think I have some idea,” you said, “Forgive me?”

“Yes.”

You relaxed and smiled up at him.

“Good. Now let’s get back to bed.”

“Princess, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

#fanfiction #mcu #fatws #reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years ago

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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.

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

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otomelavenderhaze · 4 years ago

Text

Last scene with Rayan, ep 9 mclll

This scene is after the conversation with Priya. Rayan get’s mad at Priya about it.

(When I came back home, Rayan was barely moving. He was in the sofa, lost in his own thoughts. My arrival broke abruptly him out of that lethargy. In other circumstances I would have been flattered...)

Rayan: So... Did you talk to Priya? Got to know something else about what is going on...?

Candy: Yes, I could talk to her... and... for sure, this won’t be solved friendly matters... (I did a resume of my conversation with Priya and Renata, and the fact that they’re settle in taking the case to the court).

Unbelievable! What madness... I wanted to see if this had happened to them, if their life ended suddenly because of a slander.

How would they survive if I reported them for witness bribery or what else...

If they saw their own officer door being closed, without even able to take bring a book home...

Rayan: “Accompanied” until the departure of the sanctuary itself by a security guard, as if they were nasty drunks... (dramatic)

Candy: I’m so sorry for you... I understand that you’re furious...

And I can’t understand how you can stay calm! I thought Priya was your friend...

You went talk to her, look her in the eyes... and she barely knows me... (I think that’s why she believe Marina, she barely knows you).

And, even so, no... she is so sure that I’m guilty.

Rayan: Without even giving me a chance to explain my side of the story.

Candy: Err... I think this is for the jury, don’t you think so? She can’t the the judge and the accusation part... (shut up, Candy, not helping).

For sure. But, even so... do you two know one another for how long? For how many years...? (I know, I’m still shocked about it, Renata and Marina a lobotomy on Priya.)

I don’t understand how she could’ve done this, with so much tranquility, in the solemn intention of destroying me. (DRAMATIC, but yeah, she wants to destroy you I guess.)

Rayan: Even if she knows that we love one another!! With a friend like this, who needs a enemy... (Ouch)

Candy (A): Yeah, I’m disappointed as well, not going to hide. I hoped she would be less... headstrong.

Of course, that case is too good for her. In this time of the #MeToo happening, one teacher being accused of harassement...

From the media point of view, this is a bless. And worst of it all...

Is that her devotion is going to end up unserving a legitimate cause (That’s really fancy of the writer put him to say something like this, ironic even). I will have to really fight for it...

And when I have proved my innocence, my case will serve in favor of real harassers.

Rayan: And this all could’ve been avoited if your friend had took some time to check the facts of her client before hand. (He forgot that Marina is the one accusing him and this is all her fault).

Candy: Ah.. that one... she better wait for it (YES, MARINA BETTER WAIT FOR IT, she’s talking about Priya tho).

Rayan: I don’t understand. I did nothing against her...

Candy: For starters... you need to find a lawyer...

I wish I could do more for you... but don’t worry, we will come out of this stronger...

Yes, I mean... if I got out of this one, right? The way things are going, you will get tired of visiting in on jail... (U DRAMA QUEEN, NOBODY IS PUTTING YOU IN JAIL, I’M NOT LETTING THEM).

Rayan: When I think that early in the morning, I had no idea of this... we should complete the correspondence cycles (his class)....

Candy: (I never saw him like this. And there wasn’t much I could say about it.) (tell him that you love him and everything will be all right, that you won’t give up on him no matter what, TELL HIM).

(I took his hand and came sit besides him. He looked me in the eyes. I don’t know what he saw in my stare, but he got up suddenly and hugged me).

This is a unexpected obstacle, but I will get out of this stronger. And our relationship, too.

Rayan: “You’re my oasis in the middle of the desert I’m about to travel through, you know that...?”

Candy: (We kissed lovingly. It’s “bend over backwards” they say, isn’t it?) (U BETTER)

(We sat back on the couch again, and I hugged him for longer, without saying anything.) That’s the ilus part (I don’t know how long we stayed like this. we ended up going to sleep... but we didn't sleep much that night.)

#amor doce #amour sucre #corazon de melon #my candy love #mclll #rayan mclll #mclll rayan #screenshot #screenshots #spoilers #spoiler #episode 9 mclll

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the-dead-skwad · 5 years ago

Text

Independent Part 1 X Tig Trager X Reader

My first Sons Of Anarchy fic. I dunno what it is about Tig but damn he’s hot. I have quite a few ideas for where this is going.

Summary: You catch the eye of Tig, going on a date at a sons party.

Mentions of abuse and some fighting. Smut to follow.

You saw red as you started your bike, you tried to take a breath to calm down but it didn't work. You revved the engine and kicked the stand from under you. Your sister ran out your shop "Y/N! Please don't!" But it was too late. Smoke followed behind you.

Pulling into the parking lot you saw a bunch of men standing around. You knew exactly who owned this garage but that wasn't going to stop you. If you got your ass beat you'd be fine. You could see him talking to someone, he had his back to you which was perfect. Bikes coming in and out of the place made no reason for anyone to turn around as you stopped. You put it back on the stand and took your helmet off leaving it hanging off the handlebars. You pulled your baseball bat from its own little sheath just under the right side of your seat.

"Hey doll you okay?" One of the bikers called over to you. He had messy black hair and piercing blue eyes.

You smiled "Just fine thanks." You swung the bat round in your hand before walking towards the group of men. "HEY! TONY!" Shouting as loud as you could.

He turned to look at you "Oh shi-"

Before he could finish you swung as hard as you could, the bat connected with his cheek shattering it completely. Blood sprayed as he fell to the ground. All the men around you shouted. Before anyone could stop you you hit him again. "You think its okay to hit women?" Everyone stopped as soon as they heard you. You bent down to get closer to his face. "I'm telling you now Meg is coming to live with me. You don't call her, text her, you so much as think about my little sister again and I will kill you." You stood back up and placed your boot on his cheeky pressing his face closer into the dirt "That isn't a threat asshole. That’s a promise." You kicked him as hard as your could in the stomach before turning on your heal back to your bike. You wiped the blood off your bat on a rag hanging on the back of your bike.

"Jesus girl." The same biker looked at Tony spitting blood in the dirt "You got a swing and a half on you."

"He got what was coming to him."

"No doubt." He smiled sweetly at you."I gotta know your name."

"Gotta know or wanna know?" You winked at him "Come by my store one day. Studio next to the barbers and I'd kick that piece of shit outta here if I was you." You revved your engine before speeding out the garage.

He turned to the guy stood by him "Jesus man.. she's wife material."

Back at your studio you flicked through the bookings. Your afternoon was empty and it was your day off tomorrow. Looked like you could close up early for once. You went into the back office, your sister sat across the sofa with an ice pack on her head. "Hey bro, how you feeling?"

"My head hurts but personally I feel better. Thank you again."

"No problem." You sat at one of the desk chairs "We got a free afternoon and all day tomorrow. Wanna do something?"

"Err," She pulled a face "I'm not quite ready to go out yet. I think I'm going to get settled at yours, have a shower and watch a film."

"That’s fine. Sounds like a good plan to be honest." You stood from the chair "I've already cashed up so I'll go and lock the doors and I can take you home."

"Perfect." She stuck her thumbs up at you.

Leaning over the counter you grabbed your keys, as you turned a man stood at your door scared the life out of you. It was the biker "Fuck man." You opened the door "You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry about that gorgeous." He leaned on the door frame.

"You're very eager." raising one of your eyebrows at him.

"There's something about you doll.. Amazing."

"Wow, thanks. The names Y/N"

"Tig." He smiled at you "Look if you aint busy tonight one of our boys is getting out tonight, throwing him a party at the club house. You should come."

"Well..." a smirk crept up your face "I suppose I could swing by."

"Want me to pick you up?"

"And give you my address? I aint that easy Tig. I know where it is."

He smiled again, his eyes were so mesmerizing "Ight, see you at like 9?"

"Sure." You leaned in, closing the already small gap between you and kissed him on the cheek. He walked away with a grin stretched across his face as you closed the door behind you. You went in the back to help your sister carry her stuff.

She frowned at you "Who was that and why you smiling so damn much?"

"Ermm.." You turned to look at her as you picked up one of her bags "I think I have a date."

"You what? The most independent woman I don't ever need a man ever has a date?" The way she spoke made you laugh "Who on earth tricked you into a date?"

"His name is Tig." You turned to say the second part under your breath "He's an SOA."

"Wait!" She tried to stop you but you ran past her to your bike. "Hey!" She ran out the studio after you "Did you just say he was an SOA?"

"Yeahhhh.." You locked the studio door and threw her bag into the back of her truck. "Look I know the rep they have. He seems nice but he probs just want to sleep with me."

"And your okay with that?"

You shrugged "A girl got needs."

"You're gross! I'll see you in like 2 minutes." She started her truck and drove off. You were in such high spirits you really fancied a detour on the bike, but you had to go home and try to find an outfit.

"No!" You threw your self on the bed.

"Stop being dramatic!" Meg was face first in your wardrobe. "You have loads of clothes!"

"I'm going to a party at the god damn sons of anarchy club house. I can't go to nice because all those hot groupies will show me up but I don't want to look like a groupie at the same time."

"Sis they are called prostitutes and you are not a prostitute now shut up and put this on." She threw a dress at you.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, black velvet dress with the sides cut out, Dr marten boots with boot socks rolled down, checkered shirt. Pretty much your entire body was tattooed which went with your outfit perfectly.

"You sure you don't want to borrow some heels?"

"I don't wear heels and I'm going on my bike."

She held her hands up "Fair enough. Well I hope you have a great time and I won't wait up."

"Yeahhh I wouldn't wait." You walked to the door.

You're disgusting!" She threw a pillow at you as you left.

-- Pulling into the parking lot you started to get a little nervous. You were so busy with the studio it had been ages since you went in a date. You pulled up in an empty spot. The music was blasting out already. People everywhere, most of them half naked women.

As you clipped your helmet to the handle bars a voice came from not far behind you. "Hey."

You turned to see Tig "Hi." You smiled at him as he walked over to you.

"You look beautiful." He passed you a bottle.

"Thanks." You took the bottle from his hands and kissed him on the cheek. He walked in with you and most people stared straight at you. You finished your drink straight away. "I'm gonna need something stronger."

"I like your thinking." He grabbed a bottle of Jack from the table and poured you a couple of shots each.

You felt instantly better. He started introducing you to all the other sons. They were all really nice to you. Some a little pervy but Tig was definitely the worst. He hardly actually looked at your face.

