#okay. back to hating this man with my whole chest. he's evil.

[hypokeimena]

don't ever change (4x12) is the best episode of house

minimal hate crimes SLASH patient is jewish and i'm jewish so i get to decide where the line is for the hate crimes i will personally accept and for me: it's tolerable.

medical condition makes sense and is not insane. (house md fandom wiki rates this ep as 'zebra factor 1')

i guess i sort of said this in 1, but broadly speaking, just do love it when there's jews. bonus: only orthogonal housonian antisemitism! ('it's fine to be jewish, just not religious about it,' which like. is shitty. but this is hate crimes md and see #1.)

thirteen gets outed. bi pride! #representation

house realizes wilson is dating amber volakis AKA 'cutthroat bitch' and explicitly, with his human words, says "you're dating me!" when he realizes, and then, later, 'you could do worse than dating a female proxy of me' when he's decided to give them his blessing

at the same time, in this episode, house knows... way too much about judaism. like, more than the reform/liberal jews on his team. i think it's taub* (jewish) who describes the prayer the hasidic patient's husband says over her - "he's singing, something about eshet hayil" - and house instantly knows and explains that this is a prayer for a husband to say over his wife, calling her a woman of valor. this is a thing that plenty of jews would not necessarily recognize off the top of their heads! this is something that very few goyim would know off the top of their heads.

this is just one example but he consistently has huge reservoirs of information about jewish stuff that the other jewish characters on the main cast do not know or are not chosen to be the ones to convey to the audience. thus: house knows truly just so much about judaism, and uses about half of it to be an obnoxious jerk.

why does he know all this stuff.

why is he insane and over the top about wilson's judaism in the (previous) christmas episode as well. he takes it more seriously than wilson does. by a significant factor

NOW, TO SYNTHESIZE SEVERAL OF THE ABOVE POINTS INTO A MATHEMATICAL PROOF FOR WHY THIS IS THE BEST EPISODE OF HOUSE:

this is making me insane. like i don't know how to explain this. did he learn this stuff - did he take a conversion class specifically to be able to bully wilson? WHY DOES HE KNOW THIS. WHAT DID HE DO.

i'm normal about it

how is house going to be like "i give you permission to date a lady version of me instead of dating me" while he is clearly advertising what an amazing jewish wife he would make for wilson

it's just a perfect episode.

[lunajay33]

Taste for Older Men Part.2

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since everything happened, my parents have been extremely over supportive always, when I’d come down for breakfast they’d have wide smiles and cheery voices but I couldn’t hate them for it they’re just trying to make me feel better even though I was already happier than I’ve ever been in my life

I still work everyday at Negans farm but my parents still don’t know that we’re together and we’re not quite sure how to tell them, I mean he’s my dads best friend and I don’t want to ruin that but I also can’t give up Negan he’s all I’ve ever wanted so there’s got to be a way

I was in the barn pitch forking up some loose hay when I feel Negans arms wrap around my waist

“You know if I was gonna get more help around here I’d have told you my feelings way earlier” I laugh as I lean back into his chest

“Watch yourself lil lady I’m still your boss remember”

“Oh I remember” he spins me in his arms resting my hands on his shoulders

“So how do we tell my parents I don’t want to sneak around I want to be able to be with you when we’re around other people”

“I know sunshine, old man invited me over tonight to watch football might tell him then, and you can talk to your mother” I feel nervous about this but it needs to be done

“Hopefully they don’t rip my head off”

“If they’re going that route it’ll be me they rip apart” me smiles as he leans down to kiss me his grey speckled beard scratching against my face but it was something I craved when he wasn’t around

“Come on let’s finish up our chores before you get carried away like last time” I laugh as he groans

I got home early as Negan let me off to get ready for tonight and go through everything I want to say to my mom, he wanted that time too he had more to worry about but my father is an understanding man I just home he can understand this too

I stripped off my dirty work clothes and hoped in the shower, relaxing as the dirt and sweat from the day washed away down the drain, after I was all squeaky clean I got dressed in a casual pair of black leggings and a red long sleeve shirt, putting two braids in my hair then waiting on my bed anxiously

After another hour I picked up my phone and dialed Negan, after two rings I hear his voice and everything seemed to not be as stressful

“Hey baby ya alright?”

“Yeah I’m better now, just nervous”

“Don’t stress honey I’m on my way over now, we’ll get this settled” he said with a calming tone

“Okay I’ll see you soon”

We hung up and I made my way downstairs sitting at the kitchen island waiting to hear the rumble of his truck, soon the headlights shine through the window and he’s knocking at the door

I want to rush to the door and through my arms around him but contain myself and let my dad answer, Negans technically his guest anyways

“Negan! You excited for the game buddy?” My dad asked cheerfully as he patted him on the shoulder

“You bet, I meet you in the lounge soon I’ll go say hi to your wife and y/n!”

“Always with the southern hospitality!”

Negan rounded the corner and came into the kitchen where me and my mother sat I couldn’t help the huge smile that stretched my cheeks

“Negan so wonderful to see you again, last time was a bit crazy” I looked down a little embarrassed by that whole fiasco

“Lovely to see you too, and of course my dear little farm hand” he said brushing his hand down my back out of my mothers gaze making my skin chill

“Oh Negan she’s still behaving well isn’t she?”

“Mother of course I am”

“Don’t worry she’s always a great help, got myself a lil working lady”

I look up at him with so much joy and admiration before my mother clear her throat and snaps us out of our moment

“Well here’s two beers, better get in there before he makes a big deal about us stealing you away again” she laughed handing over the beers and began left the room

I look back at my mother who had a knowing look on her face, raised eyebrow with a slight smirk

“What?”

“I’m not stupid sweetie, I’ve seen the way you looked at him since he started coming around, only recently he’s been giving you the same look soooooo you have something to tell me dear”

“Don’t be mad, what I feel for him is real, how he treats me really show how badly Mike treated me and how much Negan treats me like a goddess, he’s a good man”

“I’m not mad, I’m glad you found a man who can treat you the way you deserve, hopefully your father will look at it the same way”

I down now we wait to either hear a fight or Negan comes out smiling

“WHAT?” I hear from the lounge, oh no

I rush into the lounge seeing my dad up in Negans face and he looked more betrayed than angry

“Dad, calm down it’s okay”

“How is this okay my best friend with my daughter”

“I love her f/n” he went silent and so did I this was the first time Negans declared his love

“You love me?” I ask as I step closer

“Of course I do, you’re a wonderful woman every moment with you I feel more happier and at ease than I’ve ever been”

“I love you too sunshine” I lean up to wrap my arms around his neck and he held me tight

“F/n, you know Negan and he’ll treat her right compared to that excuse for a boyfriend she had before” my mom said then hearing my dad sigh

“I know it’s just a lot to wrap my head around, when did this happen?”

“The day we had the barbecue, he came and made me feel better about everything that happened and well our feelings just came out”

“I mean me and your mother knew how you felt about Negan it was pretty obvious, I guess I can eventually get use to this”

“My god was it that obvious?” I ask looking up at Negan and he had a sly smirk

“You didn’t make it sneaky when you’d look at me darlin”

Taglist: @azanoni @scorpioempress @fanficwriter5 @elliesr1fle @imimatcha4life @indigosparkle444

[bokettochild]

  “I don’t know what I am. A harpy, a demon,” He can’t look at their eyes, can’t look at his own hands, hands with claws that are twisted and covered in his own blood from clawing at what should not be there so he looks at his boots. There’s a spatter of blood on the toe of the left one. “No one ever told me, and Uncle told me to hide so others couldn’t see, so we wouldn’t be separated.” Because only Uncle had a heart so tender that he could continue to love a monster’s child as his own, even after he realized his mistake. “Whatever I am, the dark world showed me when I was thrown inside.”  

  “But the crystal turned you into a blupee.” There’s confusion in Twilight’s tone, he can almost see the man reaching out to him, trying to convince him.  

  Laughter rings, twisted and sick and cold and painful as it rattles in his chest. “Yeah.” It sounds more bitter than he’d intended, it sounds harsh and pained, even in the high voice he’s been stuck with since birth. “That’s the thing. The dark world doesn’t change you all at once. Oh, you can be this or that or the other, but the minute you let your heart lay itself bare, the darkened sacred realm will reveal you for what you are.” And now he can’t help it, he can’t help but look up to see his brother’s ( not uncle’s, not uncle’s ) face, irony drawing a bitter huff of laughter to his lips as he watches Twilight’s face shatter in horror and shock. “A wolfoes, a twisted, demented wolfoes with black blades for wings. A demon so horrible even Zelda couldn’t look at me.”    

  Arms close around him, tight and exactly what he expects but- but they’re warm, and once he’s held, he’s pulled against Sky’s chest and there’s a hand in his hair and- this isn’t how people act when they discover a monster!  

  “You’re not a monster, Legend.” It’s repeated again. “You aren’t a monster, you hear me?”  

  “The shadows twist people all sorts of ways.” Twilight hums, boots scuffing the dusty floor as he moves closer to where Sky is- where Sky is hugging him. “They don’t make us evil though.”  

I finally found it! one of my all time favorite pieces of Writing from you in Flight to my heart! and I would love to hear any and all details you're willing to share about it!

Gosh, it's been so long since I actually looked at Flight to My Heart, I had to go back and find this chapter (chapter 24) and re-read it just to remember what was happening in this scene!

(Trigger warnings for discussion of suicidal mindsets and self-harm)

Okay, so one of the main themes of the fic is that Legend has wings, but was never told why he has them. His Uncle only ever told him to hide them, but never explained why. Maybe he would have, when Legend got older, enough so to understand what was happening, but since he died before that happened, Legend has been in the dark his whole life: he doesn't know he's royal.

Without any answers provided, the natural thing that he does, and which I imagine any other person would have done, is try and determine the reason for himself. He's tried different theories, hence his line "I don't know what I am; a harpy, a demon(...)", because as far as Legend is concerned, it's obvious that he's not a royal, so the only other explanation is that he's not fully hylian, and thus some kind of monster.

As we see repeatedly in his thought process, he genuinely does believe he's some kind of monster, and it's not just self hate or low self-esteem as Groose says, but honestly the only explanation he believes makes sense in his situation. This is only further cemented by the fact that he is fully aware that the circumstances of his childhood are unusual. No one talks much about his parents because his grandparents and uncle were wary about him finding out he was royal before he could understand what that meant for him; they don't want to risk him telling someone else and getting killed. So, the only thing he does know is what he was told when he got to the dark world.

I drew from the manga a lot with this story, especially when it came to the dark world bit (I had read it recently when I wrote this). Legend finds out that "a knight and a lady" had come to the dark world around the time he was a very small child, and they'd lived there with many other lost hylians, turned to beasts like the rest most likely, until one day they just disappeared

(The implications that they're not confirmed dead really had me excited when reading the manga, but Legend did not, in fact, go looking for them, which was a bit of a disappointment for me. I have been tempted to write that for myself, but maybe another time LOL)

Anyways, Legend knows his parents were only ever seen as monsters, so he actually fully believes that that is what they were. I think the above bit really explains his thoughts best:

“Maybe Uncle found me when I was a kid, maybe he saw me and thought I was a Hylian baby who got captured by monsters. Maybe the knights banished my parents and thought they’d saved me. I don’t know for sure(...)"

Legend thoroughly believes he's not hylian, it's become part of his world view and he clings to it firmly, not because he likes it, but because at least it makes sense and is an answer to all the questions he never got to ask. He doesn't like it though. He actually hates that part of himself. He hates the wings because they signify, to him, his faults and failures and the horrible thing he believes himself to be. His wings are, to him, as much a foe and struggle and burden as Ganon or his destiny, so, like with those, he's tried to get rid of them. I only hinted at it in the fic:

 It’s a question he’s asked nearly every night since Uncle pointed them out. “I don’t know. If I could get rid of them, I would, I’ve tried but-”     An injured sounding squawk cuts him off and then all eyes are boring into him, gazes wide and something between fearful and horrified.      “You what?”     “What do you mean you tried-”     “How does one-”     “Legend.” Sky’s voice is heavy, gaze heavier and hands heaviest of all. “What did you do?”     He drops his gaze, tries not to think of the scars that hide under taunting pink, tries not to think of the swords and knives that Zelda begged him to lock up in his basement when she found out he couldn’t even look at them without wanting to-  

but yeah, he definitely made an attempt to try and cut them off at least once, if not more. He also attempted to tear them off when, as he later explains, he lost control of himself and became an actual monster in the dark world. That's that italicized bit; he's remembering being a beast, remembering being a monster, a demon, whatever it was that he saw himself as in that moment.

The reference to blood on his boots is bot another reminder, of all this, but also to show you, the reader, where his eyes are turned now, that he's looking down, that he can't bring himself to look at any of them as he's saying all this.

The next bit though is Legend's love for his uncle. Despite Uncle enforcing his having to hide something that, as a child, he'd thought was beautiful and wonderful and amazing, he doesn't resent the man for it. He believes that the man was just too kind to throw out any child he'd raised as his own, even a monster's. Again, he thinks his wings appearing was a sign of his "evil" nature, and that the reason his uncle was so upset by it was because he'd realized the truth at that moment. This is his love of the man battling with the hate for himself.

Yet, right after, Twilight, who reminds Legend so much of his uncle, speaks up to try and deny it, and Legend, tired of hiding and waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rest to find out, for everyone to just start hating him already, argues back. he wants his truth to be seen and recognized so he can stop fearing what it's results will be, but saying these things to, essentially, his Uncle's face (even if it's actually Twi) is hard for him. Especially as he announces that his dark world form when corrupted is a twisted version of the rancher's own, thus doubling the pain.

When Legend says he expects the arms that close around him, he's sort of expecting that someone is going to try and catch him, hold him back, or down and- well, he's not entirely certain what would have happened if someone had seen his wings before, what Uncle was scared of, but he's not dumb. Legend thoroughly expects one of the others to try and hurt him in this moment.

That's why Sky's embracing him catches him so off guard. He's expecting hate and hurt and pain and also, in a twisted way, the relief of no longer waiting for it all to come. Instead, he's met with acceptance, with worry, with pain not for himself, but for the others as they realize, to various degrees, what's going on here.

Legend may think of Sky as dumb in tis chapter, too sweetly stupid to realize the monster before him, but sky's actually pretty sharp, and he's caught on to what's happening here, and it scares him. It scares him that the id he's gotten so close to is feeling this way, has been feeling this way, and, worst of all, expects it to just keep getting worse, even after they've all done all they can to show him that he's safe with them!

Sky is devastated, and knowing what he knows now; that Legend always feels in danger, his first action is to pull the kid in close where he can protect him, show him kindness, show him care, and maybe also, selfishly, assure himself that Legend failed (he didn't cut his wings off, or worse, kill himself).

In contrast, Legend has lived basically his whole life, or at least the last decade, afraid of this precise moment, the fact that he's doing any of this is just because he's tired of living in fear and wants to get it done and over with (and maybe still doesn't value his life as much as he ought). he's not expecting Sky to immediately try and comfort him, or any of the rest for that matter, but when they do, well, it sort of shatters his perception of the world.

Sky is telling him he's wrong, promising, pleading, and meanwhile, Twilight, who's also been treated like a monster for his dark world form, who knows what it is to hate yourself a little bit for what you become (wolves are predators, wolves are vicious, wolves are feared by children and small animals and everything and everyone that Twilight loves) is sharing his own thoughts. Twilight is telling Legend what he wishes someone would have told him (or maybe once did!). He's telling him that things we can't control like our shape, body, or even the perceptions of others, don't make us evil. he leaves out that actions are what do that, because, well, that's not important to this conversation!

Anyways, there you go! Feathered AU may be one of my old works, but this one at least was a pleasure to revisit. Even for it's faults, I love it dearly, and I guess that's a sign that I need to go re-read it again :)

Hope you enjoyed this analysis, Nan!

[neonlights92]

Flip & Reverse It (II)

Your relationship with resident fuckboy Jung Hoseok is anything but simple. Sitting somewhere between hate and genuine friendship is the fact that you’ve always secretly, sort of wanted him.

And then one day you wake up and you’re in Hoseok’s body. And he’s in yours. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

Genre: rom-com, body swap, (sort of) enemies to lovers

Word count: 10k

Warnings: language and future smut

A/N: I'm baaaaaaack from the dead. Originally, I was going to make this two parts but this story has a mind of it's own. I think part 3 will be the final part. But please enjoooooy <;3

The library, thank God, is almost empty.

Of course it is, Hoseok tells you when you point this out, it’s a fucking Sunday.

Still you’re happy for the peace and quiet when the two of you tuck yourselves into a quiet corner and start scouring books for any kind of answer to your current….predicament.

“There’s nothing here.” Hoseok, at this point, is desperate.  And so are you.

He slams the book he was reading down and turns to you sharply.

“It’s all about how to perform the swapping ritual… But not how to get things back.”

You hate to agree with him, but the truth is he’s right.  You can’t find anything on reversing things, and the later it gets the more hope you lose.

“Maybe we need to read between the lines,” You suggest, “There’s got to be something here…” Hoseok rolls his eyes.  He scoffs.

“There’s nothing.  Some evil fucking force hates me and that’s why I’m here.” You feel a sting in your chest.  Okay, so the situation isn’t ideal, but why is he acting like there’s absolutely nothing worse that could happen to him?

“At least you didn’t swap bodies with a homeless man,” You try to joke but Hoseok is having absolutely none of it.

He pulls a face.

“At least a homeless man doesn’t have a fucking vagina.  What am I supposed to do with that?”

You flush brightly.  Oh my god you hadn’t even thought of that.

Hoseok is most definitely going to have to see you naked.  He’s going to have to touch your naked body - and quite possibly groom it.

“Oh fuck.”  You grunt. 

Hoseok has the decency to look a little apologetic for his tone.  He winces.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, frowning, “I know this is shit for you too.”

You try not to take it personally.  He’s right, after all.

In the long list of awful things to happen to a person this has to be close to the top.  You groan and tug a hand through your hair.

“All I can think is that we have to figure out why this happened.”  You purse your lips, “Like why would the ritual actually work?”

Hoseok looks exactly how you feel: absolutely clueless.  He clicks his tongue and shrugs.

“I don’t know. In that Freaky Friday film the mum and daughter had to learn to accept each other.” 

You bite back a laugh. Hoseok has watched Freaky Friday? 

“Right….”

“I’m just saying.” He rolls his eyes, “if we’re trying to read between the lines then maybe it has something to do with understanding each other.”

“You mean like we need to learn from one another?”

It’s a surprisingly good guess.  Why else would the swap have worked, if not at least to teach you both a lesson?

You had nothing material to gain from this body swap - and neither did Hoseok.  In fact, if anything it made your lives a thousand times more difficult.

It had to be something intangible.  Something like internal growth.

Character development.

“I mean I don’t know what we’d ever learn from each other,” He shrugs, “But it’s worth a shot.”

You bite back the snarky reply that sits on the tip of your tongue. - that you’re not sure you could ever learn anything from him but that he could sure learn a lot from you - and sigh heavily. 

“It’s our only lead at the moment.�� We may as well see if it works.” You watch as Hoseok pulls your face into a scowl.

“This fucking sucks.” 

Just as you open your mouth to say something - probably agree with him - a female voice from somewhere to your left calls out Hoseok’s name.

You watch in horror as Hoseok’s eyes widen, and you feel your heart skip a beat.  He mouths one word ‘Jisoo’, and you nod sharply, turning to face the beautiful tall woman that’s made her way towards the two of  you.

You clear your throat and try to relax, “Hey… Jisoo.” You hope that you read Hoseok’s lips right, and when the woman’s smile widens you relax a little.

“How have you been?”  Her eyes flick towards Hoseok - who is of course sat in your body - and when she turns back to you she has a perfectly plucked brow raised, “Why are you in the library on a Sunday?”

You feel your chest tighten again.  The project.  

“Uh me and Y/N are working on a project together,” You try to smile but you feel queasy, “Ain’t no rest for the wicked, they say.” You can feel Hoseok’s cringe from across the table but you try to ignore how stupid you’ve just made him seem.

“Oh.”  Her eyes brighten a little, and you suddenly realize what’s going on.

She thought you and Hoseok were here together… Out of your own free will.

Like a study date.

She’s jealous.  Your heart pinches. 

“I thought you’d text me after last time,”  She pouts in a way that is entirely too sexy for her own good, “But you never did.  I miss you.”

You notice the way her gaze darkens, and you imagine that this is what seduction looks like.  Not that you’ve ever tried to seduce anyone before.

Clearly.

“Oh well…” You scratch the back of your head in that way that is universal boy code for awkward and cough, “I’ve been busy.  With uh… School.” “And this project,” Hoseok interrupts, smiling anxiously, “We’ve just had next to no time to ourselves.  Isn’t that right, Hoseok?”

You nod sharply, “Yeah.  Yep of course.  No time.”

Jisoo deflates slightly and something clicks.

She’s being ghosted. 

“Oh right.  Well…” She smiles wryly, “I’ll let you get back to it, then.  Bye Hoseok.”  

She turns to Hoseok and gives a little wave, “Bye Y/N.” And your heart breaks for her.  She’s not even mean.

When she saunters off into the abyss of the library you turn to Hoseok and raise an angry brow.

“That was not nice.” He pulls  a face, “It was necessary.  She was sniffing around where she shouldn’t have been.” “You ghosted her.” Hoseok groans.

“So what?  Jisoo’s like, the hottest girl on campus.  She’ll get over it.”

You feel something like anger rise to the surface but you bite it back.

“It’s cruel,” You tell him honestly, “You shouldn’t lead girls on like that.” “Woah.  I do not lead girls on,”  He rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, “I know you think I’m a heartless asshole but I don’t do that.  Girls know what to expect when they sleep with me.  I am a man of zero commitment and I tell them that but they think they can change me.  It’s not my fault they’re wrong.”

“So you told Jisoo?” He frowns, “Told her what?”

“That you’re a man of zero commitment.” He nods decisively, “Of course I did.  A whore I may be, but an asshole I am not.  Every girl I sleep with knows exactly what to expect from me.  Girls like Jisoo think they’re somehow special - that I’ll change my mind and date them.  But that’s just not me.  It sucks that she’s hurt - but she’s only done that to herself.”

You hate to admit it… But he’s kind of right.

Casual sex is just that.  Casual.

Hoseok is well within his right to sleep with whoever he wants - no strings attached - especially if he’s made it explicitly clear things won’t go anywhere.

You feel bad suddenly, for what you said to him the other day - about him being a slut and heartless - but you try and push the guilt to the side.  It’s not your fault he’d never explained things to you before.

“Maybe that’s what I could teach you.” Hoseok cocks his head, “What?”

You sigh.

“Commitment.” When he snorts out a laugh you hate how much the sound warms your heart.

“I doubt that.”  He tells you, shrugging, “I don’t need commitment and frankly… I don’t want it either.” 

“Ah.  I see.” 

He raises a brow, “What do you see? “

You shrug.

“You’ve got commitment issues.” 

For a moment it seems like he might be angry at you.  His eyes darken and his brow furrows.  Then he relaxes and blows out a raspberry.

“Yeah.  Maybe I do.  But don’t most people our age have commitment issues?”

“Most guys,” You correct, “Yeah.  I guess so.” 

You can’t help that your stomach drops at the realization.  Even though you’ll never admit it to anyone… You always sort of hoped Hoseok wasn’t actually emotionally stunted.  That he had the capacity to grow and change.  To love someone.

(To love you.) 

But now you see that’s probably not the case. 

He’s emotionally unavailable.  And he seems to like it that way. 

At some point Hoseok turns back to the pile of books sitting between the two of you, and you try to ignore the way your heart just keeps sinking and sinking. 

“This is hopeless.”  He groans, flicking a hand through his hair. 

You look up, chest tight. 

“Yeah.  It is.” 

But you have a feeling you’re not talking about the same thing anymore.

//

It’s four hours later that the both of you give up. 

“So now what?” You’re currently sitting opposite each other at a twenty-four hour coffee shop when Hoseok asks you the question.  He’s ordered an Americano (at eight o’clock at night what a psycho) and you’re sipping on mint tea.

“I don’t know.”  The tears climb up your throat but you push them down, “I really don’t.  This is so fucked up.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

He seems on the verge of tears too, and you try your best to keep it together. 

When you woke up in Hoseok’s body this morning the first thing that registered was shock.  Then you moved on to denial.

Now you’re just frustrated.  Is this going to be the rest of your life?  Will you never be yourself again? 

You can barely understand the position you’ve found yourself in, but for some absurd reason it’s real and you hate whatever magic, or being or otherworldly powers put you here.

“I guess we have to try the Freaky Friday thing.”  Hoseok announces, desperate, “We have to try and learn something from each other.” 

“And how, pray tell, are we going to do that?” 

Hoseok narrows his eyes, “Can you just - can you just stop being so patronizing for like five seconds?  We’re in the same fucking boat here.  We  have nothing else to go on.  I’m trying to help.”

You feel like a fucking bitch.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, that ugly spider of guilt crawls up your tummy into your throat. 

You don’t know what it is about Hoseok that makes you act this way - so angry and judgemental - but in the back of your mind you worry that it’s your complicated feelings for him. 

You hate how he makes you feel.  You hate that you’ve always sort of wanted him and he doesn’t want you back. 

But you hate even more that you’re being so unfair.

“You’re right.”  You nod, “You’re right.  I’m being a bitch.  I’m sorry Hoseok.” 

The words seem to take him aback.  He stares at you for a moment, and then releases a long breath.

“Good.  Fine.  Great.  Let’s - I don’t know.  Let’s brainstorm?” 

You open your mouth to ask just exactly what he wants to brainstorm, when your cell phone starts ringing.  It’s jammed into the pocket of Hoseok’s shorts (the ones you’re currently wearing of course) and you bring it out quickly, passing it to Hoseok himself. 

“You need to pick it up.”  You tell him.

He groans, “What?” “It’s Sana.  She’s probably calling to ask about game night.”

“Oh shit.  God forbid you miss game night.” “Hoseok…”

He rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, “Fine.  Okay.  But I’m putting it on speaker.”

He accepts the call quickly, and after a moment of shuffling around, Sana’s voice bleeds through. 

“Hello?  Y/N?” “Hi.  Yeah.  Hi Sana,” Hoseok tries to sound bright and cheerful - not at all like someone who’s just swapped bodies with their sort-of enemy. 

“Where are you?  The boys have just arrived.  We’re meant to start at eight.” 

“The boys?”  The question slips out of Hoseok unbidden.  He raises a brow. 

“Yeah.  Joon, Jimin and Jungkook…” The last name is said with a hint of teasing, “Y’know Jungkook’s been asking about you for the last twenty minutes.  He said he can’t wait to play a game of monopoly with you.” 

Your heart constricts.  Fucking Sana and her incessant matchmaking.

You’ve told her a thousand times that even though he’s nice and handsome, you don’t want to get with Jungkook, but she seems hellbent on setting you up with someone.

God forbid you’re still single at twenty-one.  In Sana’s eyes, you’re practically a spinster. 

“Oh.”  Hoseok’s eyes meet yours and he smirks teasingly, “Well… I wouldn’t want to keep Jungkook waiting.”

No.  No, no, no, nooooo.

“No you wouldn’t!”  You can hear the smirk in Sana’s voice too, “So get your ass over here.” You know exactly what Hoseok trying to do.  You can see it all playing back, in the corner of his annoyingly devious mind. 

“I’m coming too!”  The words blurt out of you before you can even stop them, “Hi Sana.  It’s Hoseok.  I’m uh - Y/N invited me to game night before.  So I’m going to come too.  Y’know.  I love monopoly.” There is a beat of thick silence.  You cringe, and watch Hoseok’s eyes widen. 

Then Sana clears her throat.

“Oh Hobi… Yeah, yeah of course.  Feel free.  You guys have spent all day on that project right?”

“We have,”  You reply, “And I uh - I need to relax.  So… Monopoly sounds great.”  And then to make it a little bit more believable you add, “Joon and Jimin are there too, right?” “Yeah.  We’re just ordering pizza.  You guys okay with margarita?” “Sounds great.  We’ll uh - we’ll be there soon.” 

You grab the phone from Hoseok quickly and hang up before Sana can even reply.  Hoseok leans back in his chair, staring at you. 

“What are you doing?”  He asks, crossing his arms.

“What are you doing?”  You squeal, “Are you trying to fuck me over?” 

“Excuse me?” “I saw right through that.”  You claim, scrambling to your feet, “I don’t have a crush on Jungkook.” He holds both hands up, coming to stand too, “I never said you did.”

“So why were you - why were you smiling like that?” “Like what?” “Like you - like you…” You feel your cheeks redden and you wonder for a moment if you’re overreacting, “Like you were going to flirt with him.” There is a moment of almost unbearable silence. 

Hoseok’s expression morphs from surprise… Into teasing.  There it is again.  That fucking smirk.

Even when it’s on your face, you know exactly what he means by it.  And you hate that.  

“Oh heavens no.”  He barks out a laugh, “God forbid I flirt with him.”

You blush even hotter then, realizing how positively juvenile you sound and despising yourself for it.  You try to string together a sentence, but you just can’t, so you do the next best thing and walk out of the coffee shop. 

Hoseok follows you of course, but at least the crisp evening air cuts through the heat of your embarrassment.

“I didn’t realize you had a friend, Y/N.”  Hoseok continues to tease as you make your way towards his car.

“I don’t.”  You tell him decidedly. 

“So then why does Sana think you do?” “Because she’s an idiot.” 

“Is she?” “Yes!” You cry, exasperated, “She tries to set me up with everything that has a heartbeat because she seems to think the only way I can love myself is through male validation.  But I’m perfectly happy on my own.  Maybe you don’t believe that, and I don’t care if you do but it’s true.  I don’t like Jungkook.”