The night was going really smoothly. You and Tig got on like a house on fire and all the guys treated you as though you were already one of the family. As you returned from the bathroom you noticed a girl with her tits just hanging out trying to sit on his knee. You could hear what he was saying "Look miss, its real nice you got your boobies out but I have a girl with me tonight."

"Awh but you know I'm way more fun that her."

Marching over you tapped her on the shoulder "Excuse me?" She spun around and got right in your face "He said he aint interested sweetheart."

"And who the fuck are you? No one has ever said no to me."

You looked her up and down "I highly doubt that." Your comment made Juice spit out his drink.

"You his old lady?"

"I don't belong to anyone hunny."

She pushed you at the shoulders "So you aint important."

Tig stood up to stop her but you put your hand out, this was your fight "Touch me again I'll knock you the fuck out."

She did, pushing you back again. With one move you headbutted her in the nose, knocking her to the ground. She grabbed her face and started shouting. "Shut up and get out my face." You sat back down next to Tig. "Stupid bitch." You grabbed hold of the bottle of Jack on the table and took a huge swig. You lit a cig and leaned back in the chair.

"God damn girl!" Juice cheered. "Gemma's gonna love you."

You looked over at Tig who was just staring at you. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He launched at you kissing you deeply. At first it took you back but then you sank into the kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey which just made you even more turned on. Breaking the kiss you sat back in your chair and took another drag of your cig. You looked around the table to realize all the guys were all over the women they were sat with, paying no attention to you guys. You looked into his icy blue eyes, a smirk crept up your face. You could tell on his face he was thinking the exact same as you. You both stood without saying anything to anyone else around the table. He grabbed hold of your hand as he walked past some of the rooms. You stopped for a second to admire the bike on display. He spun you around so you were facing him.

"Am I boring you?"

"Not at all." You leaned into a kiss. The pace picked up fast and before you knew it he had pushed you against a door. Wrapping your legs around him he kissed down your neck.

You were so close to having sex right there in the hall way when Opie rounded the corner. "Fuck sake man... Can't you at least do that in your room."

"Fuck off."Tig's voice was muffled as he was face first in your breasts. He moved one hand off your ass and he reached for the door knob. He pushed you through the door and threw you onto his bed. He stood over you for a second and lick his lips "You ready baby."

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #alex tig trager #tig imagine #tig trager imagine #alex trager imagine

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allie1804-fan · 4 years ago

Text

New Beginnings (Chapter 11)

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

Warnings:mentions of babyloss

For the remaining weeks of the pregnancy Emily and Keanu made a pact to check in every day on how they were each feeling. Their short-hand was to say whether they were at O (Optimistic) or SS (Scared Shitless) or maybe somewhere in between. A day wasn’t to go by when they didn’t check in on their status.

Emily continued to work until her 36th week after which it became too much to sit in a writers’ room all day long. She needed rest for her brain and body. Keanu was still training but he’d cut down a little so he had more free time to spend with Emily as well as run her to appointments and oversee the decorating work to transform one of the guestrooms to a nursery.

The day after the session with the counsellor he’d hired a van and collected the crib and other equipment from his mother’s house determined to stop thinking of everything he did as a potential jinx.

Midwife appointments were weekly from week 34 – that was a little more than the norm but they both needed that reassurance as the baby’s movements got less with time – quite a normal pattern but not easy to deal with in their situation.

At the childbirth classes, Keanu was visibly more relaxed as well which helped Emily feel she could join in with conversations rather then hover on the edges to protect him. At one session the leader asked the parents to share their fears. Emily could sense Keanu visibly tensing and she caught his eye, subtly shaking her head and he nodded his agreement knowing exactly what she meant. Their main fear was the same and they had no desire to freak the hell out of everyone else there. They could just agree with someone else’s comments.

As they worked round the room, the leader asked Claire and Aiden, a couple Emily had liked from the beginning but not really talked to much, how they were feeling.

“well I really don’t want to bring everyone down”, Aiden said “but our biggest fear is that our baby dies, because our first was stillborn”

There was a sharp intake of breath from some and a sigh of relief from Keanu and Emily!

When it came to them, Keanu was able to say “We’re on the same page as Claire and Aiden and I think they’re really brave to share it in a room like this. I lost my daughter to stillbirth 21 years ago and we had an ectopic pregnancy last year, so yeah, that’s our biggest fear too. Rationally I’m confident it won’t happen but that doesn’t entirely stop the fear”

He looked at Emily who was kind of thunder-stuck to hear him share so openly with a group of strangers. He was so private normally but she knew speaking its name was a big part of helping him conquer the fear. She squeezed his hand and whispered ‘I’m so proud of you’ in his ear.

When the session was over, everyone stood chatting and Keanu went over to Claire and Aiden

“Listen, we were planning on grabbing a bite to eat after, do you fancy joining us? I know a place where they do really good noodles”

Aiden burst out laughing.

“’Really good noodles’ like in the Matrix?” he asked making air quotes.

Keanu chuckled, only then realising what he’d just said.

“Oh yeah sure - you remember that line?”

“Man every time I have noodles I think of it - am I too much of a Matrix nerd to have dinner with you two?”

“Nah, no man, it’s cool - and thanks”

Emily caught Claire’s eye and rolled her eyes skywards, smiling broadly at Aiden geeking out with Neo!

They headed over to the Jinya Ramen bar and had a good time getting to know each other a little better. Keanu repeated how brave he thought Aiden had been to speak up.

“I mean I was sitting there thinking “death man, death is my fear but that’s gonna fuckin freak them all out so I’ll just say some generic crap and then you were like ‘bam’

Aiden laughed.

“the things is, it really is my only worry and I thought, you know what, shit happens and people are scared of it so let’s just cut the crap and stop pretending!”

“Fair enough” Keanu agreed

“But you were brave too, being who you are, to just open up like that”

Keanu took a gulp of his beer

“Yes I don’t quite know what got into me, that was err, most unprecedented!”

They all burst out laughing then, recognising the Bill and Ted quote.

“Yes way” Aiden said clinking his beer to Keanu’s who grinned back thinking to himself “I like this guy”. Emily looked on, secretly thinking ‘bromance!’

By week 37, they were basically at the clock watching stage. Everything was ready and Emily spent most of her time reading, watching TV or sleeping. If Keanu was home when she took a nap, he’d join her and spend the time stroking the bump or leaning his head against it talking softly to the little one who’d usually make his or her presence known with a little shove of one if its limbs. Sometimes they’d kiss and pleasure each other though Emily was struggling to move easily so everything was tender and low key rather than intense. Neither of them really minded, their focus was all on meeting their child in just a few weeks.

Chloe had organised a Baby Shower, the hospital bag was packed and ready, the nursery was waiting stocked with nappies and neutral coloured baby-grows and a sort of birth plan was ready but they both knew they would have to go with the flow on that one.

“control what you can, like a playlist and speaker, your snacks, what t shirt you’ re going to wear and have an idea of your other intentions like pain relief and so on but just go with the flow on the day” was Chloe’s wise advice.

Through weeks 38 and 39, Emily had lots of false alarms when the Braxton Hicks contractions felt like they were the real thing beginning but still nothing materialised. They were well into week 40 when things actually got started.

It was mid morning on a Wednesday and while Keanu had confirmed that the contractions were in fact regular and he’d let the hospital know, they wouldn’t have to go in until 1 minute long contractions had been coming every 5 minutes for at least an 1 hour. For now it was every 10 minutes but varying in length and intensity. Emily chose the living room to either lie down or pace or sit on a birthing ball or hang onto Keanu’s broad shoulders to help breathe through the pain. At its worst, it felt like a really bad period pain or indigestion for now so mostly she could cope on her own and that’s kind of how she preferred it. She felt a bit like an animal, wanting to go into a quiet corner and have her baby out of sight of everyone!

By lunchtime, the pains were definitely getting more intense but still only coming every 8 minutes. Keanu made them a sandwich then at around 2 she got her maternity swimming costume on and spent an hour floating in the pool. The sensation was soothing - they were hoping it would still be possible to use a birthing pool at the birthing centre but it wasn’t guaranteed. It would depend on her condition and if they were all in use by other mothers. Even Keanu’s money couldn’t guarantee a pool unless they had done it at home and neither of them had been of a mind to do that - they wanted every medical expert right on hand.

As evening was falling, the contractions actually seemed a little milder and were still only at 8 minute intervals so they ordered pizza take out. Later on Emily had a bath and to her annoyance, things were still no further on come bedtime so they settled in for the night wondering if she would sleep at all.

4am Thursday morning

Emily woke with a start as a strong contraction tightened her stomach and made her groan with pain. Keanu sat up straight away – he’d been sleeping but only very lightly at her side all night and so was quickly fully awake.

“was that a big one?”

Emily nodded but didn’t speak since she was managing the pain by slowly breathing through it, kneeling up slightly and grabbing onto the headboard of the bed.

She relaxed when it was over thinking there’d be a few minutes wait for the next one but it seemed to hit very quickly and she shot Keanu a nervous look.

Breathlessly she asked Keanu to get his phone to check the gap.

“Fuck that was just 4 minutes he said, wide eyed as the next one came “ we gotta go”

Fortunately, she hadn’t got into nightwear, so they just needed to slip on some shoes, grab the bag, get in the car and go. Keanu was still a little freaked out that they had missed the 5 minute gap point but he knew in his rational mind that 4 minutes was what most advice said and they’d simply gone with 5 minutes to be super cautious! And it was still early and pre rush hour so there wouldn’t be any traffic.

As they set off and Emily gripped onto the door handle as another contraction hit, she joked

“just don’t drive like John Wick or Jack Traven OK!”

“No mam” he grinned glad of her lightening the mood just a little.

The empty streets and soft grey light across the city helped to calm them both down and within half an hour they were pulling into the birthing centre car-park.

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

#keanu #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #having a baby

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mrs-berry · 6 years ago

Text

Puns

Part 10 of Avril Amour (Adrinette April 2019)

By mrs_berry

@adrinetteapril

Click here to read on AO3!

"W-what? Why me?" Marinette asked, dumbfounded by Adrien's out-of-the-blue request.

"I asked Nino if he knew anyone who seemed to dislike puns," Adrien began to explain. Shyly, he rubbed the back of his neck and continued, "And, without any hesitation, his immediate answer was your name."

"I-I see," Marinette blinked, still utterly confused about the whole situation. "But why exactly do you want to get me to, um, laugh at a pun of yours?" She tilted her head, as if the answer would come to her if she looked at him from a slightly different angle.

"I have a... friend who doesn't appreciate my puns," he replied with a wry grin, remembering all the eye rolls and groans Ladybug had given him. He had gotten a smirk out of her on the rare occasion, but never a genuine laugh. But he was determined to do so. Even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of his classmate and friend, Marinette.