The rant has come out in almost one breath, and you feel lightheaded by the end of it. 

You’re not sure why you’re so adamant on proving to Hoseok that you don’t have feelings for Jungkook, but you figure it has to do with your tiny, little crush on the man currently inhabiting your body.

You hate yourself for it but the candle you held for Jung Hoseok never really snuffed out did it? 

“Hey.” He lowers his voice and you pause, turning to face him.  His expression is soft now.

“I didn’t - I was just teasing.”  He tells you sincerely, “I wasn’t going to flirt with Jungkook, I swear.  I won’t flirt with him.” You nod once.  Sharply.

“Okay.” “And you’re right,” He sighs, “You don’t need any man to make you happy, Y/N.”

“I know.” He nods too.  

“Good.” 

A beat of silence softens the atmosphere.  Then Hoseok gestures towards his car. 

“C’mon.  Let’s go.  We’ll take my car.” 

You regret mentioning the fact that his car is now your car technically, and instead follow him that way. 

This is going to be a long night.

//

You’re right.

It is a long night. 

Jungkook, of course, spends all night flirting with you.  Well, he spends all night flirting with Hoseok but he thinks it's you and who can blame him, really? You feel yourself on edge the whole time, eyes flitting between the two of them the entire night.  Hoseok, in his defense, doesn’t really flirt back.  He smiles and laughs, and a couple of times he pats Jungkook’s knee, but for the most part it’s all been entirely platonic.

At some point you decide enough is enough, you need a break, so you stand up and announce you’re going to grab another beer.

“The kitchen’s right through there,” Sana tells you, because of course she thinks this is like your second time in your own house.  Because you’re Hoseok aren’t you? Except your brain is still yours and you feel like you might very well just implode on the spot.

Fuck.  That migraine is coming back. 

Hoseok meets your eyes as you stand and you flick your gaze away.  Stop looking at him, you tell yourself sternly. 

Namjoon decides to accompany you that way, and you try to encourage yourself.  You are Jung Hoseok.  You are a casanova.  You are a Beta Theta Sigma member.  You are hot and you are a man.

“What was that back there?”  Namjoon asks the moment the two of you step into the kitchen.

“Excuse me?” “That,”  He opens the fridge and grabs a couple of bottles, “If you stared any harder, Y/N would have burst into flames..”

“Oh.” 

“Are you… Jealous?”  Namjoon sounds unsure, even as he suggests it.

“Jealous?” “Of Jungkook and Y/N.”  He clarifies, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I mean…I thought you didn’t even like her.”

“I do.”  You shake your head, “No wait.  No I don’t.” “You don’t?” “It’s uh… It’s complicated.”

Namjoon furrows his brow.  He licks his bottom lip slowly and takes a swig of his beer.

“I can tell Jungkook to back off.” 

“No!  Don’t do that,”  You cross your arms, “Y/N isnt… She isn’t property.  She can - she can flirt with whoever she wants.”

Namjoon scowls.  He seems incredibly confused and you don’t blame him. 

“What?” “I just mean…” You blow out a long breath, “I’m not jealous Joon.  Really.  I just - I’m keeping an eye on her.  For the project.” “Right.”  Namjoon lifts a dubious brow, “For the project.” You’re aware of how utterly ridiculous this sounds.  But you can’t have anyone thinking Hoseok has feelings for you.  No matter how much a part of you wishes he might, that would only complicate things further when the two of you eventually do switch back. 

“Jungkook’s nice though.  Can’t believe this is my first time meeting him.” 

You’d asked Hoseok earlier if he’d ever met Namjoon’s little brother, and were surprised when he told you he hadn’t.  With the amount of times Jungkook visited, you assumed their paths would have crossed.

“Well he’s not really into frats,” Namjoon replies honestly, “Plus he only ever really comes around to hang out with Y/N.  He’s pretty into her.” “Yeah.  I can tell.” The words sound jealous again, and you wish you could take them back.  Namjoon doesn’t say anything though, and then Hoseok appears in the kitchen door frame, halting all Jungkook related conversation. 

“Hi.”  He smiles at Namjoon and then his eyes fall on you, “Hey.” “Hey.”  You greet back, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Can I get one of those?”  He asks, and you grab him a beer. 

“So…” Namjoon grins, “Jungkook?” You wait with baited breath.  Hoseok promised he wouldn’t flirt - but you’re not sure how capable he is of keeping that promise.  Is he going to fuck you over?  Make it seem like you’re into Jungkook so that if (and when) the swap happens you’ll have an awkward encounter to clean up after?

“What?”  Hoseok shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Are you into him?” 

You bite your bottom lip and Hoseok's eyes flick towards yours. 

The atmosphere thickens.

“No,” You let out a huge sigh of relief at Hoseok’s answer, and Namjoon turns to you again. 

Damn.  That just made it seem a whole lot like you were jealous.

“We should - we should get back to the game.”  You interrupt quickly, not really in the mood for any more of Namjoon’s needling, “I don’t trust Sana on her own in there.” 

Namjoon turns to you, expression unreadable and shrugs. 

“Yeah.  Let’s uh - let’s go.” 

He leads the way and you trail after, hanging back slightly to turn to Hoseok and whisper a rushed thank you.  His eyes meet yours and he smiles.

“Yeah.  Don’t mention it.”

When the two of you join the others in the living room again, Namjoon is still sending you confused looks, but you ignore it, taking your seat beside Jimin and trying to relax the best you can. 

“You’re losing, just so you know.”  Jimin informs you, delighted.

You laugh at that, shaking your head.  You’re not sure how good or not Hoseok usually is at monopoly, but tonight he’s losing because quite frankly you suck at it.

“I know.” “This is a first I think,”  He narrows his eyes, “You’re usually more of a sore loser.” You shrug, and try to grin, “I’m trying to be gracious.” “Mmmm.”  He still seems dubious, “If you say so.”

You open your mouth to retort with something - you’re not sure what - when the sound of someone sitting beside you stops you short.  You turn, watching as Hoseok settles into the seat to your left. 

“Oh.” Hoseok smiles, “Hi.” “You were sat beside Jungkook before, Y/N,” Sana tells Hoseok, eyes teasing as she flicks her gaze towards Namjoon’s brother.

Jungkook, in his defense, doesn’t seem offended.

“Yeah well now I’m sat beside Hoseok,” He says easily, “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

There is another awkward beat of silence because what the fuck, but when you meet Hoseok’s gaze you know he’s only trying to help.  If he sits beside you, then Jungkook will likely leave him alone for the rest of night, and nobody will make assumptions about the nature of your relationship with Namjoon’s little brother.

Crisis averted.  Right? 

Nobody says anything for a moment or two, before Jimin clears his throat.

“Ah no.  No I guess not.  We’ll just shuffle the board around.”

You nod, but you’re not really concentrating on anything else that’s going on. 

Because once again, Jung Hoseok has left you absolutely speechless.

//

The next morning, you wake up bright and early.  In Hoseok’s bed. 

For a moment, you forget that you’re currently inhabiting somebody else's body.  But when your eyes blink the sleep away, you remember and you want to cry all over again.

You spent all night replaying Hoseok’s act of kindness - the way he swapped seats without worrying about what the rest of your friends would think - and your heart speeds up.

No, no, no.  This is not good for you.

You’ve been down this rabbit hole before, and it only brought you heartache.

You try and focus on something else - like all the fucking classes you’re going to have to take for Hoseok - and you pick up his phone, unlocking it and opening up the timetable he sent you last night. 

He’s in the majority of your classes, which you guess is a good thing, as the two of you can try and stick together as much as possible until you figure this whole thing out…. But there are still some you’re going to have to take alone. 

Fuck.  This.

A knock at the door brings you out of your slightly depressive episode. 

“Hoseok!”  It sounds like Taehyung, “Hey.  Hoseok.  Can I come in?”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to burrow into the sheets of Hoseok’s bed and spend the rest of the week there, but you know that isn’t an option.  You sigh heavily.

“Yeah, yeah.  Come in”.

The door swings open and Taehyung stands right in the middle of the frame, wearing a pair of low slung basketball shorts and nothing else.  You note - not for the first time - how annoyingly attractive he is.

“You have a visitor.”  Today he nurses a cup of coffee.

The smell makes it's way to your nose and you groan.  Damn you could really use some caffeine right now.

“Wait what? A visitor?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung’s eyes narrow, “It’s that Y/N chick.”

“Oh.”

You pick up Hoseok’s phone and check the time - eight fifteen - before turning back to Taehyung.  He is giving you the snarkiest look of all time and you scoff.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” He steps into Hoseok’s room further and leans against the wall, “Are you fucking her?” 

You sit up quickly, gasping.

“What?  No?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes, “Then what the fuck is she doing here at eight o’clock on a Monday morning?”

“The… Uh… The project.” 

You scramble up, thankful that you stumbled into a full set of pajamas last night before bed.  You’ve somehow managed to avoid seeing Hoseok naked as of yet but you know it’s only a matter of time.

You hate to think of what Hoseok will think when he sees you naked.  Maybe he already has.

You push that thought away.

“The project?” Taehyung snorts, “Do you think I was born yesterday?” “What?”

“Hoseok, when have you ever cared this much about any project before?  You’re fucking her.”  His eyes widen, “Oh my god.  You’re revenge fucking her.” Your cheeks heat up, “No I am not.  I told you, Taehyung.  It’s the project.” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Right… The project.” 

You decide there’s no point in arguing with him.  He’s made up his mind -clearly- and you don’t want to think how many times Hoseok has been in this position before for Taehyung to so easily come to that conclusion.

“Where is she?”

He smirks, “Kitchen.”

You stalk of out Hoseok’s bedroom without another word, making your way towards the kitchen and stopping at the sight of your form sitting at the counter.

Hoseok hasn’t quite mastered the art of sitting like a girl yet, but you don’t blame him.  Your legs are pulled slightly apart, and your torso hangs forward, like a football coach deciding his team's next move. 

Hoseok scrolls through your cell phone and you wonder for a moment, if this is what you look like to everyone else.  The posture of course is all off… But the rest of it.  The rest of it is you, isn’t it? 

“Morning!” You chirp happily, “Buddy!” 

Immediately, you regret that choice of word.  Buddy.  You were going for platonic, but you landed on weird. 

Hoseok turns to you and smiles, albeit a little stiffly, “Hi… Friend.” You know he’s teasing you back, but you decide to ignore it.

“What are you doing here so bright and early?” 

For the first time since you saw him, you take note of what Hoseok has decided to dress your body in. 

A pair of high waisted jeans, a crop top that you think you wore once when you were like eighteen, and platform sandals you bought for a halloween costume.

Great.  Fantastic. 

Splendid.

“I thought we could walk to campus together and discuss…” Hoseok’s eyes flick towards Taehyung who is (not so discreetly) eavesdropping on your conversation, “The project.” “Ah yes.  The project.” 

Taehyung scoffs and you turn sharply to send him a raised brow of indignance.  He is being impossible.  He shrugs and turns away, making his way back down the hallway and towards his room.  

When you’re sure you and Hoseok are alone you let out a deep, calming breath.

“He thinks we’re fucking.”  You tell him bluntly.

Hoseok snorts, “What?” “Taehyung thinks we’re fucking.  And I’m pretty sure Namjoon and Jimin think it too.”

“Add Sana onto that list,” He pouts, “She interrogated me over our relationship for almost two hours last night, after the rest of you left.  My God.”

You shiver to think what Sana may have said to Hoseok last night - how she may have inadvertently embarrassed you. 

It’s not her fault of course, but considering how convinced she’s always been of your romantic feelings for Hoseok, you don’t doubt she spent the entire evening teasing him for it.

Fuuuuuck.

“I’m sorry.”  You say, because you’re not sure what else may suffice.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Don’t apologise.  It isn’t your fault.” 

“Right.” 

“Maybe we should… I don’t know,” His cheeks heat slightly, and his eyes flicker momentarily towards yours.  Then he takes a deep breath, “Maybe we should roll with it.”

“What?” “The whole… Us dating thing.  Just for now, till we figure this whole thing out.  It would make it easier to explain why we are spending so much time together.” 

You feel like the entire world  has just turned upside down.  Your heart is in your throat, beating so loudly it’s the only thing you can hear, and suddenly everything seems like it’s moving in slow motion.

You squeeze your eyes shut a second and shake your head.  When you open your lids, Hoseok is staring at you expectantly. 

“You want to… You want to pretend we’re together?” 

“Well yeah,” He shrugs, “It’s like I say - then people won’t be so freaked out about the amount of time we spend with one another.” “But what about the party… All your friends saw us fight… And I was a bitch to you-” 

“We’ll say you apologised.  We talked about it and realized we were into one another.  Stranger things have happened, right?” 

He seems so nonchalant about it.  And where you’re freaking the fuck out, he’s shrugging his shoulders as though it’s no big deal. 

“But you - you don’t want a relationship.  You said you’re a man of zero commitment…”

“Well this isn’t real is it?” He sighs heavily, “Besides, it’s just until we’ve figured out how to put everything back to normal.”

You might throw up. 

“I - I mean…” “Plus it’s not like I’m going to be getting any action whilst I’m in your body, right?  Win win.”  He smiles warmly, and for a moment you’re completely taken aback.

What the fuck are you meant to say?

“I guess.  I mean… Okay.”  You lick your bottom lip and tug a hand through your hair, pulling at the ends of Hoseok’s short strands, “Yes.  Okay fine.  It’s a good idea.”

“Great.” 

You blink.  Once, twice, three times.

The atmosphere shifts.

“Is that… Is that all you came round for?” 

“I thought we could walk to class this morning.  Really cement our whole new couple thing.  We’ve got first period  together, right?” 

Your mouth is so dry, it might as well be a desert, but you force yourself to nod.

When the fuck did this become the timeline you are living in?

“Cool.  So… I guess… Get ready?  I’ll wait here.  I’m still trying to figure these shoes out without breaking my neck.  Your neck,”  He wrinkles his nose, “Our neck.”

You snort a laugh at that, “Okay.  Cool.  Yeah… I’ll uh - I’ll see you now.” It’s only later, when you force yourself to a take a shower (despite having to face Hoseok’s naked body and trying your utmost to respect his privacy and not check out his bits) that the reality of what has happened to you in the last twenty-four hours truly hits you.

Not only are you currently inhabiting Hoseok’s body.

But you’re his girlfriend too now.  (Fake girlfriend, technically speaking but… That’s semantics.) 

Shit.

//

Your first day at college as Jung Hoseok goes awfully. 

Of course it does. What else were you expecting? 

It’s hard enough trying to keep up with all his classes and friend’s names and his fucking schedule.  But the worst part of everything - the part you can’t stand - is the questions.

“Are you really dating that Y/N chick?” 

“I thought the two of you hated each other.”“Never would’ve pegged you for a nerd guy.”

You hate it all - the assumption that you and Hoseok don’t make sense as a couple - but what else can you do but grin and bear it? 

They’re kind of right, too really.  You and Hoseok don’t really make sense.