"Oh. Well, they sound a bit like me," Marinette gave a small giggle. Tikki laughed in despair internally, thinking she is you. Plagg was having similar thoughts.

"So... would you be up for it?" Adrien asked with a hopeful puppy-eyed expression on his face.

Was it even possible to say no to that face? It definitely wasn't for Marinette.

"Sure," Marinette agreed with a soft smile. She was almost positive she would regret it as she already dealt with Chat's puns on a regular basis, but at the same time, she was excited to spend any extra time with Adrien if it meant she could become closer to him.

Even if it was just as friends.

He was just so pleasant to be around. Of course she wanted more, but she had to remind herself that any time spent with him was better than none at all.

Adrien did a cute little fist pump in the air at her acceptance. "Thanks, Marinette! I'll be starting tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

"Sounds good, A-Adrien," Marinette murmured with hearts in her eyes.

They said their goodbyes and Marinette prepared herself mentally that night for the onslaught of painful puns that were sure to be thrown at her the next day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Marinette," Adrien greeted. Marinette smiled and awkwardly waved in reply, words of greeting failing to fall from her lips so early in the morning.

Then, she looked around and noticed Alya and Nino were not anywhere in the classroom, despite class starting in about a minute.

As if sensing her thoughts, Adrien spoke up, "Nino is sick today and apparently he got Alya sick, too. So it'll be just you and me today," he explained, giving Marinette a friendly smile.

"Oh. Okay," Marinette replied, turning slightly red from the thought of her (somewhat) alone time with her crush.

Then, Adrien randomly chuckled, which shook Marinette from her thoughts and captured her full attention.

"The past, the present, and the future walked into a bar."

Marinette quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

"It was tense," he concluded with a proud smile.

Oh. Right. That.

Marinette let out a polite—but forced—giggle, not really finding the joke funny.

"Hmm, I guess it wasn't that great," Adrien pouted.

"It was g-good," Marinette tried to reassure him. "But, I've heard that one before so it's, um, nothing really special. I don't think your friend will be impressed. S-sorry!"

"Don't apologize, I need your honesty," he replied, his pout morphing into a toothy grin. "Thanks, Marinette. I'll keep 'em coming."

"Great!" Marinette squeaked, happy to be receiving her crush's attention. Even if the subject was not exactly her favourite.

Class began and Adrien returned his focus to the teacher.

After the lesson, when the students were given time to practice what they had just learned, Adrien took the opportunity to turn around and try out his next pun.

"How did the picture end up in jail?" He paused for dramatic effect. "It was framed!"

Marinette laughed robotically, sounding less authentic than the first time. "That's not t-terrible." She grimaced when she realized that wasn't exactly a compliment. "I mean, err, it was somewhat okay. Pretty okay. Good, even."

Adrien chuckled at her attempt to be polite, but it wasn't what he wanted. "Thanks, Marinette. I know you're trying to be nice. But, can I ask you a favour?"

"O-of course! Anything for you!" she blurted, then corrected herself to avoid sounding like she liked him a lot more than a friend (which she did, but didn't want him to know), "I-I mean, anything for a friend..."

"Thanks!" He beamed, then turned more serious, but still friendly. "Can you please react with how you really feel? And don't hold back, please."

Marinette hesitated. "A-are you sure? I-I might end up being a bit, uh, savage..." she shyly admitted with a blush.

"That's perfect. Do you worst," Adrien shot back with a wink.

Marinette gave a sheepish smile and nod. She would probably still hold back. She couldn't bear the thought of hurting the feelings of such a pure and kind boy.

She tried to return her thoughts to the work in front of her, with little success.

Adrien cleared his throat and piped up, "Coffee has a rough time at our house. It gets mugged every morning."

Marinette gave a tight smile and made no comment.

Adrien pursed his lips, giving up on that one as well.

"My parents said they won't let me drink coffee anymore... or else they'll ground me." Adrien tried again.

Marinette paused and looked up at him with no trace of amusement on her face, just a questioning look. "Do you even drink coffee?"

"... No?" he admitted, but it also sounded more like a question.

"That makes that joke even less effective... n-no offense," Marinette muttered, but gave him a small smile to show she meant no harm.

"Good to know," he noted, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

He turned to her again, "Why didn't the cat go to the vet?" Adrien was excited by this one, trying his best to suppress his own laughter. "Because he was feline fine!"

Marinette groaned, being directly reminded of her partner, Chat.

But then she remembered that she was listening to Adrien, not Chat, and she was quick to apologize.

Adrien had to reassure her, again, that he wanted her to react with how she really felt and not to feel bad about it. She reluctantly agreed once again.

A few moments of silence passed.

"How do you make a good egg-roll?" Marinette shrugged in response to his question. "You push it down a hill!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "The only thing rolling here is my eyes..." she quipped, then widened her eyes at her own pun.

"Good one, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed in delight, chuckling in pure amusement.

She blushed again. She had not intended to say that out loud. Oops.

Feeling a rush from her engagement, Adrien continued, "Do you know why I started sleeping in a fireplace?" To humour him, Marinette shook her head. "It allows me to sleep like a log."

She hesitated for a second, then decided to go for it. "Maybe you should start a log of bad puns." Marinette didn't entirely want to admit it, but she was really starting to enjoy their pun battle.

Adrien laughed again, clearly enjoying himself as well.

"I have a few jokes about unemployed people," he paused and sighed in mock-disappointment. "But none of them work."

Marinette snorted. "Neither do your jokes."

Adrien burst into laughter. He had no idea Marinette was so good with wordplay! He loved it.

After his laughter subsided, he kept going, "Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? It's okay, the kid woke up."

"Please... wake me up from this nightmare," Marinette said, shaking her head in mock-disgust.

"Okay, okay. But did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of pop? He was lucky it was a soft drink!"

"Just... no." Marinette didn't even bother giving a clever response for that one. She didn't want to be too savage.

"Whenever I undress in the bathroom, my shower gets turned on," Adrien said with a rather flirty smirk.

Which sent Marinette's thoughts to very inappropriate places, causing her heartbeat to accelerate and sending blood rushing to her head.

When Adrien noticed her reaction was not what he had expected, he realized he may have crossed a line. "Sorry," he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed as well.

They awkwardly sat in silence, before Marinette cleared her throat. "Adrien. If you want to make your friend laugh, maybe think up one that will be meaningful to them and that they probably haven't heard before. Like, what is their favourite book or movie?"

Adrien frowned, "I'm not sure... but that's a good idea."

"Can you think of a topic or something that is unique about them?"

Adrien closed his eyes in thought for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, he hesitantly stated, "She likes bugs. Her favourite type is a ladybug."

Marinette raised her brows in shock. So, he was coming up with a joke for a girl? Marinette couldn't quite quell the jealousy that bloomed in her chest.

"I-I see," she said then fell silent. She scolded herself for being distracted by the green bug of envy.

Ugh, she was mad at herself for even thinking of that pun.

Shaking her head and trying to clear her mind, she searched the corners of her minds for bug puns.

"Okay. I've got one that I think is pretty funny. As funny as a pun can get, that is. Ready?"

Adrien nodded and looked at her as though he was hanging onto her every word for dear life.

"What kind of bug can't go into the men's washroom?" She paused, giving him a pretty little smirk. "A ladybug."

Adrien blinked, then found himself crying with laughter. It was so perfect, he adored it. He adored Marinette; she was simply amazing.

"T-thanks, Marinette," he said between chuckles. "I think I'll go with that one."

And that brought the painfully punny morning class to a close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night on patrol, Chat was waiting for his partner.

He couldn't wipe the giant smile off his face. He was simply too excited to share his latest joke with his best friend.

A moment later, Ladybug arrived.

"Hey, Chaton. Ready for another night of patrol?" Ladybug greeted.

"You know it, LB!" he winked, then quickly added, "But I have a question for you before we go."

"Okay. What is it?" she asked patiently.

"What type of bug can't go into the men's washroom?"

Ladybug's jaw dropped at the question and the huge, dorky, excited grin on Chat's face. No...

Chat continued, assuming she was just confused. He couldn't wait for her inevitable laughter. Doing his best to hold in his laughter, he said, "A ladybug."

Silence. Not even a groan of disgust.

Ladybug turned ghostly pale and promptly passed out.

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afternoonteawithme · 5 years ago

Text

Sunday Morning in Paris

(read it on AO3)

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Pairing: Victor x Yuuri

Rating: General

The VIP lounge was almost empty at this early hour of a Saturday morning, containing only one business-suited man in a back corner, sleep mask over his eyes as he snored softly, and one sleepy attendant perched on his stool behind a slate grey counter.

Idly flipping the pages of the day’s paper, Minami didn’t bother to hold back his jaw-cracking yawns as he waited for the last hour of his shift to be over. It had been a slow night, and he was having more trouble than usual staying awake. Even the newest reports on the big jewelry heist that had occurred earlier that week weren’t enough to keep him from nodding off, but since he’d spent most of the last three nights glued to the news on the TV there wasn’t much left he didn’t already know.

The almost frigid air that swept through the room did help keep him awake, at least, the silent AC units blocking out the heat that was already radiating off the tarmac runways outside the building.

The lounge was scrupulously clean, done in shades of sedate grey and blue and only saved from being irredeemably impersonal by the bright paintings hung here and there, each lit by discreet spotlights. One curved wall was all darkly tinted glass, just clear enough that anyone sitting on one of the butter-soft leather sofas could watch the busy planes while also being certain that no one outside could see in.

Above the door, an LED panel blinked as it shuffled through the lists of flights in and out for the day, one smaller screen beside it showing the weather – clear and hot. The other was tuned to the news Minami had been watching until he’d had to turn off the volume when the single occupant of the lounge had clearly indicated he wanted to sleep.

When the black glass of the double doors whooshed open, he jerked to his feet, almost stumbling as his body moved before he’d fully woken up. He stuffed the paper into his back pocket to free his hands as he rushed around the counter and across the room to greet his new guest.

He’d already jammed a smile on his face, but it broadened into a wide, genuine grin when he realized who’d walked in. “Mr. Nikiforov! Good to see you again.”

“Hello Minami.” Perfectly shaped lips curved in a smile, and Minami’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

As the cooly beautiful man stepped further into the room, letting the doors close behind him, Minami knew the other attendants were going to be insane with envy when they realized they’d missed Victor Nikiforov, and he fully intended to torture them all with the specifics.

He liked today’s suit, perfectly fitted and the deepest of grays, with a silver tie a few shades darker than the boxy metal briefcase Victor held at his side.

“Your usual seat is free, sir, if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” With another smile, Victor walked towards the cluster of seats the attendants kept free for their favorite guests. Private, hidden by a bend in the wall and the attendant’s counter, the seats weren’t immediately visible to people walking into the room.