You try to tell him this yourself, when you walk him home after the last of your classes, but he’s having none of it.

“Will you quit it?” He tells you seriously, eyes narrowing at the insecurity written all over your face, “Who gives a fuck what any of them think, anyway?”

“I do. Clearly.” You grumble feeling dumb for having even brought it up in the first place.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah and why’s that?”

“Because I’m dumb and insecure?” You shrug helplessly, “I don’t know Hoseok.  People are probably already talking so much shit about me.”

“This isn’t high school.” 

“So?  People are still mean.”  You sigh heavily, “You don’t get it Hoseok.  I’m not cool.  I’ve never been cool.  Everyone is going to wonder why the fuck you decided to settle down with me of all people.” 

Hoseok pauses, and turns to look at you.  The fact he’s dressed you in platforms means the height difference between the two of you isn’t as large as it normally is, but he still needs to tilt his head up slightly to make eye contact. 

“And if they ask you’ll tell them I chose you because you’re smart and capable and pretty.”  His eyes are serious, “And I like you.  You make me laugh and you don’t take my shit.  Plus you’re the only person I know who actually gives a fuck about getting their degree.  It’s admirable.” The words almost cause a heart attack.  It’s a punch to the gut - does he really think those things about you? - and for a moment you don’t know what to say.

“Oh… Uh…” 

“And when they ask me why you chose to date me… I’ll say because Jung Hoseok is a sex god and a filthy, dirty fuck.”  He smiles widely, “Gotta retain at least a little bit of my reputation, right?”

You burst out laughing at that, unable to control yourself.  Hoseok laughs too, and for a moment it feels like the two of you might be caught under something. 

The way he’s looking at you - soft and warm, like he’s happy to be there - makes your heart clench and you remind yourself once again that he isn’t yours.  He isn’t yours and he’s only here because he’s in your fucking body.

“Alright.  I’ll let you have that at least,” You mumble back, as the two of you stop outside of your apartment block. 

“Well,” He throws you an easy smile, “This is my stop.”

You click your tongue, “Yep.”

“I’ll see you tonight, right?”

When you draw a blank look Hoseok groans.

“The party, remember?” 

You feel something flicker in your stomach.  The stupid fucking party at the EXO frat, you’d agreed to go to.  

“Do we have to...?”

“If we don’t, it will be harder to go to the next social gathering I'm invited to.  We have to keep up appearances.”  He seems sympathetic as he says it and you know he has a point.

The quicker you bite the bullet, the easier it will be to fool everyone else that you’re actually into each other.

But that doesn’t mean you like the idea.

“Can’t I just say I’m sick?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue, “Look, it's a great excuse for us to show we’re a solid couple, right?”

You stop yourself from actually sticking your tongue out at him and instead settle on a playful glare. 

“Fine. But I’m not going to enjoy myself.”

“Duly noted,” Hoseok replies drily, “I’ll ask Sana. She’s probably already going with Joon.”

You hum some kind of half hearted agreement. 

“It's going to be fine, Y/N trust me.”

You feel exhausted all of a sudden.  Is this going to be the rest of your life?  Figuring out ways to hoodwink your friends and family into believing something that isn’t true?  Pretending to be somebody else? Having to live a life that isn’t yours?

“Are we ever going to be able to swap back?” The question is small, and you feel so dumb asking it because how can Hoseok give you an answer? 

Hoseok gives you a small, comforting smile.  He touches your shoulder gently and nods.

“We’ll figure it out.  We’re not going to stay like this forever.”

You want to believe him.  With everything inside of you, you want to believe that you can both fix this.

But you’re not sure of anything anymore, least of all if you’ll ever live in your own skin again.

“Just… don’t give up, okay?” He’s looking at you so earnestly your heart almost breaks. You nod, silently, biting back the tears.

“I won’t.”  And without even thinking about it, you bend down and press a soft kiss against Hoseok’s forehead.  Well… it’s your forehead really, but at this point the semantics don’t matter.

Hoseok freezes, but you don’t miss the way he leans ever so gently into the touch.  You try to tell yourself you were just imagining things but part of you can’t really deny it. 

When you pull away, he’s watching you with careful eyes.

“I’ll see you tonight,” You tell him, straightening out almost stiffly, “At the party.”

Hoseok smiles and nods.

“Yeah.  See you later.”

You think that perhaps, today hasn’t actually been that awful.  That maybe, maybe by the end of all this you and Hoseok might actually be friends.  The thought warms your heart.

Friends with Hoseok.  You know secretly you want more, but there’s no denying the impossibility of that ever happening.

So you resign yourself to hope for friendship.   And something soft blooms in your chest.  

It isn’t until you get back to Hoseok’s home that you are spun quite immediately back into reality.  The look on Kim Taehyung’s face when you pass through the front door is enough to make you want to curl up in a hole and die.

“I fucking knew it.  You’re banging her!”

Jin stands to Taehyung’s left, a dark brow raised.  His arms are crossed and he watches you curiously.

“I’m not banging her…” You grumble, “She’s my girlfriend.” “Same difference.”  Taehyung is grinning like the cat who got the fucking cream, “I knew there was something else going on.” 

“I thought relationships weren’t your thing,” This comes from Jin, who’s still giving you that weird look.

You shrug, “Well it’s different.  With Y/N.” “It is?” “Yeah.  She’s different.” You almost cringe at your own words - but there’s nothing you can do it about it.  God knows Jung Hoseok has definitely established his position as resident fuckboy pretty firmly by now - but things change, right?

“Don’t tell me you guys are like seriously exclusive?”  Taehyung looks like he might pass out.

“Uh… Yeah.  Exclusive.” “Fuck.”  He scoffs out a laugh that is sharp as knives, “Shit.  You’re really into her.” Another nod.  Taehyung turns to Jin and shrugs.

“Twenty bucks then, right?”

Jin’s lips lift into a smirk.  You frown.

“What?” “Me and Jin had a bet after that night,” Taehyung says this so easily as though it isn’t a big deal.  But it is, you think, “The party where the two of you fought.  You were so clearly into her.  I thought you’d fuck her.  Jin thought you’d make her your girlfriend.  He won.”

You are floored.  Hoseok’s friends think he’s into you?  Like for real?

You don’t know what to say.

“What are you talking about?” “Well for one she’s the only girl on this entire campus you haven’t tried to fuck,” Taehyung points out almost studiously, “And whenever you do talk to her, you get all weird.  Like you’re trying to impress her.”

You feel yourself flush because what the fuck?

“You’re - I… What?”

“C’mon don’t play dumb.”  Taehyung fishes into his back pocket for his wallet, “After that night at the party you were so pissed.  That’s only because you liked her enough to actually care what she thinks about you.”

Jin accepts the twenty dollar bill Taehyung passes him, “And we were right, obviously.  Because she’s your girlfriend now.”

The tightness in your chest expands.

“Uh… I mean yeah.  I guess.”

“She’s coming to the party tonight, right?”  Jin’s question surprises you.

You nod and Taehyung grunts.

“Good.  She can try and change my mind about her then.”

You resist the urge to tell him to fuck off.  After all, the last time Taehyung had seen you around his best friend you hadn’t exactly behaved spotlessly, had you? 

“I’m sure she will.”  You mutter to yourself more than anything, “I am sure she’ll change your mind.”

//

The party is throbbing by the time you and Hoseok arrive. He’s stuffed you into one of Sana’s ridiculous minidresses and when you ask where on Earth he thought he was going he just shrugged and told you to chill out.

“I hate this already,” You mutter, feeling incredibly out of place.

“Well Jung Hoseok is usually the life and soul of any party so start un-hating it.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and let Hoseok slip his hand into yours. It feels weird, holding your own hand like this, but you can’t contain the butterflies swarming around your stomach either.

Even if you can’t fully enjoy it - Hoseok is currently holding your hand - and you can admit to yourself that you’d always wanted that.

Always wanted him.

God you’re a chump.

“Y/N!” Sana’s voice pierces through the crowd and you look up, trying to act nonchalant as she cuts her way through the mob of drunk college students.

“Hi Hoseok!”

You nod when she smiles up at you.

“You want to come join us? We’re playing ring of fire.”

You know what you want to say. You want to say fuck no. You can’t think of anything worse to play five minutes after arriving at a party, than ring of fire.

But you force a lazy smile onto your face and shrug, turning to Hoseok and raising a brow.

“Wanna play… babe?” The pet name comes out a little stilted, but it seems to do the job because Sana stifles a giggle.

Hoseok narrows your eyes a little, but he smiles just the same, turning on the charm.

“Anything you want… cupcake.”

You gag in your mouth because what the fuck? Cupcake? You would never reduce yourself to calling somebody something that gross but you force yourself to laugh.

“Okay then. Let’s play.”

Sana laughs too, and if she senses the weird energy between the two of you, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she moves you both across the room into a smaller space - a room that could be considered a dining area if it wasn’t in a frat house.

“You know I’ve been getting questions about the two of you all night,” She throws over her shoulder as she leads the way, “All anybody seems to care about is the hottest couple on campus.”

Her tone is teasing, and you’d heard from Hoseok that Sana had been ruthless when he’d told her that the two of you were a couple.

You didn’t want to think about how she might have potentially embarrassed you.

“We are not the hottest couple on campus,” The words blurt out of you almost automatically and Sana snorts.

“According to most people I’ve spoken to at this party you are.” She shakes her head, “People can’t seem to wrap their puny little minds around it.”

“That’s because they’ve never been around the two of us when we’re together,” Hoseok pipes up, surprising you, “We’re perfect for each other.”

Your chest tightens again and you wonder if you might very well hyperventilate. Is he trying to kill you? 

“That’s what I told them! You balance each other well, I think,” Sana sits at a huge round table and you take a seat to the left of her, “I always knew you had the hots for each other.”

Your eyes flicker to Hoseok as he sits to the left of you, and he holds your gaze steady.  Breathe, he mouths. 

Something about his presence calms you, despite how erratic you might feel inside, and you let yourself sink into the cushion of the chair you’re sat on. 

“Well look who it is!  The looooooovebirds!”  Your eyes flick up to meet with a tall, slim man with charcoal gray hair.  A memory flickers in your mind; he’s a member of EXO right?  Cha-Cha… Cha-something.

“Shut up Chanyeol,” This comes from Namjoon (ah Chanyeol that was it), “Shit.  I forget how obnoxious he gets at these….” 

“Obnoxious my ass,” Chanyeol smiles good-naturedly, “I never thought I’d see the day that Jung Hoseok would be tamed!  And by a woman, no less.” 

You try to roll your eyes in a way you reckon might be reminiscent of Hoseok, and shrug. 

“Not all of us can live in perpetual fuckboy territory, Chanyeol.  I’ll leave the sleeping around to you, now.” 

You pray to the Gods above that Chanyeol doesn’t have a girlfriend and that your joke will land - and sling an easy arm over Hoseok’s shoulder, pulling him closer towards you. 

You press a kiss to the side of his head, and drop your mouth to his ear. 

“He’s single, right?”  You whisper. 

Hoseok nods, once, and you relax.  Thank God.

“Ooooo.  Shots fired.  Didn’t mean to offend you, Hobi.”  But Chanyeol is still smiling as he says it, and you send him a smile right back. 

“Not offended,”  You shrug, “Just… Stating the truth.”

There seems to be a weird tension between the two of you, all of a sudden, and you wonder if maybe Hoseok and Chanyeol are not as buddy buddy as you might have thought.  You feel Hoseok shift beside you. 

“Okay, okay.  Enough with the male testosterone,” Sana whines, “Are we going to play, or are we going to play?” 

Your eyes flick quickly across the table - taking in the others at attendance.  You don’t recognise anybody else apart from one girl who used to live in the same dorms as you freshman year.  Momo, you think her name is.  

“The floor’s all yours, darling.”  Chanyeol smiles wolfishly, and something about that look on his face kind of creeps you out. 

Sana starts rattling on about the rules of the game and you find your attention wavering, before Hoseok brings it to hyper focus by pinching the top of your thigh.  You look down at him.  He’s got a tight smile on his face. 

“Avoid him.” 

You raise a brow, “What?” 

“Chanyeol.”  He pushes closer towards you, “Try not to let him get you alone.  Alright?” 

Your brow creases, “Why?”

“Will you just…” He blows out a raspberry, “Can you just trust me on this?” A moment passes between the two of you.  You watch as Hoseok blinks - once, twice, three times.  Then you nod. 

“Yeah.  Fine.  I’ll - I’ll avoid him.”  

“Everybody understands the rules then, right?”  Sana’s voice cuts through your conversation, and the two of you refocus your attention.  You feel yourself nodding. 

“Perfect.  Then let’s begin!” 

The game starts, and everything goes absolutely downhill from then on.  You try to warn Hoseok several times that you can’t handle alcohol very well - you barely drink it and when you do, you don’t tend to drink the harder stuff.  But Hoseok brushes you off. 

It’s my brain in here, he tells you, I can handle it.

But he can’t of course.  Because his brain or not, it’s a simple case of body chemistry and even though he really tries to keep up with everybody else in the game he just can’t.  At one point, Hoseok flips over the glass of the girl to his left, and tries to apologize before flipping over your drink and causing an even bigger mess. 

“Sweetie,” You grit your teeth together, “I think you’ve had enough.” 

Hoseok turns to you, eyes wide and glassy.  It’s weird to see yourself like this.  Even though it’s not you - not technically - it’s your eyes and your mouth and your bright red cheeks. 

Huh.  So this is what you look like drunk. 

“Uhhhh….” Hoseok hiccups, “I have?” 

You feel something like fondness bubble in your chest.  

“Yeah.  Shall we step out of the game?” 

Momo - that girl who lived in your dorms freshman year - sighs softly, “Shit.  Look at him taking care of her like that.  That’s so romantic.” 

Sana giggles and tries to help Hoseok sit up a little straighter, “It is romantic.”  Her eyes flick to yours, “Maybe you should get her some water?”

“Yeah.”  You stand, grabbing Hoseok’s hand and pulling him up with you, steadying him when he inevitably stumbles into you, “C’mon baby.   Let’s get you some water.” 

Hoseok nods placidly, following you as you tug him towards the kitchen.  There isn’t anybody else in there and you thank god because Hoseok really is a mess right now, and you can’t really focus on anything else but trying to sober him up. 

“Come here.”  You lead him to a bar stool and sit him down, pressing his back against the surface of the kitchen counter, to stop him from toppling over.

Hoseok’s eyes trace your face carefully.  He bites his lip and smiles. 

“Hi.” 

You smile back, “Hi.”

“I’m kind of drunk, right?” 

You nod, “Kinda.” 

“Guess you were right.”  He teeters slightly to the left, and you brace him carefully by the shoulders, “Are you mad?” 

The question takes you by surprise. 

“Why would I be mad?” 

“Because you said I wouldn’t be able to drink so much and I didn’t listen to you.”  He gives you a look that sits somewhere between guilty and cute, and if he wasn’t so drunk you might think he’s trying to flirt with you.