“Shall I get you some coffee?”

“Is the coffee as terri- ah. I mean, is the coffee as…interesting as the last time I came through?”

Minami blinked. “It’s the same, I think? I made it fresh an hour or so ago.”

“Ah.” Victor sighed. “That’s alright. I’ll be fine without.” He set his case on a sofa, and settled down to sit beside it.

“I can hold your luggage at the counter for you, if you’d like?”

“Oh, no.” Victor tapped one long finger on the handle of the case. “It stays with me. But thank you.” He smiled up at Minami to soften his words, and then blinked when the rolled up paper in Minami’s back pocket finally let loose and fell to the ground.

Minami saw Victor frown down at it, and then, with surprising speed, bend down to pick it up.

As the man closely studied the paper, Minami angled his head so he could better see what had caught the man’s attention so intently.

“Oh that. They think they got a shot of that guy, finally. You know, that thief that’s been stealing fancy stuff all over the planet?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“He hit a place here in town a few days ago, got a whole bunch of diamonds and stuff. You have to have heard of him, what with all the travelling you do?”

Victor smoothed a hand across the paper, easing out the wrinkles in the photo that filled half the page. It was blurry, black and white. You couldn’t see much, just the slight profile of a man with pale hair, half turned away as he walked away from the camera.

It wasn’t a good photo. Minami had already spent hours poring over it.

“Yes. I’ve heard of him.”

Minami craned his neck further, almost leaning over his guest now. “I can’t figure it out, but I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

Victor looked up at him, clearly startled. “You have?”

Minami realized he was too close. He back off as he shrugged. “Something about him seems familiar. But I can’t place it.” He blinked as he studied Victor. “You, know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that looks like you, a little bit, with that hair.”

Startlement turned into amusement, but before Victor could respond to Minami’s comment, his phone rang. With a smile, he excused himself to answer.

Minami backed away – you at least pretended you weren’t listening in on guest phone calls, even if you were. As he walked back in the direction of his counter, he couldn’t help but hear the first part of the conversation.

“Of course, Yakov. I picked them up as planned.” Victor paused, and then laughed lightly, a soft and velvety sound that Minami always liked, and Minami’s footsteps slowed so he could keep listening. “Someone must have tattled on me. Yes, there was some trouble, it’s fine. I’ll deliver these and then head to Switzerland for the next appointment.”

Minami didn’t hear any more of the conversation, and sat at his counter, chin resting on his hand as he stared at the TV, deep in thought.

When he heard Victor walking towards him a half hour or so later, he was ready.

“Sir?”

“Victor is fine, Minami.”

“Oh.” Minami flushed, and had to take a second to track down his lost train of thought. “Um. Vic- Victor. Didn’t you say last time you came through you’d just been to Venice?”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“And the time before that, hadn’t you just been in Sydney?”

“Possibly. I do a lot of travelling. It’s hard to keep track.”

Excited, Minami leaned forward on the counter, dropping his voice to something like a loud whisper. “You wouldn’t happen to be that thief, would you?”

Walking through the still mostly empty airport, Victor couldn’t help but laugh a little, to himself. The eternally eager Minami had looked so crushed when he’d told him he wasn’t the infamous thief, as if he’d just been given the worst news in the world. But then, what in the world made him think any thief worth his salt would have admitted it as simply as that, even if it were true?

He'd looked so devastated that Victor had given in and asked for a cup of the nightmare stuff Minami called coffee, just to distract him. It had worked, but the cost had been high – Victor had only forced himself to take one sip before escaping the lounge, but the bitter texture now coated his tongue.

Unfortunately, it was far too early for any of the restaurants or cafés to have opened yet, so he’d have to wait until he got on the plane to rinse the taste out of his mouth.

He passed the last of the closed and barred shops, and since he still had a good hour before his gate opened, he turned back to walk the way he’d come, weaving his way through the trickle of early morning passengers and shop employees arriving for the day.

Occasionally, someone walking by would smile at him, wave, and he’d smile and nod back. Maybe they recognized him. He’d certainly spent enough time in airports – this one, and others spread all over the world – that he likely had spoken to a great many of these people. Some of them might even consider him a friend, or at least an acquaintance.

But right now, all he could think was that he hoped none of them tried to talk to him.

And he liked talking to people, usually. What in the world was wrong with him, lately? He loved his job, and he’d always enjoyed the way it brought him into contact with a great many people.

Maybe it was time to find a new line of work.

With a sigh, he adjusted the loop around his wrist that attached him to his briefcase, and turned away from the strip of shops to head up the ramped hallway leading to his gate.

As he glanced down at the watch on his wrist to check the time, he heard a hesitant voice behind him.

“Err…excuse me?”

Victor turned at the soft voice, and found a man in an ill-fitting black suit, with a terrible tie, and the warmest brown eyes Victor had ever seen.

He was certain he’d never spoken to him before, but there was something about the man’s face that was oddly familiar to Victor. As if he’d seen him many, many times before, though he’d never realized it.

Victor blinked, realizing his eyes had fixed onto the man’s lips, and that those lips had been moving as he’d said something Victor had been too distracted to hear. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” For some strange reason, he felt the faint heat of a blush on his cheeks.

The gentle, hesitant expression on the man’s face faded, and something sharper, hotter, leaped into his eyes. He took a half step forward, gripped the knot of the tie around Victor’s neck, and yanked it towards him.

Victor was too stunned to react as he felt himself being tugged toward the other man. An instant later, warm lips closed over his, and the man let go of his tie to wrap an arm around Victor’s neck. Their tongues met, and Victor barely noticed the way his own hands dropped to hold onto the other man’s waist. A small corner of his mind noted that the man tasted of coffee. Good coffee.

Dimly, he heard voices nearby as more people streamed around them, but it was hard to make it out over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Slowly, he came back to himself. Though his head was spinning, he raised one hand between them and lightly pressed against the other man’s chest.

Even as the man let himself be pushed away, Victor felt the thumping of a heartbeat beneath his palm, as fast and strong as his own.

When they finally stood a foot apart from each other, they were both breathing deeply. Victor stared into the face inches away from his, a little stunned, and happy to see that the brown eyes looked as dazed as he felt.

He was disappointed a moment later when those eyes sharpened again, but didn’t have time to react before the man spoke.

“Thank you.” The smile that spread over the man’s face was a little rueful, a little wicked. “That was far better than I’ve been imagining.”

Then with a nod, he turned, and seemed to disappear into the slowly growing crowd.

It was almost thirty seconds after the man walked away before Victor realized his briefcase was gone.

Airport security almost refused to believe him, despite the business card he’d found in his pocket after the man had walked away, identical to the ones that had been left in safes and empty display cases across the planet – it wasn’t until they pulled up the security footage and saw how the man stepped out from the gate of an arriving airplane, before the plane had actually started unloading, and how he seemed to disappear from the footage shortly after he walked away from Victor with Victor’s briefcase in his hands that they started to listen.

Somehow, the man must have known where all the blind spots were, because he’d stopped Victor directly in the middle of one. There wasn’t a single shot that showed anything but the back or side of his head, from beginning to end.

“Do you need me to describe his face?” Victor asked, oddly reluctant. But it wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten an exceptionally good up-close view of it.

“No, no, he alters his appearance so much. We’ve had dozens of conflicting descriptions, and we know he wears wigs.” The policeman that the security guards had finally called in sighed deeply. The dark rings under his eyes looked deep enough to hold a bucket of coffee, and the air of bafflement and frustration that hung over his shoulders made Victor feel a little badly for him. “We only released that photo to the media to see how he’d react, our profiler thought it might annoy him enough to make him act rashly.”

“Fine, then I better at least call my office and have them let the client know I won’t be bringing the goods over.”

“Alright. I’ll get you a report for your insurance company. What was the value of the jewelry in the case?”

Victor blinked. “There was no jewelry.”

“What, was it gemstones then?”

“No.” Victor smiled. “Flowers. I’m a florist.”

Jaw dropping, the policeman gaped at Victor. “Flowers? He stole a case of flowers?”

“Rare flowers, carefully treated to last as long as necessary. The case is temperature and humidity controlled.”

The tired policeman pulled himself enough together to squint suspiciously at Victor. “You pay for that suit and a first class seat on a florist’s salary?”

“I’m a very good florist.”

“You don’t look like a florist.”

“I assure you I do, as that is what I am.” Victor pulled out his wallet, took out one of his own business cards and handed it over.

Blinking down at the silver edged card in his hand, the policeman scratched at his head. “Well, alright. If your…flowers turn up, we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”

He had two hours to kill before the new flight Yakov had scheduled for him. The airport was busier now, and though it was easier to slip through the crowds of people without his briefcase, he felt odd without it.

Maybe it was time for a vacation. Yakov wouldn’t like it. Victor’s eyes gleamed as wondered if he could trick Yakov into coming, maybe bring Lillia with him. That might be entertaining enough to fight back whatever this dissatisfaction was that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He stepped slightly aside to avoid a small child running by, and bumped someone with his shoulder. He turned back to apologize, but only saw the back of a head as a brown-haired man pushed through the crowd in the opposite direction.

He almost turned away, back towards his gate, but some impulse made him reach into his pocket. Sure enough, there was another card there, not the same one he’d handed to the police.

Victor looked down. It was a simple white card, with a single, neatly printed sentence.

If you want your flowers back, meet me for coffee at that café you like so much, tomorrow morning.

That café, what café?

Victor flipped the card over.

The one with the blue roses on the walls. - Y

Eyes widening. Victor stared at the card. Then his head shot up, and he studied the departure board over his head. He flipped out his phone. “Yakov, I need to change my flight. I’m going to Paris.”

As he listened to Yakov squawk in his ear, a grin slowly spread over his face.

Life was about to get a lot more interesting.

#victuuri #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #a late birthday present :)#i had this one half written for months and months and I just couldn't seem to get past the halfway mark #but i've been working on it and today #here it is!

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osmw1 · 5 years ago

Text

Crowbar Nurse Chapter 12 — The Lamer the Technique, The Stronger the Kiryū

My consciousness resurfaced from the depths of a deep dreamless slumber, similar to the feeling of waking from anesthesia… or so I’ve been told by my patients.

My tongue squirmed, trying to rehydrate the dryness in my mouth. I surveyed my surroundings while still lying down… I knew where I was.

Uptown — the second stage of the Emergency Partition Plan and lovingly nicknamed Safehouse by fans of the game.

We managed to make our way here at last…

A sigh of relief trickled from my lips was followed by another deep lungful in, but the dry air cut my trachea as if I were breathing in razor blades.