“You never listen to me,” You remind him studiously, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to him, “Here.  Drink up.”

He takes the bottle and brings it up to his mouth, taking a long gulp and pulling away with a dramatic swipe of his mouth when he’s done.  He raises a brow.

“I do listen to you.”  He whines, “What about the project?  I agreed to do what you wanted to do.” 

You purse your lips, “That’s one time.” 

“And Jungkook.”  He squints an eye, “I didn’t flirt with him.”

“Twice, then.”

“I’m sure there’s others,” He says confidently, “I just need to remember them.” 

You laugh when he tries to tap his finger against his temple but fails miserably, using the hand holding the open bottle and spilling water down the front of Sana’s dress, instead. 

“Look what you’ve done now,” You chide, shaking your head fondly.

“Woops?”

“Woops indeed,” You grab some paper towels and dab at the front of the dress, trying to take away as much moisture as possible. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hoseok pushes you away gently, “Are you trying to get into my pants, mister?  I’m not that easy y’know!  I’m a lady.”

He’s smiling now, his eyes a little less glassy, and his face a little less flushed. 

“A lady huh?”

Hoseok tilts his head to the side, studying you carefully - as though he’s seeing you for the very first time, almost.

“Yeah.”  He licks his bottom lip once, “A sexy lady.”

You burst out laughing at that, and Hoseok laughs too, before a throat clears itself loudly to your left.  Your head snaps round and you find Taehyung hovering in the doorway.

“I heard about your girl.”

“I am not his girl,” Hoseok snips, sounding a little too close to home for your liking, “My name is Y/N.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “Hi Y/N.”

Hoseok lifts an enthusiastic hand and waves.

“Hi Taehyung.”

He trails over towards the both of you and crosses his arms, raising a thick brow, “How are you feeling?”

“A little dizzy.” Hoseok hiccups again, “Who knew alcohol could make the room spin that fast?”

Taehyung swallows down a smile and turns to you.

“Maybe you should take her home…”

“But I don’t want to ruin your night,” Hoseok pouts like a baby and you think that might be the very first time your face has ever pulled that expression, “You were having fun, right?”

You shrug. 

“It’s alright.  There’ll be other parties.”

“That’s right there will be,” Hoseok stands, a little wobbly but on two feet at least, “And I’ll be at all of them too right? Because I’m your girlfrieeeeeend.”  

He sings the last syllable of girlfriend - like he’s actually happy about the whole thing.  You try not to think back on what Taehyung and Jin said to you before, about Hoseok always having had a thing for you and snort out a laugh.

“Yeah.  You’ll be at every single one.”

He smiles, self-satisfied, “Good.”

“There’s no one home,” Taehyung whispers to you, laying on the innuendo thick, “Feel free to make as much noise as you’d like….”

You hate the way your cheeks pink at his suggestion and even Hoseok looks a little shy. 

“Taehyung!” Hoseok shoves his friend’s shoulder playfully, “Are you encouraging fornication?  You know we’re not married right?”

Taehyung barks out a laugh at that, unbidden.  He looks sort of annoyed with himself for it.

“I’m just saying,” He says, “The night is young.  Enjoy it.”

You slip your hand into Hoseok’s and tug him towards the front door, “We will.  See you later, Tae.”

“It was nice meeting you again Tae-Tae,” Hoseok christens his friend with a brand new nickname, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the days to come!”

Taehyung does smile at Hoseok then, despite himself, and your heart warms at the fact that he seems to be warming up to you.  And okay, right now it’s not actually you, but he’ll never know that.  And maybe when things go back to normal, and you’re in your own body again, Taehyung will still like you. 

(You try not to think too hard on why you want Hoseok’s best friend’s validation that much.)

“See you guys!”

God.  This night is really turning into something else.

//

“I can sleep on the couch.”

Hoseok looks like he might throw up.  You’d decided to bring him back to his own home.  It didn’t make sense not to take Taehyung up on his suggestion that you take advantage of the empty BTS frat home. 

The two of you are meant to be dating, after all, and if you ended up staying in separate rooms for the night it just wouldn’t really make sense.   Not with how drunk Hoseok had gotten at the EXO party, anyway.

Of course, you aren’t exactly following through on Taehyung’s insinuation to make things… sexual.  But he doesn’t have to know that.

“You’re not going to sleep on the couch in your own home.” You tell him sternly, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Hoseok shakes his head sharply.  He groans.

“That’s going to look weird when the boys get back.  They’ll wonder why we didn’t just sleep together.”

Hoseok’s bed isn’t tiny, but it’s not huge either.  There’s room for the two of you, you suppose, but you can’t imagine it’ll be the most spacious of sleeping conditions.

“Fine,” You set your jaw despite the way your heart trips in your chest at what you’re about to suggest, “We’ll just share.”

Hoseok turns to you, eyes wide.  He seems to contemplate that for a moment, before shrugging.

“Sure.  Let’s share.”

There’s a moment of almost awkward silence, where the two of you just stare at each other.

“We should… Get comfortable?”  You smile weakly and Hoseok pulls a face.

“This is fucking weird isn’t it?”

You snort violently, “So so weird.”

His eyes zip over to the closet and you lick your bottom lip, nodding.  Are you going to change in front of each other? 

Not that seeing your own naked body would freak you out, but you’ve attempted to avoid making eye contact with Hoseok’s bits as best you can the last couple of days.  It seems redundant, almost, to ask each other for privacy.

“I’ll go first.”  Hoseok announces, zipping over to the closet and wordlessly pulling out an old AC/DC t-shirt.  

“Are you going to just…. Do it here?”

Your question comes out as an insecure squeak.  He turns to you and sighs heavily.

“I mean, if I go to the bathroom what difference does it make?  It’s your body, anyway.”

You nod, speechless.  He’s right but the whole thing just feels weird.

Something in the atmosphere shifts, as Hoseok pulls himself out of Sana’s skintight dress.  He struggles with the zipper and you bite back a chuckle, moving towards him and stilling his hands.

“Here.” You whisper, “Let me.”

Hoseok meets your eyes as you pull the zip down, slowly exposing the expanse of skin that is your back.  He freezes for a moment, eye contact held for what feels like eternity.

And then, he steps out of the dress.

Hoseok opted not to wear a bra.  Of course he did.  Sana would have told him off for even attempting it.

“You uh….” He’s still staring at you, “You can pull this over my head.”  He holds the t-shirt out, “I won’t look.”

The sentiment pulls at your heart.  

“Okay,” You breathe, taking the t-shirt and folding it over his head.  Hoseok pops his arms out through the holes, and when his head breaks through too, he smiles at you.

Softly.  Gently.  Warmly.

“There.” He whispers.  

Your noses are a hair’s breadth away from one another.

You clear your throat, “There.”

Theres a moment held between the two of you.  Like a spell you’ve been caught under.  Even though you’re looking into your own face, you can see Hoseok shining through your eyes.

He’s there.  He’s there and he’s looking at you and your skin prickles at the way he’s looking at you.

Then, he coughs gently.

The spell is broken and you step back.

“You should change too.”  He tells you, hand scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

You nod and pull your own t-shirt off, pushing down the jeans you opted to wear and leaving Hoseok in a pair of briefs.  He smirks.

“You just gonna sleep in my underwear?”

There’s something burning behind his words.  You bite your lip.

“No.  I’ll put some pants on.”

Hoseok laughs almost throatily as you do so, pulling out the first pajama pants you find.  They’re Christmas themed.

“Those are my favorites,” He tells you as you slip into them, and you scoff playfully.

“Of course they are.”

There is another moment of silence as the two of you contemplate Hoseok’s bed.  You know what comes next.  Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your rib cage when you gesture towards the sheets.

“Should we….?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok smiles softly, “We should.”

The two of you climb in.  It’s a little awkward at first, a mess of limbs and hair.  You can’t imagine Hoseok is used to having to share his bed with someone else, much less with himself.

The thought almost makes you laugh. 

But finally, you settle down.  You roll over and click the bedside lamp off.  You’re both swathed in darkness and you stare up at the black ceiling, feeling ache usted all of a sudden.

“Y/N.”  Hoseok whispers from beside you.

You roll over carefully, and suddenly your noses are touching.  Hoseok doesn’t move away.

“Thanks.”  He breathes gently, “For coming to the party.  And for not getting mad when I got too drunk.”

You feel yourself smile in the dark.

“That’s okay.”

“You’re…” He takes a moment, seemingly searching for the words, “Just.  That’s it, I guess.  Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” You answer softly, feeling like you’re still trapped under that spell, from before. “G’night Hoseok.”

He breathes out softly, and the air hits your cheeks.

“Goodnight.”

And when you fall asleep that night, your dreams are suspiciously void of anything but romance.  You’re falling in love, obviously, and you seem incapable of stopping yourself.

//

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is that there are a pair of soft arms wrapped tightly around your waist.  You look down, across the expanse of Hoseok’s sturdy chest, all the way to the two little hands clasped together in front of you.

The memories of last night come rushing back to you and you smile to yourself, almost embarrassed at the softness the two of you displayed.

You try not to think about Jin and Taehyung’s words.  About how Hoseok has always been into you, and instead focus on the matter at hand.

Because of course Hoseok’s body has reacted quite prominently to the soft female body cuddled up next to him.  You’ve got a boner.

Well Hoseok has a boner.  For you.  

It hurts a little if you think about it too much, but there is undeniable hardness settled between your legs.

“Fuuuuuuck.”  You groan, trying to maneuver yourself out of Hoseok’s grasp, and only causing him to further tighten his hold.

“Hoseok,” You try instead, shaking your body a little more violently, “Hoseok…..”

This time you pinch his forearm - a little forcefully but what else are you meant to do?

And that seems to do the trick, as his eyes shoot open and his arms fall away from your waist.  He jumps up, almost scared, and you laugh at the look on his face.

“Shit.”  He moans, holding a hand to his forehead, “Do you always get hangovers this bad?”

You nod, once, and he grumbles pitifully. 

You notice that the shirt that Hoseok was wearing last night has coincidentally ridden up your thigh, exposing the flesh even further, and without warning Hoseok’s body reacts pretty positively to that.

Which is to say his dick gets harder.

You try not to think about the fact that technically you’re turning yourself on, when Hoseok’s eyes graze the problem you’re having downstairs.  He gasps.

“Shit.” He looks up at you, “Fuck.”

Your cheeks pink and so do his, and the air is suddenly filled with embarrassment.  He tries to apologize.

“Oh fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”  He scoffs, “Little fucker can’t take one day off.”

You laugh at the look on his face, despite yourself, and shrug, “I mean I guess I’m flattered.  At least your dick finds me hot.”

The words fly out of your mouth without warning.  Hoseok’s eyes darken just a little.

“What?”

“I just mean….” You try again, “It’s a compliment really, right?”

He licks his bottom lip, “Yeah.”

His gaze is heated when it meets yours and something in your stomach drops.  Hoseok’s dick hardens even further (if that’s humanly possible) and before you do something crazy - like have sex with yourself - you jump out of bed.

“So I should go and uh… Sort it out.  Will a cold shower help?”

Hoseok crinkles his nose, “Amongst other things….”

You cannot possibly take anymore of his teasing, so you hurry yourself off to the bathroom, intending to stand under a shower of cold water until this boner disappears.  But, of course, God has other plans.

Because just as you slip out of Hoseok’s bedroom, you find Kim Taehyung standing just outside your door, with an older, distinguished looking man.

Taehyung throws you what looks like an apologetic look over the man’s shoulder, as the mystery man in question turns around slowly.  When his eyes meet yours the resemblance is uncanny.

This is Hoseok’s father.

“Hoseok.”  His voice is low and gravelly, almost stern, “Good morning.”

Your spine straightens like a rod.  Your throat dries up impossibly quickly.

“Uh…. Hi.”

“Taehyung tells me you have company this morning.”  His eyes flick down from the top of your head, to the bottom of your feet, “You should invite your girlfriend to have breakfast with us.  We have much to discuss.”

The bedroom door swings open again, and your chest tightens when you feel Hoseok freeze beside you.

Hoseok’s father smiles, shark-like, “Ah.  You must be the elusive Y/N.”

You feel Hoseok swallow, his whole body rigid and stiff.  He tries to smile.

“Uh yeah…. That’s me.”

“I am Hoseok’s father.”  His eyes judge every inch of your body, “But you can call me… Dad.”

The words sound anything but friendly.

Oh fuck.

//

[carmenized-onions]

Yap sheet, live and in color!!

I wrote this as I was reading it, so it very well may be incoherent since I read the chapter almost immediately upon waking up. 😍 OH OH OH before i forget this is going to be really long, so my apologies, BUT !! Can i get put on the taglist? Pretty please 😛 .... wait adding this later I think im already on it 🤔

1.) I can taste what is happening here, i think, and I swear to god, if it ends up that he calls tony, calls ME THE READER, a distraction, I'll cry. Onion, you will have made me cry. Sigh. A dish getting sent back making him all wiggy does make a lot of sense, though, I fear.

2.) "He’s not meant to be a good person. He’s meant to be a good chef." :< i hate u that's so sad and isolating, and so on the nose for Carmy :<

-side note idk why but this :< and :> have become my absolute favorite lil emojis lately so silly

3.) Cue my eyes widening all comical and shit cause ONION "you should be dead" NOOOOOOOOOO L major L cause wtf

This yap sheet is gonna be mega long if i keep doing it like this, I'm ngl. But i think you'll enjoy it, so I might keep it up

4.) Yes, match our clothes to Carmy's eyes... or whatever !!!

5.) Poor Fak. "So Fak is gonna be our server?" "Yessir." "He any good?" "No Sir." And that's so real, actually. Okay, just read more, and Neil really is a small train wreck, and "Oh wow" definitely made me giggle

6.) I feel like im taking notes for class here, and i usually hate taking notes, so that's how you know you've got me by the balls with this story, Onion. Also, this is its own point bc ik ur gonna reply to these in order like this so this is me telling u that if u don't want me to send these this long i will not be offended cause this is gonna be so much. ALSO did this just for u bc I'll see in other asks when ur lamenting abt people not pointing out certain things (I TOTALLY get that btw) and I usually notice them but forget them in my yap sheet cause i do them after the fact so :> also this point is so long now okay this backfired on me.

7.) NOT TONY REFERRING TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS A RESERVATION thats so silly. I love that Fak was all. Oh, is that Carmy's jacket?? And Richie jumps straight to oh yall are fucking. NOT A SEX PAINTING OHMYGOD

8.) :< that's all I have to say about that sequence with Carmy that made me very :<

9.) Anyway, um Tony screaming at the sight of him is also very :< also him immediately thinking he is the problem or like the self loathing taking over is also so :< bc like UGH this poor man I really just want to give him the biggest hug in the world. But in Tony's defense, I, too, would get jumpscared by slicked back hair Carmen. I mean, I guess that tracks since Tony IS me, technically.

10.) Okay Fak appears like he's going to be this bad the whole time so unless theres smth specific to say, I'll just cap the Fak interaction here and say I feel for my man Neil bc I, too, am a very slow learner and I would probably also fall flat on my face just like this.

11.) Richie is so dear to me as a character, like that man held everything together in his two hands and got zero appreciation for it. And like, that is something I relate so heavily to. Richie watching Tiff move on must be so :< even if he does seem like he's made his peace with it

12.) Okay, so i just read for a lil while, but um. CARMY'S OLD BOSS SHOWING UP??? DIABOLICAL!! YOU ARE AN EVIL ONION FR like that's so vile. Also I will say that the syd comforting is so slay. Tony just going immediately into caretaker mode is so me actually

13.) THE RACIALLY TARGETED MILES MORALES BANDAIDS !!!!

14.) Anyway I love Syd and Tony and the let me love you is so URGHHHHH i just love them sm

15.) Okay so I hate that fucking guy but ,,, GO TONY !! Love that she basically just handed them their asses by being smart n shit.

16.) RATATOUILLE MENTION !!! Love

17.) Okay the fact that tony questions whether or not Carmen would defend her over impressing chef asshole is so UGH UGH UGH makes my chest all tight bc like, yes, I think he would, i think he absolutely would choose Tony over all of it but... then again.... UGH

18.) OH MY GODDDDDDDD CARMY WROTE TONY A NOTE FOR HER MEAL THATS SO. ITS SO. OH MY GODDD. Even when hes being a grade a dickface hes so sweet :<

19.) LOVE??? Yeah im so gone goodbye

20.) Oh im so dead the moment she got the plate I knew she was gonna give it to chef asshole but STILL IT STILL HURTS

21.) Okay yes im like very :< abt the nat and carmy convo but what is this did mikey have a lil folder abt chip tony like a journal type shit wtf onion

22.) NO THIS IS TERRIBLE NEWS CARMY THINKING SHE DATED MIKEY??? NOOOOO THIS IS EVEN WORSE ACTUALLY THIS IS SO BAD??

23.) I hate you. Thats all 🫶 that cliffhanger was abhorrent

No but fr that was phenomenal and i really hope you like this ugh. Ur writing so fucking good im like crying at the optometrist rn

ALRIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU SKIPPED TO MY ANSWER N DIDN'T READ THE ASK !!! goin' under the keep reading for this one. Will this be the only ask I get through before I have to go run errands? We'll find out. Will there be a snapshot of the next chapter under the cut as a little treat? I honestly don't know, I'll have to look to see if there's anything I can give you that doesn't give away everything lmao.

Before we start though, I do want to note somewhere, I have finished the draft for the next chapter-- I usually don't do to much rework at this point, but I do think it'll need some decent edits-- It's very hard to write like, after a fight, yknow? Like I'm trying to do a very organic aftermath, as well, it's not just a complete cliffhanger, where I can time skip the awkwardness-- And that's like. Woo. Need to revise and make sure it's good.

Anyways, this is all to say:

Thank God I split this from the last chapter, eh? Almost dropped fucking 20k straight on your heads like a comical boulder.

Anyways time to actually REVIEW THIS WONDERFUL YAP SHEET LETS GO

YES you're on the taglist and never apologize for yapping, I do it all the time. And I love to be yapped back to. I know how much work goes into taking notes, so it genuinely really warms my fuckin' heart that you'd take that time for me thank you my love!!

OOH. I think bro gets very close to saying distraction, I think he says that he gets distracted, but never actually calls Tony one straight up. I do think Tony basically calls herself one at some point... Which... Baby, your self image pleaasse. AND YEAH, THE PLATE SENT BACK-- You'd all laugh if I showed you my notes app drafts, I literally have a note titled 'carmy mental snap' and a list of things to fuck with him psychologically that come to me throughout the day

Writing the not a good person, good chef, actually did make me realize what the fuck bro was yapping about in the Season 2 finale. I always like got the amusement or enjoyment line, but I don't think I fully understood what he meant because I was like-- You make food baby, that's a form of enjoyment-- It's not to him. It's money. He doesn't get joy out of being a chef, right now. UGH. I'M RUINED.

Yeah babyyyyy, the voice in his head is still his exeeccccc lets goooooo-- Pulled up the NYC scene dialogue, for that whole morning routine. Pulled all those lines straight from it. Major L to Jeff from Community. He had a major change in character smh

or WHATEVER!!!!!!

I promise I wasn't planning on dogging on Fak this much as a server, and then I watched the trailer, and no spoilers, he fucking bombs and I was like , well, okay, that's the game we're playing Mr Storer? I'll play,,,

DAWWW, again, I know how much this takes, and I should say-- Never feel pressure, lmao-- Whenever I poke at people for not noting things, it's just me poking fun i swear. I never want it to feel STRESSFUL to read these chapters, though (well, i guess i did want THIS one to feel stressful lmao), so please don't feel like you have to do this-- Do i love it? Yes. Do I also beg for essays? Yeah.,,, but like, like yknow what I mean-- Go at thine pace, baby

Richie and Syd are Tony's two besties, and them both immediately going SO YALL ARE FUCKING???? Feels very correct, to me. Sex painting also, I just think is such a Fak thing to whisper. I mean those canvases couples FUCK on, with paint covering, by the way, if that wasn't clear. I don't know how well known a thing that is. I went to art school, so. When worlds collide, yknow.

:< Zero Pulse Carmy L Count: 2 (the morning scene was rough)

I love seeing the different reactions to Tony yelling, because it's either like: AWE POOR CARMY or THATS SO FUCKING SCARY SHE SHOULD BE SCREAMING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?-- And I love to see that.

I would 100% flail like this. Fak is me at my new admin job every day.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I went from a certified Richie Hater to a lover. Writing this fic I think also aided to that, alot, because it forced me to think very critically about like, what it fucking meant to stick around, when your best friend dies. Like me and my best girlfriend-- The Syd to my Tony, essentially, have both said repeatedly if one of us kicks the bucket, the other one is immediately yeeting it. Like. Richie staying alive let alone in the same place, that takes a lot of fucking strength. Love him.

DIABOLICALLLLLL HAAAAA, I did a little dance, when everyone started tweaking in the comments with that one. Love to see it. Got your asses with that surprise-- Got Carmen with it too, lmao. Can you imagine going to work already in a bad fuckin mood and then the Devil from your shoulder is like 'i'll be there in 30'? Ohhhh bitcchh--- I'd be doin worse than Carmy, tbh.

I would've dug so much more into the RACIALLY TARGETED MILES MORALES BANDAIDS!!!! if I was explicitly writing Tony as a POC, but I needed to give her a tamer response with 'i hate you'-- But to note, if I was going full WOC besties, it would've been fuckin' 'oh so you'd prefer peter parker?? racissstttttttt'-- Nothing says solidarity in the black/brown community like calling your fellow POC racist.

LET ME!!!! LET ME!!! Had that line written in my head for quite some time-- I've been planning this chapter since chapter 2, so it's like, like I really got to LIVEEE writing Tony/Syd, I adore them.

GO TONYYYYYY, I was worried I gave her too many talents, tbh. But like. Her title and nickname is Jack of All Trades, and it makes a lot of sense to me that being a Lead Paramedic = Fantastic under pressure, great at giving direction/leading, decent bedside manner + Repairman Level Memory + Wine Fascination since highschool = Not that many actual skills, but they all transfer into so many different branches. So I think she's not to OP lmao. WE'VE GOT TO NERF TONY.

The rat chef!!! I'm shocked no one found it frankly offensive Carmen hasn't seen Ratatouille-- But I do think that would be canon. I think Carmen's life would change dramatically for the better if he just fuckin' relaxed and watched Ratatouille.

RIGHT? I'm literally still debating the idea of what Carmen would do, in the scenario. Like, a lot rides on the idea of a star. His whole life and everyone elses--- Would he prioritize Tony? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm let's not think about it

The note, bah. What a sweetie. It's also like, written on the recipe card he drafted, too, so technically if she gained all the Michelin skills rn herself she could make it. Theoretically.

LOVEEEE...... moving on....

Speaking of Love, I have loved seeing the handful of people saying they knew immediately when she got that plate what Tony was gonna do about it. Like that is both touching to me as an author and also heartbreaking that on a story and character level, you immediately knew what Tony would do to herself there--- Bah.

JOURNAL IS INTERESTNG-- I wonder if Mikey would be the logging type. Maybe entirely unmarked in his notes app.

WOOOOFFFFFF

I'm sorry but I'm not sorry and I hope the OPTOMETRIST APPOINTMENT WAS GOOD DESPITE DA EMOTIONS HAHA

Now let's see, is there anything in the water I can give you here... Anything that won't spoil something,,,

There's not really much that isn't really emotionally charged, so I'll give you this, at least. Feels like any context of the next chapter is spoilery, but eh, read it if you'd LIKE to. haha. AGAIN-- THANK YOU LOVE!!!

[deans-baby-momma]

Law & Love Chapter 12

A/N: And this story is back......with a twist at the end......cliffhanger anyone???? BAHAHAHAHAHA (that's my evil laugh)

THEN

As Beau returns to his desk, he realizes that he also likes the idea of going home with her, that his place was considered 'theirs' now.

NOW

After making sure that my attackers are going to be put away, Beau and I head back to his camper, or as he called it- home. Although, almost immediately he is called away on the case concerning his daughter and her step-father; leaving me to quietly relive the revelations made today.

The news of the altercation at the diner was on the evening news and not long after, I received word that the diner was temporarily closed until the whole ordeal blew over. The owner, a nice man by the name of Fred, also offered me a permanent position as head waitress if I want to come back and work at, as he called it, the scene of the crime.  I told him I would think about it and let him know.

After leaving Eric, my douchey cheating ex, I had left with no particular destination. Arriving in Helena and deciding to settle down hours from anyone I knew was a spur of the moment decision;  one I had yet to regret. 

What I regretted was befriending Deb;  allowing her to know the more intimate parts of my life that I would usually keep to myself. Little did I know she was using it as fodder to manipulate and influence her own son to sleep with her; using my stories and life to seduce and fuck her own flesh and blood. 

My phone rings on the side table, causing me to jump out of my recollections. I look to see Beau's number on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hiya darlin'," he drawls in his Texan accent. I should've never told him I thought it was sexy because now he's just killing me with it. "How're you holding up? I hate that I had to leave you as soon as we got home."

I smile to myself at his words. He called it home again, as in his and mine-ours. 

"I'm okay Beau," I say, trying to relieve his worry. "How's Emily?"

Emily is Beau's estranged teenage daughter who just so happens to be in Montana, on a camping trip with her step-father. And of course, there is a killer on the loose in the woods nearby. 

"Traumatized but holding up," Beau states. "She's a good actress but I know my little girl, she's upset. Apparently she and the victim had become somewhat friends."

He audibly clears his throat and goes into his Sheriff voice. "Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. I'll be back pretty late so make yourself comfortable and I'll try not to wake you up when I come in."

"Okay, Sheriff Arlen," I answer, with a nod of my head. "Be careful."

"Always am," Beau tells me and then in a softer, quieter voice he continues. "This weekend- you, me, a couple of fishing rods and the lake?"

"It's a date, Beau."

Life as the significant other of a law enforcement officer is stressful and worrisome. 

The date at the lake didn’t happen because the killer in the woods upped his game by kidnapping the clerk of the local detective agency, along with Emily. And when Beau heard of Emily’s disappearance? Well, I saw a side of the man I was falling for I’d never seen before.

He was angry, hurt, worried, and fearful.  As soon as word got to him that his baby girl was missing, he bolted out of the camper and was in his truck speeding away before I made it to the door, leaving me behind to anxiously await news.

When Beau returns, he tells me about his confrontation with Avery, his daughter's step-father and the plan to make the man wear a tap to eavesdrop on his meeting with the suspects.

"It's a whole organization," he explains. "Avery stole from them, or has some information they want, and they took her to get his attention."

I can tell that the man sitting beside me is at his wits end and is about to lose it so I wrap my arms around him and pull his body toward me. I know I can't fix this but I can try to give him some comfort.

"She's my baby, Y/N. My little girl," Beau sobs as he nuzzles against my chest. "I saw her first step, heard her first word, bandaged her first injury.  I can't stand the thought of her out there, scared and alone and I can't get to her. What if she is just waiting for me to come save her? What if I'm too late?"

I plant a kiss to the top of his head. "You're going to find her, Beau. You're going to find her and get her back safe and sound. I may not have known you for long but I know when you are determined to get something done, nothing will stand in your way.

"You'll listen in on this meeting, find out the location she's being held and you'll bust up in there and save her. You'll still be a hero in her eyes."

Unfortunately, Avery was killed in a shootout at the meeting and the suspects knew nothing of the kidnap victims. 

Come to find out, the owner/operator of the camping organization was the killer and had kidnapped the two ladies to throw the cops off his trail. 

After some digging, Beau was reunited with his daughter, the clerk rejoined her bosses and Buck Barnes was dead. 

Life in Helena Montana could go on.

I'm wiping down the counter while Shelby, the new waitress, sweeps the floor when the bell alerts us to a new customer. We look toward the entrance to see a tall man in Wranglers and a cowboy hat step inside.

“Beau?” Y/N asks, shocked. 

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize that the stranger is, in fact, not Beau. He is much taller, his hair is shorter and the green eyes that I dream about are actually hazel on the man.

“Beau? Beau Arlen?” the man inquires and I can sense a hint of a Texas accent. “Do you know him?”

By now, Shelby is standing right behind me watching the interaction with a questioning look on her face..

“Yea, I know him. Who’re you?”

“Walker, ma’am. Cordell Walker,” he introduces himself. “Do you know where I can find Beau?” 