Glimpses of the bare, windowless room peeked through the impenetrable red iron door. Where I had lain wasn’t a bed, but something closer to a bench you’d find in the waiting area of a hospital. The air in here was musty, evident that this room has long since seen visitors. And it was also dry because the air conditioning units lack a humidification feature?

Though glad as I was to make it here safe and sound, equal amounts of bitterness welled up in me, cursing the reality of the situation: This was no dream.

I’m not sure how we got in. Normally, you’d need to find a hidden NPC or the key in a secret room… well, I suppose I should count my blessings.

Lying here all day wouldn’t do us any favors. I sat up while taking another large breath.

“Finally awake, I see. It’s a shame that you are not dead.” “… Oh, it’s you, Elizabeth.”

Some distance away, the voice emanated from an office chair that looked to be built by the lowest bidder. The sour look on her face indicated the fruit she was munching on might have been as well.

“You fainted as soon as things had settled down. Kiryū turned pale as a ghost, fearing that he had pushed you too hard.” “Oh, jeez… Sorry about that. That was poor timing though, seeing things haven’t settled down. Not until we reach the safehouse, at least.” “We were fine. Sure, we might have taken a few wrong turns, but we managed to stumble our way here alright. It was nothing we couldn’t handle on our own… so he said. You have been running on fumes and working long hours, haven’t you? Adrenaline only gets you so far before your body clocks out.”

With her hand clutching her temple, Elizabeth looked just as poorly. More jarring was how tied around her ankles was a makeshift rope fashioned from bedsheets.

“Speaking of which, where is Kiryū anyway?” “Him? He took two NPC’s with him to the supermarket in search for more food. … look at this. All this just to make sure I wouldn’t kill you.” “Hmm? What about it?” “These sheets are all part of Kiryū’s contraption. He tied my ankles to the lever that opens the door so that if I were to force my way towards you, the zombies would all rush in.” “Wow.” “He even went around confiscating any objects large enough to be a weapon and tucked it underneath the bed you’re sleeping on.

She looked helpless all tied up like that. … Kiryū sure is cautious. But that makes it even weirder for someone so cautious to run out on his own, leaving behind me and Elizabeth, a potential threat. I guess I should first check the place where a rifle should be… Wait, what?! There’s only a pistol and a shotgun here!

“… I wonder if he’d be alright with just two NPC’s…”

I mumbled as I sat up from the leather bench. Why did he go and do that? I mean, you can have up to five soldiers in your—err, survivors following you at the same time.

“He said he was going to recruit the NPC’s that he left behind at the start of the game. I suppose he is also going to take the chance to level up as well.” “Why is he in such a… Oh, maybe he’s worried about the seven-day limit.” “What limit?” “So, after seven days pass in this game, an endless amount of zombies will come and overrun you and that means game over.” “How awful.” “I know, right? Such a shame, especially because it’s such a fun game.”

I awkwardly chuckled before taking a sip of water from a plastic bottle underneath the bench, instantly dissolving the parchedness from before.

“… Sorry that we left you just lying there.”

Her words slowly stumbled out,

“That Kiryū really wanted to help, but besides you, none of us knew how to use syringes. Stuffing your mouth with herbs couldn’t wake you up either.” “Yes, I suppose Medicinal Herbs don’t help with fainting.” “Right…”

Elizabeth’s response marked the end of the topic. I looked towards her to see the remainder of half-eaten fruit resting on her lap and her lips sucked in. She must have been fraught, nervous.

Shoot. How do I break this awkward silence…?

My nursing training can come into play here. Hark, thee! … Umm, I learned this technique called assertive communication in class… What was the trick to it again?

“… The air in here sure is dry.”

Panic beset me and the words that came out were nothing but unengaging small talk.

“Yes… I suppose powering down the air conditioning would help.”

Elizabeth followed up with the pointless topic I offered, perhaps similarly hoping to cast away the awkwardness.

“I already tried doing so with the controls on the wall but to no avail. Perhaps the cooling system is centrally controlled. The air conditioning in the lecture halls at my university were just as annoying too.” “Oh, maybe, yeah… Speaking of which, what did you study in university?” “If we know too much of each other, it would just be awkward if either of us dies. … I mean, if you really want to know, I suppose I do not mind telling you that I am licensed for early childhood education, elementary school education, and childcare—where I currently work.” “Wow! That must’ve been a lot of hard work.” “It certainly was… and I was frequently rewarded with unlawful overtime. Hard work sure pays off.”

She turned her gaze upwards and unto the ceiling; I couldn’t help but to sigh too.

“It’s tough before and after graduating, hey? I guess I’m in the same boat as you. Being thrown into this world sure is scary, but also, being torn away from my super overworked lifestyle isn’t the worst thing either. I mean, it’d be bad if we were trapped here forever though.”

At the very least, I was able to share a laugh in agreement with Elizabeth.

“I wholly understand you. There really isn’t too much you can do with your own powers to escape the confines of a terrible job. Perhaps this world was created as… something like respite care. Less than likely though…” “Hey, Elizabeth?”

Though interrupting the girl deep in thought, I managed to find resolve and approached Elizabeth.

“I’m wondering if you could tell me a little about what you know about this world.” “…” “I don’t see myself surviving if we continue on like this. More importantly, though, someone important to you died so that you could return to the real world, am I right…?” “What makes you think so?”

Her voice strained and wavered.

“Gamer sense,” I said with a shrug and a smile, and continued.

“I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but that’s probably the reason why that a know-it-all like you is hurting. But even then, you’ve experienced something very painful, haven’t you?” “You’re…”

Her voice trailed off and the safehouse sunk back to a silence. Not an awkward like before, but a silence for scrambling thoughts.

“… it isn’t as if I know more than the very basics.”

There was another good length of time before Elizabeth expanded on her thoughts.

“There’s seemingly an administrator in this game.” “An administrator?” “At the very least, that is what they called themselves. Perhaps it would be more prudent label them as the creator of this world. Someone or something with a twisted sense of purpose. We stand no chance of overcoming that being for as long as we share the same world.”

An overpowered being.

She continues,

“I don’t know of what it wants. What I do know is that all the people who get summoned here are always exhausted and one of them are designated as the ‘core’.” “What happens if you get picked to be core?” “Nothing comes from it… No, actually, they get to bring an electronic device, like a phone or a laptop. With it, you can check who is in which game and to travel between game worlds. You know that already though.” “Right, I remember.” “The games available are… Well, last time, they were all games which the core had played lots. It may be the same this time around. We also never have successfully charged the device last time, so use your phone with great caution.” “Argh… I’ll try my best not to check my phone. Let me actually just turn it off…” “A sage idea.”

Elizabeth concurred with a nod.

“Till this day I have no idea what it… the Administrator wants. Maybe it’s some sort of alien with unfathomable technology, or maybe it’s some time traveler hoping to destroy all wage slaves. Or maybe, it’s the vengeful spirit of someone who was worked to death. I don’t know.” “…” “You’re thinking it sounds ridiculous. But honestly, that is all I know. From the two times I have been through this, the bastard is possibly recreating these game worlds with an emulator or something. Our consciousnesses is then pulled over to this side then assigned to the physical bodies of characters from various video games. And then…” “If the core dies, does that mean… everybody else gets liberated?” “… Yes, there is that as well.”

Her assent was marked with discomfort, but I was only looking for the facts. I assured her that was the case and there was no need to feel guilty for it before further probing her.

“Just for reference, when was the first time you were brought to this side?” “The spring of 2014. The second time was… autumn in 2016. I truly have no luck with workplaces.” “Was it the first or the second time that you witnessed the death of the core?” “The second. First time around, I had returned before I knew what was going on. I suppose the core was killed, but I have no idea. For both cases though, I ended up simply losing conscious for about a week in the real world.” “I see. And have you beaten the world, like, as a game before?” “No.” “Okay. Have you ever been chosen as the core?” “No… The core for my second time here was someone who I got to know well. A good friend.” “That… that must’ve been tough.” “Yes, I suppose.”

In a sense, discomfort, but more so a mournful pain marked her confirmation this time. No doubt that it was an excruciating experience.

“She told me she worked at a bank and that she liked games. Perhaps people who like to game are more likely to be chosen to be the core… Or perhaps not. I mean, I game quite a lot too.” “Ya boy’s a hardcore gamer himself too.”

A third voice interjected and joined our conversation. I looked up without thinking; Elizabeth whipped around in a startle. Behind her stood Kiryū and the unstoppable hellish army in tow. He’s… really looking like something else. The buggy was filled to the brim with supplies. Various weapons and ammunition were dangling from each soldier, tied on with the makeshift rope. Among everyone else, though, Kiryū was carrying the heaviest load: Nick. The frozen protagonist was cradled to his back with what seems to be a baby sling made with the same reused bedsheets.

“Sounds like liking video games is the requirement for being transported to this dimension and not for being chosen as the core. There’s probably ‘nother factor we’re missin’.”

How can someone be so cool when he speaks but look so lame cradling an adult baby?

“Since when did you return?!”

Elizabeth couldn’t hide the fact that he took her by surprise. There’s something else though. She looks tenser than she was before. Being threatened to be eaten by zombies and being held prisoner would do that you. Conscious of that, I interrupted the two of them.

“Hey, Kiryū! Hey! We were in the middle of a serious conversation just now. Which part did you start listening in from?” “Pretty much from the beginning.”

He severed the connection between Elizabeth’s ankle and the door lever with a knife. His knot seemed to be too tight to be untied by hand. Kiryū’s really not going easy on her, huh? No, it’s more than that. Look closely—isn’t he gritting his teeth like he’s Harry Callahan?

“It must’ve been really hard for you to hold back from ridiculing her theories, I bet.” “… you don’t know the half of it! How the hell would an emulator be capable of recreating worlds, let alone transferring consciousnesses?! That’s too much fiction to your science. What, do we all have electrodes sticking into our brains or somethin’ right now? No, wait, you’re right. We’re in the middle of an alien abduction because that’s totally what it is.” “Yeesh, okay, I get you. Jeez. We were just chatting, y’know? Just wondering about the what ifs. Smiling and nodding can be the key skill to good communication, Kiryū.” “That’s a skill I couldn’t care less about. Unfortunately, I can’t help but to call you two out on your scientific inaccuracies. I’m in too deep with machines both as work and as a passion to care about interpersonal relationships.” “In too deep with machines? Are you some sort of inventor?” “In a sense… Like, I do a lot of benchmarking. I love running benchmarks on every video card that comes on the market.” “… Where’s the fun in that?”

Fed up with our conversation, Elizabeth heaved a sigh. Kiryū untied his sling and threw Nick off of his back and onto the ground.