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee444 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr244 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @brownbearhusky @purpleeclipseeggslan @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites @yvonneeeeeeee @tmb510 @fallenlilangel99 @globetrotter28

[jewishregulus]

hold on because your thing with alecto carrow & the carrow twins……… you really did something there

listen okay i could go so crazy about them . i have so much lore trapped away in my brain . but i am going to summarize so fast and quick bc they drive me crazy….

general info abt both of them : they r born in japan bc the carrow family moves there post grindlewald and their mom dies and when she dies they move back to the england but they r poor af after everything so pureblood society looks down on them for being traitors. cue them fighting the entire wizaridng war to be given respect and seen as a genuine member of the sacred 28 and using intimidation and violence to do so… a if i cannot be better than them i will be so much worse moment . their dad is normal and loves them very much they just choose to be evil like that. their mom was a sweet angel also and everyday i cry over her even tho i invented her to be dead . whatever

alecto has a weird misandrist complex in which she hates men but is also performing for them all the time , a man hating lesbian who also can’t escape using the patriarchy to validate her skills and ambition. she loves spiders bc they are matriarchal . she bases her worth off of how well she appeals to others and has so her whole life to the point she barely has a sense of self . she wants to kiss lily evans on the mouth and she worships her like an absolute angel it’s serious and vicious . the few scraps of herself she has left are all about knowledge. she is obsessed w language and translation and tries to learn literally any language she can ever . despite this she still can’t give herself a voice . she wants barty crouch jr dead for the crime of being a man and a degenerate which like fair of her . evan n reg r chill tho bc game respects game . i think if she got the chance to explore Life she’d actually choose to become a teacher like voldemort Made her become , but she would be actually pretty good tbh. her and barty regularly brawl in the teachers lounge. alecto kicks his ass. in the modern college au in my head they are regrettably roommates and each conversation they have sets gay lesbian solidarity back 15 years . alecto is studying classics and women’s studies as a minor …. ik feminism is a big part of her character but chat do not reduce her to this u don’t get it … she has a deep connection to lady macbeth and the movie the handmaids tale . here is her vibe :

and amycus is his mothers son who does whatever alecto wants him to bc he just wants to be by her side. they are so aggressively co dependent . he is obsessed w magical plants and herbology and his favorite thing in the world is a magical venus flytrap he keeps in his dorm that evan keeps putting random drops of blood into the mouth of . his dream career would probably be using magical plants to make new medicines n poisons n such . hogwarts resident weed dealer . therefore he n barty r actually chill . he just misses his mom like so much 😭 he is consistently in morning over the life he could have had . he’s pretty good friends w everyone he’s not like a loner but he is lonely deep in his chest…… of course bc alecto is his sister #feministwomenloveamycuscarrow . every carrow is linked to an insect in my head and amycus is a praying mantis . …. he has the same capability for cruelty like he also is on the field w alecto during the war but like he’d rather be gardening :/. modern college au he’s probably studying biology and is the rlly menacing president of the gardening club. and u think this means he is secretly sweet but he’s literally evil. him n reg have a crazy friendship going in in which they do the craziest romantic shit but it is completely platonic. i’m talking like candle lit dinners . in my head he has a weird situationship w rabastan (who is another story….) but also i have a *whispers* oc….. who in the fic i have planned for them in my head (which i will never write) he ends up w and his name is maxx <3 but i will never talk abt ocs on here . i have some shame. amycus would follow alecto to hell if she asked (he just wishes she would stop going the- *car runs me over*)

here’s amycus vibes

i have so much more i could say abt them . there is so much in my head they have such a deep and complex story … i will take any excuse to yap abt them . anyways they are both gay and one day i will write the alectolily sugar mommy au in which lily is the sugar mommy bc she’s a super famous author n alecto works at an antique book store doing translation n repair <3333 and it’s completely accidental lily keeps paying to borrow these super old books and eventually she just pays for alecto to come over and help her research and then one thing leads to another . and alecto is guffawed when she realizes. amycus. thinks it his hilarious. i think her and lily would have an academic rivals to loves thing going on in canon and in like Any school setting but also just in general. they could be 5 years into their relationship and still competing to be the smartest . i think there is rosekiller alectolily double date hilarity potential. also have a lot of thoughts abt them paralleling to the rosier twins but what do i know … i will leave that to the masters ….

anyways that was my yapping . hope someone felt enthralled .

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I'm not sure how to tag this, the best I can do is possibly medical abuse and transphobia? But I feel those are pretty strong words, idk, this is mostly a vent

I'm nonbinary, and I've wanted to transition since I first came out at 13 (I'm 21 now). Last year, I got in contact with the local gender clinic, and I was hopeful. I've been on five meetings over the course of that year - maybe a little more - and it was fine, but terribly stressful, making me shut down after every appointment, and the whole time, I was worried it would be for nothing and that they wouldn't prescribe me the hormones I was there for. The last meeting was... horrible. The man I talked to was cold, accusatory, questioned my experience when I shared it, and called in my mother to double check my answers, like he didn't believe me - most pathetic of all, he, a man who works at a gender clinic, MISGENDERED me, and when I told him my actual pronouns, he switched to just using my name (I swear, if there is a way to get him fired, I will, because he should NOT be working at that job).

And that just sort of felt like the final nail in the coffin. It's not gonna happen, I'm not gonna get the diagnosis I need. So I've decided to go stealth/back into the closet/repress all of this. Being trans is exhausting, it's going to make it harder for me to adopt, it's going to draw the attention of transphobes and I don't know if people will still find me attractive. I told my mom (cis) who absolutely doesn't think I should repress who I am, my best friend (nonbinary) who says he doesn't get it, and my girlfriend (trans) who thinks the idea of going back into the closet sounds terrifying, but at this rate, this choice feels like the lesser of two evils and I don't think they get that. I loved my nonbinary identity so much because it felt like something I had chosen for myself, rather than something I had been forced into, and now I'm being forced back into the role of my AGAB all over again and I just hate everything about this situation.

Just needed to get that off my chest - thank you so much for everything you do ❤️

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry that you've been having horrible experiences trying to get gender affirming care.

I'm appalled that someone so rude and transphobic is working at a gender clinic of all places. You'd think that people working at a gender clinic are far more considerate than that. I hope that you can figure out a way to report him because his behavior was unacceptable and you did not deserve to be treated that way.

I can definitely understand how this experience has made you feel hopeless about seeking gender affirming care, and it's okay to take an indefinite break from it as it can be exhausting emotionally. But please remember that you deserve the care you need, and it may be worthwhile to try again whenever you feel ready. This experience was definitely distressing and draining, but just know that it doesn't deserve the power to make you feel like you can't be authentic in your gender identity.

I hope you've been doing alright, and please know that we're here if you need anything.

-Bun

[crankynewt]

Good for a Weekend (Helmut Zemo)

Masterlist

Summary: You were retired, a disgraced Avenger content living the rest of their life out in solitude. But Sam and Bucky's shenanigans dragged you back into the hero life and you found yourself face to face with the man who'd got you into this mess in the first place. The question is, however, is he really who you thought he was? Or are you just as crazy as him?

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader

Warnings: TFAWS Episode 3 Spoilers, Zemo (he's a warning), swearing, mentions of torture and experimenting (past), drinking, Zemo being semi-protective, I think that's it??

Word Count: 3.41k

Author's Note: Biting the bullet and writing this BEFORE Marvel does something to get us to hate him again. Also, ZEMO AND BLANK SPACE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER OMG.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” You murmured, looking at the message from Sam flashing across your phone. Although you had stopped dead in your tracks, the chaos of the bustling streets of London continued around you. You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose, them having fallen down as you were peering at the screen of your burner cell.

‘Need your help in Madripoor ASAP,’ the text read. You weren’t daft, you knew exactly what kind of lawless entropy happened on that Indonesian island and if Sam was asking for your help, that meant he was in some deep shit.

‘I’m retired,’ you replied, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. Although you’d been pardoned after the Berlin incident by the government, you were still a disgraced Avenger in the eyes of the world. All you wanted was to live the rest of your life out in peace, a future without the world-saving you began when you left HYDRA with the Maximoff twins.

You hadn’t chosen to become a human lab rat, tortured and exposed to the mind stone until you could suddenly hear the thoughts of others in your head. Telepathy and telekinesis were not necessarily the kind of special skills that employers wanted to see on a resume, but alas, here you were. Thankfully, however, you'd learned to block them out until necessary to violate people's privacy. Fighting aliens and other superpowered entities, including the people you’d once considered to be your family, were in the past.

‘Please. It’s Bucky,’ Sam messaged again. Those three words were enough to make your blood run cold and your heart stop. Bucky was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and you would be damned if the ex-assassin was going to fall back into the clutches of evil.

With a sigh, you typed back ‘fine’ and began the trek towards your apartment. Your phone was vibrating again immediately, Sam explaining that they would be picking you up at a small airstrip on the edge of the city.

Three hours later, you were walking along a long, concrete runway, the harsh England wind attacking your body as you pulled your leather jacket tighter around you. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a civilian jet rather than the military-esque vessels you’d become accustomed to. The steps were awaiting your ascent with an older man stood adjacent to the entrance.

“Ms.(Y/L/N),” he greeted. A thick accent laced his tone, one you couldn’t quite determine from the crackling of age in his voice. German or Russian, most likely, you deduced. Attempting to be polite despite your skepticism, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and handshake before the elder man gestured towards the stairs for you. Entering the jet, you turned right to be met with the familiar faces of Sam and Bucky.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky exclaimed, rising from his seat and embracing you in a hug. He held you tightly against his body, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. The super soldier had taken a liking to you when the two of you stayed in Wakanda during your exile, both of you having a certain understanding of the other due to your shared experiences with HYDRA. The sergeant had become somewhat of a brother to you in your time away together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam messaged me.” You replied, Barnes’ arms immediately releasing you as he whipped around to face Sam.

“You tattled on me to (Y/N)?” He scoffed. If looks could kill, Sam would have dropped dead from the darkness in Bucky’s orbs.

“Wait, if he’s okay then what am I here for?” You said, shifting your gaze to Sam as you raised a brow.

“You’re here to make sure that he stays in line.” Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Bucky let out an exasperated ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath.

“Bucky’s fine, Sam.” You replied, rubbing your face with your hand in annoyance as you glanced at the super-soldier.

“He’s not talking about James.” A new voice sounded from behind you, one both vaguely familiar but also strange. Whipping around, you were met with a face you’d only ever seen through a screen. Zemo.

“What the fuck is he doing out of prison?!” You exclaimed, looking between Sam and Bucky in utter disbelief.

“Bucky broke him out of jail!” Sam exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the super-soldier.

“Sam’s the one who pulled me into this mess!” Bucky pointed back.

“You two morons have reached a whole new level of dumbassery!” You exclaimed, keeping a cautious gaze on Zemo in the corner of your eye. “You broke out the man who ripped apart the Avengers out of jail and you let him do it?! The same man who killed King T’Chaka! Do neither of you remember what T’Challa and the people of Wakanda just did for us after we became enemies of the state?! I cannot believe that you would betray their trust and help this monster to escape!”

You paused for a moment, breathing heavily as you looked at the ashamed faces of Bucky and Sam in front of you.

“I’m sorry to-” You heard Zemo begin, you turned to face him with utter rage shining in your eyes. “No! The grown-ups are talking, you can wait your turn.” You scolded him, almost as you would a child but just a tad harsher. Grown-ups may have also not have been the best choice of words to describe Wilson and Barnes.

“I don’t want any part of this suicide mission!” You snapped at the duo, moving to leave.

Thirty minutes later, however, you were still on the jet, glaring into a pair of brown eyes as the four of you flew through the air. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you were still there, but Sam and Bucky knew you too well and pushed just the right buttons to convince you to stay. Sam needed you to tap into Zemo’s mind if need be to figure out if he was planning on betraying them, and you didn’t want two of the last people you trust getting themselves killed if you could prevent it.

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum were sitting across from each other, meaning that you got stuck sitting across from the Baron in silence. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, the darkness in your (Y/E/C) orbs not sitting well with the man.

“So, you read minds.” He began, rubbing his hands together anxiously. You noted the nervous tick and couldn’t help but feel amused at his discomfort, but your expression never faltered.

“You don’t need to make small talk.” You bit, your icy tone growing colder in every syllable.

“I’m genuinely curious, is all.” He began, pausing his fiddling to brush his hair back only to resume it once more. “It just seems like for someone with your abilities, you’re often an overlooked member of the team. You’re the most powerful, even more so than Maximoff or Banner, perhaps, yet you were never truly an Avenger, were you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m retired.” You muttered, ending your glaring to gaze out the window. The way Zemo spoke about you was unsettling, especially considering how he felt about the Avengers. He seemed not to think that you were part of the team, similarly to Bucky, and that brought you a feeling of unease.

“And why is that?” Zemo pushed, your avoidance evidence that he’d struck a chord.

“Why do you care?” You scoffed, looking back at the Sokovian man, both annoyance and exhaustion present in your tone.

“Because I think you’re like me.” He answered, his tone becoming quieter. Zemo didn’t look at you with the same rage you’d seen in footage from 2016, nor with the amusement that he gazed at Bucky and Sam with. No, it was something different, softer and analytical, perhaps. You wanted to peer into his mind for something, anything to figure out what he was thinking, but he would likely feel your prodding into his consciousness. As of now, he didn’t seem to have any plans to betray you guys, and you wouldn’t be the one to give him a reason.

“That’s enough from you.” Bucky interrupted, rising from his seat to switch places with you, his brotherly possessiveness clear as day.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and Zemo provided the three of you with costumes for the roles you were to play in Madripoor. Yours seemed to have been designed specifically to be horribly uncomfortable, both in feel and the amount of skin that was exposed in the cool evening air. The three of you were making your way towards the glowing city shining in the distance, the nerves in your stomach rising with each step.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo explained in response to Sam’s protests over his own outfit. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam said, looking at the picture of Conrad on the phone Zemo had just handed him. “Hell, he does look like me though.”

“And who am I supposed to be playing, exactly?” You questioned, still unsure as to what role you would be playing in this scheme.

“My partner,” Zemo said simply, an amused smile working his way onto his lips.

“What?! No! Nu-uh, I’m not doing that!” You protested, Sam chuckling at your denial of what was probably inevitable.

“Would you rather the alternative of all of us getting slaughtered the second we step foot into the city?” Zemo retorted, still humored by your resistance.

“Fine, but if you try anything I’m going to break your nose.” You gave in.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Soon, the four of you were making your way into a bar, Helmut’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist since the second you exited the car in a mock possessiveness. It was all part of the charade, you had to remind yourself, as the Baron kept your side pressed against his snugly.

Making your way up to the counter, the bartender didn’t look impressed to see the group of you there as he made his way over to you.

“Hello,” He began. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have a business to do, with Selby.” Zemo interjected before Sam could respond.

“The usual?” The bartender ignored Zemo and turned his attention back to Sam, who simply gave a curt nod in response. The bartender turned, grabbing a snake from a jar and slicing it down the underside with a blade. A part of you wanted to cackle, especially seeing Sam stiffen beside you, and you didn’t doubt that Bucky was having to restrain himself as well. Zemo didn’t seem surprised as the bartender pulled who knows what out from the snake and placed it into a glass.

“Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” The Baron commented, the bartender sliding Sam his beverage only to pour two glasses of a different liquor for Zemo and yourself.

“I love these,” Sam said, raising to clink glasses with yourself and the Sokovian man whose arm was still draped around you.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo replied, smiling back at poor Sam. The three of you downed your burning liquor, Sam struggling the most out of the three of you, clearly appalled by the organ at the bottom of his shot. You could see Bucky give a little nod in the corner of your eye, knowing he must be finding this as amusing as you were.

A man soon approached Helmut from behind, tapping him on the shoulder before he turned to face the stranger, shifting you with him. When Zemo felt the little nudge, he immediately pulled you closer to him. You were even tighter against him now, so much so that you had to wrap an arm around him as well to stabilize yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to shield you from the man despite him knowing full well that you can hold your own.

“I got word from on high; you ain’t welcome here.” He spat, getting too close to the two of you for either of your likings. But Zemo kept his air of indifference while you instinctually moved closer into his side. It’s all an act, remember? You have to play the part of the clingy partner who would get frightened at such a rough man threatening you two. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo began, trailing off as he gestured to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The strange man asked Bucky, who merely glowered in response.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished, this time him being the one to get into the man’s face. Thankfully that was enough to send him away, most likely to Selby or this Power Broker who seems to be Madripoor’s own version of Big Brother.