“Kiryū! There’s only one Nick in the game, so treat him better!” “As if. More of him popped up at the beginning of the level. I also took the chance to secure a large batch of unlimited ammo rifles too.” “Uh… what?!” “I explored a bit of the map we’re in right now… Just a bit ahead in the game is the Shooting Range, right?” “Um, yes, that’s right.” “I found a really rudimentary bug there.”

He had a smug smile as he looked around at our army.

“So, you know how when you’re at the range, you can shoot your guns dry, leave, and come back to them at max ammo, right?” “Oh… that’s right. It was like that in the game as well.” “I tried it out with the pistol first. I shot it until I was out of ammo, left the gun on the ground, and then left the range… What do you think happened?” “… What happened?” “A fully loaded pistol appeared in Nick’s hand. I went back inside, and the empty gun was still just lying there.” “… Whoa, no kidding! That means you can generate endless guns like that!” “Bingo! Awesome, right? Just like you said, we can do that to get as many guns as we want. But it seems like we can only duplicate guns available at the range, so I couldn’t get any more combat knives. I’ve seen similar bugs in other games, so that got me thinkin’ if I could get it to work here… but there you have it.”

There were no other words other than “smug” to describe Kiryū’s face. I took a careful look and noticed all of the soldiers were wielding assault rifles with unlimited ammo. Not only that, but every soldier had a bedsheet baby sling and a Nick on their backs. We had more in our army than I could count. There were at least twenty of them in the room.

“Wait, what about the five-follower limit… Oh, I get it! Nick’s a player character too!” “That’s exactly it. Each Nick we have, we get five more soldiers.” “Awesome! We’re duplicating everything!” “Pretty good thinking, eh?” “Oh, boy, this is going to be so much fun!” “I hate to admit it, but I’m getting a little excited too.” “… What in heaven’s name are you talking about…?”

Left behind in our excitement was Elizabeth, who didn’t understand any of it. Someone who doesn’t even know who Sera is of course wouldn’t know anything about zombie games. It took a thorough explanation of the game’s system for her to finally follow along.

“I see. Well, in any case, it’s plain to see you have accomplished something incredible. Still, why has Nick multiplied?” “When I began to take Nick away from start of this level, the game kept wanting to return Nick to the proper spawn location for the level change. And since there wasn’t a limit, I just kept doing it until I had about twenty Nicks.” “How curious. Nick would disappear from your hands and be returned to the spawn area… is that not a little weird?” “Well, it’s a bug. Normally in the game, it’s neither possible to leave a gun at the range nor is it to take the protagonist away before the game even starts. Can’t say I’ve expected any of this to happen the way it did.” “This world is very curious indeed. Kinda makes you wish that the creators made up their mind whether they wanted a survival horror or a sci-fi game. Oh, right! Let’s dupe the grenade launcher afterwards. We shouldn’t have access it to it just yet, but I’ve got an idea how to get our hands on one.” “What are you planning on doing with all this firepower…?”

After seeing the sly smiles on our faces, Elizabeth was utterly fed up with us. However, seeing where we were now, what other choices did we have? We’re gamers after all.

“First, let’s go and beat this game. You don’t know what that’s like though, right, Elizabeth? We’re going to take total control of this zombie-infested world with our superior firepower. Maybe on your first time here, someone else went and cleared the game and that’s how you got out. You never know.”

As soon as I said that, a terrible roar echoed in the background.

■Kiryū, II

A software engineer who is… supposedly very cautious. Nevertheless, he lets his guard down around Sera, but that should prove to be fine. Thirty years of age but acts like a smug twenty-three-year-old when he discovers bugs. Kiryū may seem to be too cruel towards Elizabeth, but perhaps he is normally this suspicious towards women—or rather, anybody. Though it may be inevitable due to personal reasons, nevertheless, it does not detract from the fact that he is too wary.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /next/

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bards-witcher · 6 years ago

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There isn’t enough VanOhm content so I decided to add my 2 cents to the mix. Hope you enjoy.

Just thought this was an interesting idea, and I’m planning on a couple more chapters where they will get together.

Evans POV

It was 2 am when they’d finished their recording session, the other guys having already left discord in favour of their own beds, leaving only him and Ohm left in the call. It wasn’t often that they’d have a catch up after their sessions but sometimes it was nice to just chill with his friends as he waited for himself to get sleepy.

Ohm was currently telling him about his new dog, Tiny, about how much of a menace he was, and that Ohm had already lost 2 pairs of shoes to him. Evan though was content to simply listen to Ohm, giving a small laugh or grunt hear and there so that Ohm knew he was still there. He liked listening to Ohm, his smooth voice, when not screaming down the mic or in a fit of giggles, was quick to soothe him, and late at night could help lull him to sleep. Not that he didn’t like the other noises Ohm made, his growing archive of 32 Ohm noises was proof of that, and it was even better when he was the one to get the older man into his giggly state.

“Ev, you still there?”

Evan blinked and shook his head a little when his name was called out, he really needed to sort out his schedule.

“I guess you’re asleep then” he heard Ohm huff a laugh at that “I’ll speak to you later Ev. G’night”

“Wait, Ohm I’m still here, I was just, err, grabbing a glass of water”, his voice thick with sleep. Evan put his head in his hands and groaned quietly, that was probably the worst acting he’d ever done. But, what else could he say? Please stay and talk to me longer because your voice comforts me? That was a sure-fire way to make things awkward between them.

“Ev, you okay?” The worry was evident in Ohms' voice, in truth he probably wasn’t okay, he felt stretched thin and at breaking point, but if he was good at anything it was lying to himself.

“Yeah I’m fine Ohm, why’d you ask?”

He heard a sigh on the other side of the call, he knew what that meant. “I’m worried about you Evan, I think you’re overworking yourself too much. You’re doing your music and YouTube and I can see the strain it’s having on you, I don’t have to see you to know that it’s breaking you down bit by bit. I care for you, you’re a great friend, a great content creator and your music is fucking awesome, but you need to know when to stop.”

Evan felt tears brim his eyes, he couldn’t deny the truth in Ohms words, but he also couldn’t stop his work, he had fans counting on his videos and demands to meet by his manager.

“I’m not saying you need to stop YouTube or your music, just slow it down a bit, take it easy and look after yourself.”

Evans' head was racing through Ohm’s words leaving him unable to form a proper response, instead just saying a simple ‘G’night Ohm’ before ending the call. He’s sure he can feel Ohms frown through his screen and sure enough, he hears a notification from their private chat.

Take care Evan 😊

The Canadian smiled a little at the message, he knew he’d been a bit of a dick to Ohm, he was only trying to look out for him after all, the man was too caring for his own good. With that he shut off his setup and made his way to his bedroom, trying not to trip over the bits of clothing littered on his floor. He didn’t even get changed as he fell onto his bed, sleep however restless, was quick to come.

He heard his 7 am alarm go off and groaned as he rolled over to turn it off, he rubbed his head as he felt a headache coming on and simply sat up to take 2 Ibuprofens dry. As if on autopilot he simply stripped down and went for his shower, simply standing under the water trying to ignore the growing pain behind his eyes.

He made the brief mental note to do his laundry later as he put on what was probably his last clean set of clothes. He ignored the plates piled high in the sink and the takeout boxes everywhere in favour of pulling out the last few slices of pizza from the night before.

He quickly checked his phone, seeing one of his discord chats.

Sweaties:

Ohm: Sorry guys I’m gonna bail tonight, had a family emergency come up ☹

Moo: Sorry to hear that I hope everything’s okay.

Ohm: Yeah just an old friend of mine got sick all of a sudden, it’s supposed to be quite serious so I’m gonna go check up on them tonight.

Moo: Well I hope everything goes alright and remember we’re here if you need us.

Nogla: Yeah I hope your friends alright, but don’t worry I’ll be sweaty enough for the both of us, it’ll be like you’re actually here.

Ohm: Wish I could’ve sent you my world-famous sweatpants XD

Brian: Ugh

Brian: I hope your friends alright Ohm but Nogla’s sweaty enough as is without compensating for you.

Moo: As if you’re not already the sweatiest one here Brian.

Ohm: XD

Nogla: :’D

Brian has left the chat

Evan: Hope your friends alright Ohm, take care.

With that, he shut his phone off and left to start his long walk to his meeting. He’d briefly thought about calling an Uber but decided the fresh air would do him good. He was on autopilot as he made his way to the building, even throughout the meeting, simply writing down the odd note, answering a couple questions on deadlines and having a brief discussion on his future work.

It was early afternoon when he started walking home, in the back of his mind he noted that he needed to do a grocery shop but then he thought about how much easier it was to simply order in food, and his mind was made up.

When he got home he chucked his keys onto the kitchen table and put his jacket on the nearest chair. Discarding his shoes, he made his way to the couch where he started flicking through channels until he found some thriller to watch. It wasn’t long before he started falling asleep, he briefly thought about moving to his bed but that involved moving, so instead adjusted himself slightly and waited for sleep to take him.

He woke up to knocking on his door, which is strange because he wasn’t expecting anyone, as shown by the dire state of his studio.

He looked at his phone, 6:52 pm, he panicked slightly, he hadn’t meant to sleep that long, in fact he only had a few hours before he was supposed to be recording with the guys. He was brought back to attention by another knock on his door.

He rubbed at his face and combed through his hair as he made his way to the door, trying to look somewhat presentable for the unexpected guest. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a somewhat rugged man about the same height as him, cheeks red after being in the cold, beaming a smile at him. Evan wasn’t going to deny that he was good looking, he had soft hazel doe eyes and his trimmed beard framed his face nicely, he had what looked like soft brown hair currently sticking out in various directions he’s sure was caused by the wind. Some part of him for some reason wanted to comb his hand through the man’s hair, but before he could take that thought further he hears the man in front of him clear his throat.

Evan snaps his eyes back to the strangers when he realizes he’s pretty much been drooling over him, except the man doesn’t seem to mind, smile still on his face and mirth in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, can I help you with something?”. The man lifted his arm a little bit and Evan saw the pizza box in his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t order any food”. Evan was confused about what was happening, the guy didn’t look like a delivery driver, and he made no move to leave.

“Who said it was for you? I’m fucking starving, although if you ask me nicely I’ll share” There was no denying who’s voice that belonged, this time Evan couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. “Ev, your corridor is really cold, is it alright for me to come in?”

Mouth still open Evan opened his door for the man to come through, he entered the flat, suitcase in tow, before trying to make space on the kitchen counter to put the pizza down. Seeing this made Evan flustered, the fact that he was seeing Ohm for the first time and Ohm was seeing how bad his living situation was only affirmed what the man had told him last night.

Evan quickly moved to the counter, picking up empty takeout containers and shoving them into the bin although it made little difference. “What are you doing here Ohm? How are you here? How’d you know where I live? What about your friend?” Evan couldn’t stop the onslaught of questions until Ohm raised his hand.

“I asked a couple of the guys where you lived, took a bit of persuading and some sort of lifetime deal to Craig but here I am. I was worried about you, so I decided I’d come to see you myself, make sure you were doing alright. Although your flat Eva….”

“I know I live like shit at the moment and I really would’ve preferred you’d call first; do you know how embarrassing it is for you to see me living like this” Evan didn’t mean to snap like that, he knew the American was just trying to help him.

“If you were taking care of yourself like you should be then you wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with. I know it’s hard dealing with this shit on your own and I know you’d never ask for help which is why I flew my ass down here.

“Up here.”

“What?”

“You flew your ass up here you mean, you see Canada is above America, therefore, you’d have to fly up to be here”

Ohm just stared at him before he started to laugh, the tension between them started to melt away after that.

“I’m gonna need some help finishing this pizza you know, I hope pepperoni’s alright?”

“Sure, you want a drink? I got a couple beers in the fridge if you want one?”

“You’re alright thanks, I came prepared” Ohm grabbed the pizza and his rucksack before making his way to the couch.

Evan grabbed a beer from the fridge before joining his friend on the couch. Evan stared at Ohm in disbelief as he saw several cans of drinks in his bag. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is”. Ohm laughed as he opened one of the cans he’d pulled from his bag.

“Told you I came prepared, nobody else ever has Brisk Iced Tea so I have to take it into my own hands”.

“You’re such a nerd”. They sat there talking and laughing for a couple of hours, simply enjoying each other’s company. Evan was often finding himself stealing glances at the man whilst he was animated in telling his stories, content to just listen and watch.

It was about 9pm when he pulled out his phone, pulling up discord and sending a quick message to the guys that he was gonna bail on recording for the next few days, instead taking some time for a much-needed break. He expected to receive a couple of small jabs about it but all of them were nothing but supportive, and at that moment Evan couldn’t have wished for better friends.

He then pulled up Twitter and posted a similar message for his fans, most of them sending him their well wishes. He smiled when he noticed Ohm, who was just in the bathroom, liked and commented on his post, the man really was a nerd.

“You know I’m right here, you don’t have to post on my twitter, you nerd.”

Ohm laughed as he sat back down next to Evan “First of all I wear the term nerd as a badge of honour” Evan scoffed at that, “and secondly, of course I’m going to support you online. Would you rather I tell them that I’m on your couch whilst you’re drooling over me? That’d start up the fanfictions” Evan turned pale after hearing that, he thought he’d been keeping his observations secret, but the smirk Ohm was aiming at him said otherwise.

“I don’t mind you staring at me Ev, it’s a lot to take in, Luke was the same when I first met him.” Ohms words reassured Evan a little, the older man sending him a smile before turning back to the Tv.

“You know there’s already fanfiction about us”. Evan beat himself up silently in his head, why on earth didn’t he keep his mouth shut.

Ohm turned to him with a curious look on his face which Evan couldn’t quite make out. “Any good?”

Getting over the shock of Ohm not being freaked out, Evan smirked before facing Ohm “I enjoyed the ones I’ve read, but I don’t think you’d enjoy them as much”

“Oh yeah why’s that” Ohm now turned his body towards Evan, the look on his face vanishing in favour of a teasing smirk.

“Because you’re my bottom bitch in all of them”. Ohms' eyes widened, and his face turned bright red as Evan could do nothing but laugh.

“No way, I’m older, wiser and more experienced, if anything you should be the bottom bitch” Ohm was still flustered as he stuttered out his response, Evan still laughing at the man trying to defend his authority.

“Clearly the fans know what they’re talking about. I can send you the links if you want, but the facts don’t lie” Evans laughter had died down, but still enjoying the bright red on Ohms' face.

“Send me the links then”. Now it was time for Evans' eyes to panic, he hadn’t expected Ohm to follow through on his remark. He tried to formulate a response, but nothing would come out of his mouth, he couldn’t send links of fics which had himself fucking his friend, to said friend in front of him.

Ohm seemed to sense his discomfort and put his hand on Evans' knee, causing him to blush at the contact, Ohm seemingly unaware of the effect he was having on the younger man. “I’m joking Ev, besides I’ve read most of them anyway”. Now Evan was shocked but for a completely different reason, he’s sure he’s starting to go crazy. He’s questioning whether he’d actually heard that or not when Ohm simply stands up and wishes Evan a good night before heading to the guest room.

Evan stayed on the couch thinking about what just happened. He’s not going to lie when he says he may have had a small crush on the masked gamer, and him turning up on his doorstep seemed to have increased it tenfold. Was this Ohms way of saying he felt the same?

Evan tried not to think too hard about it as he made his way to his own room, stripping down to his boxers and collapsing on top of his bed. It took a while to quiet his racing thoughts long enough to sleep, where his dreams were to be plagued by a certain man in the room next to him.

#vanohm #ohmwrecker #vanoss #just ohm trying to support his friends #and 2 dorks too scared to admit they like each other #but that's for later :)#I know their characterisation isn't great but its the best I got #try not to hate me too much for it

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youtuberswithalex · 6 years ago

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Virgil Sanders and the Big, Bad Dream

Summary: Virgil wakes up in the middle of the night from a terrible nightmare, only to discover that he’s regressed again. Luckily for him, his dad will always be there. [Sequel to A Little Anxious]

Note: Heyo, it’s my 3,000th post on this blog! I wanted to do something special, and I know a lot of people really enjoyed ALA and were really excited for the next one, so I sat down and finally finished writing this today. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3,361

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Deceit, nightmares, manipulation, drowning, crying, self hate, parental panic

Writing Masterpost -- Ko-Fi

Virgil was alone.

His eyes snapped open to a solid pitch black darkness surrounding him. There was no light, no sound, no air, no air, he couldn’t breathe, he was going to die—

A footstep behind him. He whirled around.

“Who’s there?!”

A breeze brushed the back of his neck; his head snapped around in every direction, but there was nothing to be seen. He swallowed thickly.

“Hello…?”

“Oh, Anxiety…”

A glint of yellow flashed in the corner of his eye. Before he had the chance to look, something snatched his wrist. Virgil let out a yell as he was yanked back.

“Stop!”

Chilling laughter echoed as a cold, slimy… something slithered around his waist and constricted. A wheeze ripped out of him.

“How naive you were to think I’d ever let you go,” the voice sung. “To think you were ever worth something…”

He opened his mouth to retort, but it filled with water before any noise could come out. It trickled down his throat, into his lungs, choking him, drowning him—

“Those monstrous sides really have you wrapped around their fingers. Corrupting you into believing those lies… Oh, it just breaks my heart to see you turning into them.”

The glint of yellow reappeared, just a few feet in front of him this time. Virgil squirmed, trying to get out of the grip of whatever was holding him there, but it only tightened and choked him further. Bile rose in his throat.

Scales came into view, and then a face that grinned and sent shivers down at him. A hand came down to cup his cheek; it was bigger than his whole head.

“I always thought you had potential, Anxiety,” Deceit hissed. “I knew the others were always far too gone to save, but you were different. You were so much better than them. Always doing what you must to save Thomas, while they sat around and villainized us. Animals, really!”

He pulled his hand away and shook his head, shutting his eyes. Virgil swallowed thickly and looked down.

“Look at you now, though. You’ve turned into just as big a monster as they are. There’s no saving you now. You’re nothing but a villain, no matter which way you look at it. You’ve hurt them in the past, and you’re hurting us now.”

Virgil sucked in a shaking breath before a gloved hand snatched his chin and forced him to look into Deceit’s piercing eyes. His other hand lifted to hover by his face.

“You’ve trusted them far more than they deserve,” he growled. “I wanted to help you. You were family, after all. But this, Virgil?”

He shuddered.

“This will be your downfall.”

Deceit snapped, and fall he did.

Down,

Down…

Shuddering gasp ripping through his lungs, Virgil’s eyes snapped open; he moved to sit up, but his arms were entangled, the monster still had him it wasn’t a dream— until he wrangled himself to freedom and whirled around to sit on his knees. The blankets tumbled off of his shoulders as he panted, and the breeze from the air conditioning chilled goosebumps into his arms.

Wait.

He wasn’t wearing his jacket.

But no, that couldn’t be right, he slept in it every night, he hardly ever took it off unless Patton made him to put it in the wash, why would it be—

Dread pooled into his stomach. He looked down.

Virgil was kneeling on it. But it was nearly twice his size, and his hands were tiny.

His vision blurred.

Patton was fully aware that Logan would be incredibly disappointed in him right now.

As the Parks and Rec theme softly sounded again, his eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. 3:27 am: two and a half hours before Logan would be up, three and a half before Roman, and anywhere from three to five hours before Virgil, depending on how much his anxiety would allow him to sleep tonight. Patton himself wouldn’t be up until well after 10, so he could probably avoid Logan’s scolding glare, but he knew from experience that he couldn’t dodge it if he was still awake when Logan got up.

There was still plenty of time, though. Time enough to watch just a couple more episodes.

He yawned and settled in closer to the big Snorlax plush in his arms. It was getting towards the time that Patton should be setting his glasses to the side in case he fell asleep mid-episode, but he felt no motivation towards doing so. They pressed against his face and skewed thanks to Snorlax; normally, he’d ajust to fix it, but he simply let it happen this time.

His tired mind focused in and out on the episode, eyes fluttering open and shut.

…Something was wrong.

Patton blinked blearily and lifted his head at the twist of his gut, one of the legs of his glasses falling over his ear and down his face. A frown etched onto his face as he tried to decipher the cause.

When they had been kids, Patton used to get these feelings all the time for the smallest of reasons. Someone needed help getting a cup down from the cupboard, or with homework, or had gotten into a fight with another Side and they’d hurt each other’s feelings. There wasn’t much he could do most of the time, since he was just as small and immature as they were, but he’d always done what he could to fix the problems at hand. The older he got, the better he became at handling them, but the others had grown up and more independent too, of course, so he was needed less and less often as time wore on.

Gut Dad Instincts now were a rare occurrence, sure, but when he did get them, they were often emergencies. Roman coming back from a quest with an injury he couldn’t fix on his own, Logan stressing himself with work to the point where he’d collapse with a high fever that would last for days… When someone needed help but didn’t know how to or was too stubborn to ask for it, there was always a small, sharp twist in Patton’s gut alerting him, and he was on his own to figure out who it was from and how he could help.

When he got one this late—err, early –Patton could only fear a big, big emergency, one that would have surely woken him up even if he had been asleep. Worry swirled thickly around the Dad Instinct feeling.

Patton shot up and paused the video, listening closely. Surely, there had to be footsteps, or a door opening, or something that could alert him to who was in trouble. Something like—

Like the sound of crying a wall away.

He cursed under his breath as he scrambled out of bed and towards the nearest pair of pants lying on the floor. No one in the Mindscape cried without good reason except for Patton. If someone was crying, something was very wrong. He started preparing himself for the worst, for a medical emergency, or a friend of Thomas’s in trouble, or maybe even dead—

As soon as he threw his sweatpants on, Patton threw himself through his door and into the hall. He strained his ears to find the source of the noise.

Virgil.

Oh, god, no.

He sprinted.

Skidding to a stop outside of his door, he grabbed the handle and listened closely one more time. Maybe he was just hearing things, or maybe he was awake and watching something where a character was crying…

No. No, the sound wasn’t coming from any speakers, but Patton realized with a start that it didn’t sound like it was Virgil crying. There was something familiar about it, though, something that was just on the edge of Patton’s mind that he couldn’t quite bring to the forefront.

Quietly, he risked a gentle knock.

“Kiddo?” he called, trying to keep his voice down. “Virge, are you doing alright?”

He heard a sob, followed by the shuffling of fabric.

“Daddy?” a voice whimpered.

Patton’s eyes widened, a flash of a terrified toddler diving into his arms a few weeks ago running through his memory.

“Virgil, I’m coming in.”

He’d hardly finished the sentence before he pushed the door open.

There was no denying the crippling wave of relief that washed over him when he saw no injuries on the anxious trait, but it was very quickly snuffed out when the toddler-sized Virgil let out a shuddering sob and attempted to worm his way out of the blankets to get to Patton. The Father Figure Figment rushed over and untangled him, wrapping him up in his arms as he sat down on the bed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Virgil clung to Patton as tightly as his tiny arms would allow him, and a string of garbled attempted words tumbled out. There wasn’t much Patton could understand, but he heard the words “dream” and “Deceit” in the same breath, and he silently pieced it together. He held Virgil a little bit closer as anger bubbled up over the Dad Instincts.

“Shh, kiddo. You’re safe. D’s not going to get you here,” he said.

Letting out a loud sob, Virgil buried his face in Patton’s night shirt and shook his head.

Patton pressed a gentle kiss into Virgil’s hair and began to rock them back and forth. His heart twisted knowing this was all he could do until Virgil could calm down enough to talk it out.

Down the hall, a door opened, and set of footsteps hurried towards them. Roman appeared in the doorway a beat later; one hand gripped his sword while the other rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He still wore his red flannel pajamas and fluffy slippers, and if the situation hadn’t have been so heartbreaking, Patton would have laughed.

“What’s happening?” Roman mumbled.

Patton frowned, looking back down at the child in his arms. “He had a really scary nightmare,” he explained. “One bad enough to make him regress again.”

Roman’s eyes widened in understanding; as his free hand fell back to his side, he glanced around the room. “Is being in here going to make things worse?”

“Oh, gracious, you’re right…”

Patton peeled Virgil back just enough to peer under his eyes and check the eye shadow; sure enough, it was blacker than a witch’s cat and thick enough to rival a raccoon. The tears running down his cheeks soaked it up and left big, blotchy spots on Patton’s shirt, but they didn’t wash any of the eye shadow away.

With a grimace, Patton pulled him back against him and shifted so his head was on his shoulder and his arms tight around his neck. He carefully got to his feet and glanced at the jacket still lying on the sheets.

He turned to Roman. “Would you be willing to grab that? I’m going to bring him to my room.”

“Of course.”

The two quietly slipped around each other, and Patton steadily made his way down the hall, doing what he could to calm Virgil and keep his own emotions in check. His door was, thankfully, still wide open; he easily headed in and settled back onto the bed, pulling up his legs to sit cross-legged on top of the comforter and lowering Virgil to rest in his lap. Roman stepped in right behind them and carefully handed the jacket to Patton.

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton said. “Go back to bed. I can handle this from here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t—I don’t want to—”

Roman turned his face away, trying his hardest to stifle a yawn; when he turned back, Patton smiled softly and shook his head.

“It’s okay. Get some sleep.”

Nodding in defeat, Roman headed back to the door and gripped the knob, pulling it almost closed. “Thank you, Patton. Wake me up if you need anything.”

“That’s my line.”

Roman let out a soft laugh; the smile fell as he looked down to the toddler in Patton’s lap. “Virgil?” he gently offered. “I hope you feel better, young prince. You’re safe with Daddy now.”

Virgil sniffled and clung closer to Patton. The adults shot each other sympathetic glances before Roman bid the two good night and shut the door.

As soon as they were alone, Patton pulled Virgil away long enough to wrap him in his jacket and swipe the current tears away with the pad of his thumb. For the first time since he’d been found, Virgil made eye contact with him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Patton felt his heart shatter. He quickly shook his head, brushing the hair out of Virgil’s face.

“Oh, Virgil,” he sighed. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Pulling his arms out, Virgil shook his head and wiped his eyes. He leaned away from Patton’s touch. “I woke you up! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!”

Patton let out a short laugh. “You didn’t wake me up, kiddo. I hadn’t gone to bed yet. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have been upset about waking up when you needed someone!”

Virgil sniffled, hesitantly peering up at him. “You wouldn’t…?”

“Never in a million years.” Patton slowly lifted his hand to boop Virgil on the nose. “You’re more important than a little sleep, Virgil.”

There was a beat of silence. Virgil stared down at Patton’s hand, to the dark splotches on his shirt, and then up to the gentle smile being offered to him.

His lower lip trembled, and he curled in further on himself. Tears spilled down his cheeks again as he squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a whimper and dove back into Patton’s arms.

“I-I-I’m n-not!” he sobbed. “I sh-shouldn’t be! I’m sorry!”

Patton hushed him and pulled him close, gently rocking them again. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

Virgil began to tremble against his chest. “I don’t want to be bad…!”

“You’re not bad, Virgil.”

“I was mean to you and Ro and Lo!”

“But you know better than that now, and I’m so proud of you for growing so much.”

Patton pressed another kiss into Virgil’s hair and began to rub his hand up and down his back, all while Virgil shuddered and snuggled closer into him.

“Why-y?” Virgil whimpered.

Patton tightened his grip. “Because I love you, Virgil! A good dad’s love for his kids is always unconditional. And I always will, no matter how bad or how mean you’ve ever been or ever get. Okay? I love you, Virgil. That won’t ever change.”

They stayed like this for a long while, until all of the tears had been shed and the cries had grown silent. Though Virgil still trembled in his arms, Patton let out a soft sigh of relief that the worst was over. Carefully, he moved to rest his cheek on the top of Virgil’s head.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he muttered. “I think some sleep would really do you some good. How about we go back to bed?”

Virgil let out a weak whimper, followed by a sniffle. He was quiet for a beat.

“…Can I stay with you tonight?”

It took everything Patton had in him to not break down in tears himself at the fear lacing Virgil’s tone. His eyes squeezed shut as he nodded slowly.

“Absolutely, honey. You can come any time, big or small, okay?” he said.

Virgil nodded and gripped Patton tighter.

When it became clear that Virgil wasn’t letting go any time soon, Patton carefully maneuvered them until his head rested on his shoulder before he stood and headed to the light switch. Virgil let out a cry when the room darkened; Patton was quick to plug in the fairy lights that lined his ceiling.

They made a quick stop at Patton’s desk to drop off his glasses and get Virgil a drink of water from one of the many, many cups that lined the edges, and then the two carefully settled under the blankets. Virgil fell asleep laying on Patton’s chest almost instantly, lulled away by the steady heartbeat and calm breathing.

Patton, however, took a little while longer, mind racing with thoughts of what sort of things Virgil might have dreamt about earlier and what might have caused those fears to begin with. Heartbreak and anger swirled viciously in his gut; it took all he had to keep his heart from racing in his chest. There was nothing more that he wanted to do right now than go and confront Deceit and the other Dark Sides head-on, but the child in his arms kept him from moving. Instead, Patton pressed a feather-soft kiss into Virgil’s hair and silently vowed once again to give him as much love as it could possibly take to make up for the years of it he’d lost.

A few silent tears escaped before he controlled himself, and then he, too, was fast asleep.

Logan was far from happy the next morning when he stepped out of his room and saw a little light shining from behind Patton’s door.

Letting out a huff, he smoothed out his still damp hair and adjusted his tie, preparing himself for the confrontation he was about to engage in. Honestly, he’d stressed to Patton time and time again the importance of a healthy sleeping schedule, and here he was, awake at six in the morning again, all for some silly television show that any of them could watch at any time! Knowing Patton, it wasn’t even an educational program, and that only fired Logan up even further.

He briskly walked over and let himself in, aware that Patton would simply pretend to be asleep if he knew Logan was coming to lecture him.

“Patton, I—”

He froze.

There was no sign of any sort of program on at all; in fact, the light didn’t even appear to be coming from the top light, as it normally was when Patton stayed up all night watching television. A quick glance around the room confirmed his hypothesis—the television was off, the laptop was closed and resting on the edge of his bed (much to Logan’s worry), and the only source of light was coming from the fairy lights that were rarely on.

Logan was about to question this when he heard a loud snore from Patton, drawing his attention to the bed. His frustration melted away when he realized that there lie all the explanation he needed.

Patton lay under the blankets, propped up just a bit by the many, many pillows at the top of his bed, and head resting on a large Pokemon stuffed animal. His mouth was parted just enough for any snoring to rumble the room with each breath that he took. It was common knowledge that Patton snored—he was the father, after all –but it was very rare for it to ever be this loud.

However, a small figure lay on his chest, most likely applying the weight needed to increase the volume. The mass of purple and black fabric didn’t stir despite the constant movement; in fact, it seemed to be quite relaxed where it was. Soft breathing from it filled the gap in between the rumbling snores.

A tiny hand loosely gripped Patton’s night shirt, and Patton’s arm was carefully wrapped around the figure. As Logan inched closer, he noted dried tear tracks on both of their faces. Remnants of waterlogged eye shadow lingered in varying spots across the two.

From the data he’d gathered, Logan could only assume this: some sort of emotional event had taken place in the night, causing a fear of being alone, crying, exhaustion, and Virgil’s age regression.

As much as he wished to wake them and ask for more information, Logan took another look at Virgil’s sleeping form and sighed. The toddler looked just as exhausted as he did when he was an adult, even when resting.

With a shake of the head, Logan snuck back into the hall and shut the door as quietly as it would allow him to.

His questions could wait.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #moxiety #platonic moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #alex writes #a little anxious #deceit #ts deceit

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