You could feel Zemo let out a breath that you don’t think he even knew he was holding, giving a quick glance down at you before placing a peck on your temple. For the facade, of course. But what wasn’t fake were the butterflies rise in your stomach, something that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Were you… Flustered?

No, you reminded yourself internally. This was a very bad man holding you close, the same one who killed the former King of Wakanda and ripped your team to shreds. Not only that, but he hated all the Avengers, so why did he seem to like you? It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes you, he’s Zemo. But the more time you spent with him, the more intoxicated you became. He was starting to look more and more like your next mistake, and love is certainly not a game you wanted to be playing with him. Right?

The next thirty or so minutes were a blur. Bucky having to fake being the Winter Soldier to kick a bunch of men’s asses to finally meeting up with Selby, only for Sam to break your cover through a phone call and Selby quickly being shot. The four of you promptly exited the bar, attempting to remain inconspicuous until bounty hunters from all around started shooting at you. Bucky and Sam jumped forward, meanwhile, Zemo darted to the right, dragging you with him as he moved his hand from your waist to interlock your fingers.

You cut through alleyway after alleyway, hiding in the shadows as gunfire echoed around you. Eventually, you managed to catch up with Bucky and Sam, approaching the pair with your hand still in his.

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice interrupted your mini-reunion, Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows as she ripped down her hood, gun fixated on Zemo.

“Drop it Zemo,” She started, Zemo raising his gun-holding hand before lowering the weapon to the ground. “You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait.” You reasoned, raising your hand as you slowly backed up.

“What, are you his lover now? His sugar baby or some shit?” She badgered you, causing your eyes to widen as you only just remembered that you were still holding his hand. You quickly dropped it, raising it to match your other arm as Zemo sent you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Oh, how desperately you wanted to look into his mind, but the little bit of sanity left in you told you to leave it be.

“Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explained.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon replied, gun still pointed at your group.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky questioned the blonde.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass so that you could save his ass from his ass and became a criminal with their ass.” She explained, pointing the gun at each mention of whoever's ass it was that turn. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so, I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke. I was on the run, too.” Sam rebutted Sharon’s complaints.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore - I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen…” You began. “Sharon, we need your help, the former agent only laughing in response. “Please.”

“This isn’t over.” She conceded, shaking her head at you. “I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

Sharon’s place was definitely nicer than yours is now, and you’re not even on the run anymore. She, thankfully, had a change of clothes for you to slip into, the soft material much a welcome relief from the tortuous item Zemo had you wearing.

While you were waiting for Sharon’s guests to begin arriving for whatever event would soon be taking place downstairs, everybody slowly filtered out of the room until it was only Zemo and yourself remaining.

“Can I ask you a question?” You spoke up, breaking the silence from your spot on the sofa as you glanced towards the Baron seated across the room.

“Ask away.” He smiled, taking a sip from the amber liquid in his glass.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said we were the same.” Your voice was quiet now, so much so that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. That is until he got up from his seat and slowly walked towards you.

“I never wanted to tear the Avengers apart, not until they killed my family. Destroyed my city… Sure, I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want to destroy them. It was all about vengeance.” He began, sitting beside you on the yellow fabric. “For you, it was HYDRA who ruined your life. You joined the Avengers because it was where the last people you had left were going and it was the easiest way for you to ensure the organization was destroyed. You never wanted the idolization that came with being a hero, and it was clear when your work was done that you had no desire to keep going. Everything that came after the Sokovia Accords was out of survival.”

“I’m not saying you're right,” you began, “but what would that make me, then? Insane? Cause that seems to be the running theory.”

“You’re not crazy, despite how rumors fly. Neither am I, really.” He began, eliciting a small smile from you at the last bit he added. “You’re a fighter, someone doing whatever it takes to get their agenda done. Whether that means breaking the law or joining the Avengers, nothing will stop you once you put your mind to it - it’s one of the things I admire about you.”

You pursed your lips as you focused on the amber fluid floating in its crystalline home, him taking another sip of the burning liquid. Your gaze shifted back to his face, and oh god, look at that face. Maybe it was the liquor in your system already or maybe your last bit of sanity was finally escaping your mind, but suddenly his past didn’t seem to matter anymore. You had plenty of red on your ledger as well, and the more he spoke the more you began to sympathize with him.

“So you admire me?” You smirked, crossing your arms as you tilted your head slightly to the right playfully.

“Why don’t you look into my mind and tell me?” He replied. Reaching out, you gently placed your fingers against his temple as you gazed into his consciousness. Flashes of magic and madness, ideas of a love that could be forever or go down in flames. You didn’t go searching deeper, because your own mind was racing. Would pursuing this be worth all the pain that could very well follow? No, not could, would. You’d be betraying your former teammates, but what did that matter much anymore.

Rather than pulling your hand away, you placed your lips gently on his, tentatively, even. He tasted of expensive liquor and a hint of peppermint, and you found yourself intoxicated. The kiss ended far too soon for your liking, him pulling away so his brown orbs could gaze into your own.

“So… What do you say?” He asked, cupping your cheek in his hand, you place your own over top of his.

“Why not?” You smiled back, reconnecting your lips to his.

“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

Taglist:

@fanfictionedagain @lam-ila @b0nnyzz @haydieenzzibug @cyanide-mustard @duchess-of-new-shire @the-chocoholic-writer @milenadixon @real-fbi @golddenlioness

[parvuls]

The barrel of the suspect’s pointed gun looks remarkably dark, although Jack knows, rationally, that it’s just his anxiety playing tricks on his brain. The suspect’s cold eyes and mocking grin are fixed on Bittle, standing in the doorway with his own gun pulled out, while his aim remains firmly on Jack.

“Bittle’s a very good shot,” Jack states assuredly, never taking his eyes off the barrel. It’s irrational, but he can’t help it. His pulse is thundering in his ears like the bullet’s already been fired. 

“That’s some faith that your partner has in you,” the guy tilts his head at Bittle, smile unfaltering. He hasn’t addressed Jack since they came knocking with an arrest warrant. “Think he’s willing to bet his life on it?”

“Lots of days spent at the range with my daddy,” Bittle says, mouth drawn tight. His aim doesn’t waver, either. It’s not Jack’s first time watching Bittle hold someone at gunpoint, and he estimates it won’t be the last, but it always rattles something unnamed in him. Bittle spends so much of his time smiling at everyone, working his charm on superiors and colleagues and suspects, that it’s easy to forget he can be dangerous. Easy to forget that Jack has never seen him miss a shot. “Sir, I’mma ask you to put the gun away before this whole thing becomes uglier than it has to.”

The guy’s smile turns down at the edges. It’s almost as if Jack knows what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth.

“No,” the man’s voice stretches the vowel, overpronnounces it. His finger moves on the trigger, only the slightest amount. Barely perceptible. 

Bittle takes the shot.

Later, backup shows up at the scene. Officers place the body in a bag face-up, and the clean bullet hole in his chest is the last thing Jack sees of him. Jack takes in a deep breath, lets it out, turns around and walks away.

He finds his partner leaning against a wall further into the apartment, smiling at the police officer who’s taking his statement, then smiling at the coroner who’s asking him questions, then smiling at the FBI agent who’s taking his gun away until paperwork’s been cleared. The gun would still be warm to the touch, Jack knows. The gunpowder would still be all over Bittle’s hands. 

“Hey,” he greets quietly, when Bittle’s finally left alone. Bittle’s eyes spring up and he shifts aside to make room for Jack to stand next to him. Jack has no idea what to say once he has Bittle's attention; talking is Bittle’s field of expertise in their partnership. “Are you… Euh. You okay?”

“Sure!” Bittle smiles up at him. Their upper arms are brushing, scapula pressed to scapula, but Bittle has his elbows turned in. He’s spinning his cellphone between two fingers, around and around. Fidgeting. “I’m just so glad we got here in time, right? Lord, before there was another victim. And we both got out just fine, I’d say that’s a darn miracle, so – of course I’m okay! More than okay.” 

Bittle’s smile is bright and friendly and false. His fingers are trembling around the phone, just enough for Jack to notice. Bittle may never miss a shot, but Jack knows, without ever having been told, that he hates taking them. Jack knows his partner. He knows the blood on Bittle’s hands will never go dry as far as his conscience is concerned. 

“Yeah,” he echoes eventually, and tries not to visibly wince. Maybe he should ask Johnson about the right thing to say at one of their future sessions. He hates feeling so useless. “Bittle… That man was – he did really bad things.” But that’s not enough, not for Bittle. Not for the price of a life taken. Jack doesn’t believe in exhaustive good or bad, doesn’t think evil is something that can be measured, doesn’t put much stock in psychology. But. “I mean. He was… a bad man.”

Jack looks back to the side, finds Bittle already looking at him. His eyes are big, and there’s an expression on his face, something Jack can’t read. He’s not very good at that, he's been told.

“Thanks, Jack,” Bittle says softly. He smiles again, and this time his smile is small, and a little sad, but genuine.

Jack offers a tiny smile back, and they stand looking at each other until the coroner calls Jack’s name.

[frostedfaves]

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

-

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you. 

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

-

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled. 

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.” 

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” 

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest. 

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

-

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

-

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

-

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

-

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

-

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy. 

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you���ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

-

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

[meetmymouth]

ooh I think #7 and #17 from the blurb list would fit very well together! if you want!

THANK YOU LINDS <3<3

prompt list here, send a number!!

#7 If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle

#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

THIS IS 3K IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF SO PLEASE REBLOG LMAOOOOOO!!!!!

"This is my room," comes a gruff voice behind you as you keep looking out the window, taking in the greenery and the beautiful ocean.

See, you knew he would be here.

You knew, because Harry and Mitch were attached at the hip, and you didn't mind. You didn't mind seeing your ex every time you were invited to hang out with MitchandSarah & co, except when said ex decided to be an evil arsehole.

Perhaps, calling him an "ex" was weird, seeing how your time alone only consisted of you both getting high, mostly naked as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear and promised to make you feel good, be the best you've ever had. Other than that, though, he was an insufferable bastard. Since you never hung out with the man without your friends around–getting rat-arsed and high... and the activities that followed aside–, you didn't know if he was always this annoying.

He seemed to be getting along just fine with the others, especially Sarah and the other girls, so you had no problems scratching off the "women hater" off your list. And you can't ever recall him being this insufferable while you both were fucking which was, in his case, miserable. So, it was definitely annoying. You weren't that interested in him to think that he was being mean because he was secretly in love with you. That was a myth, a pathetic myth, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't steep that low. He was just an arse, full stop.

You turn around with an eye-roll, and within seeing his face, you nearly clench your fists like a ten-year-old. "Do you live here?" You ask, hoping the boring expression on your face is also detectable in your tone.

It's certainly not a surprise when Harry scoffs.

"I don't, but I picked this room first. Since, you know," he looks around, and walks further into the room, finally stopping at the feet of the bed. "You were late. As per."

"Oh fuck off. This isn't summer camp. Besides, I don't see any of your shit around. The room was empty when I arrived."

"If you bothered to look inside the wardrobe..."

Seriously, you find yourself thinking, how the fuck did you ever end up with this man. Naked.

There's a commotion downstairs, so you both turn to the door, but much to your dismay, there's no one coming to check up on you and hopefully, save you from Harry Styles' pathetic gob.

You turn towards the window again, eyes squinting briefly at the last bits of sunshine that's glinting from between the branches.

"Well. You shouldn't have left then. You weren't here when I arrived."

Harry shakes his head, and you swear you can see his nostrils flaring if you look carefully. Though, you just watch him with a smug smile on your face as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls open the white doors. True to his word, his clothes are there, perfectly folded, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt before you look back up at his face and see the furrowed eyebrows.

"See. My clothes. I'm sure Sarah will sort it out for you, find you another room or summat."

"There's only three bedrooms. Can't sleep with a pregnant woman and her boyfriend, can I?"

"What about Rachel and David? Aren't you best friend's with her?"

"Harry, you're ridiculous. Just–" you wipe the sweat off of your forehead, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter each passing minute. "–just sleep on the sofa. This is my first vacation this year. You go on holidays every week or so. Let us commoners have this."

"Oh, please. Didn't you have a girls weekend getaway or whatever the fuck in Soho Farmhouse two weeks ago?"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, and a raised eyebrow follows. "How do you know about that?"

"Because," he rolls his eyes, and slams the wardrobe shut. "You post seven hundred stories every day."

"You're a stalker."

"You sleep on the sofa."

You smirk, noticing how he avoided your previous statement.

To be fair, you hated posting on your story. Though, knowing Harry followed you on Instagram made posting on there fun, and seeing his username on the list of who watched your stories pop up at the very top every single time whenever you posted a story almost made you let out a mingy little laugh and rub your hands together, and scream "gotcha!".

"I won't."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"What a coincidence," you ignore the stare he's sending your way and walk towards your carry on, and start taking the contents out one by one, laying everything on the bed.

He watches with a scowl on his face, arms crossed across his chest, and a satisfied smile paints your features as you take out the toiletries bag next.

"Are you seriously unpacking right now?" Harry cranes his neck so he can see better. He looks ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed, but you refrain from saying anything.

In fact, you don't even answer him. Perhaps, you find yourself thinking, it was silly to unpack your underwear first. It wasn't as if you brought super "sexy" shit or lace everything. You can definitely feel his gaze watching your every movement as you take everything out carefully and place them on top of each other. With most of your underwear in hand, you get on one knee in front of the bedside table and open the drawer, placing everything inside and it's surprising how he hasn't claimed the bedside table yet.

"Look," he sighs. "I'll talk to Sarah, maybe you can sleep with her and Mitch–"

"–don't be stupid we're not making them sleep with other people because you can't be a gentleman and sleep on the sofa."

"Oh for fuck's sake," he growls, and you finally look at him, eyebrows raised in hopes of making him feel as stupid as he sounds right now. Unfortunately, though, he continues, "Okay, damn it, I'll sleep on the floor."

Fool.

"Common sense, Harry. Always pick sofa. No matter what."

"Were you born to make my life a living hell?"

"Look," you sit on the bed, and look around. "This is boring me to death. I'm sleeping on the bed. If you shut your gob, you can sleep with me on the bed."

Harry lets out an obnoxious laugh. "Just admit I was here first and you didn't bother checking the–"

"Yes, I didn't and what about it? I'm here now, aren't I? I'm on the bed, babes. Anyway," you get on your feet, and with one last look at him, you start walking towards the door. "I'll see you in a bit. I guess."

You both manage to avoid each other as much as you can throughout the day, and really, it wasn't that hard considering the good company of your friends, good food and good alcohol. You mainly helped Sarah and Rachel in the kitchen as the men lounged on the sun loungers, Mitch handling the grill and David helping you guys with the drinks that came in and out of the house pretty quickly with the way you lot consumed them like water.

You spend the night eating, laughing and drinking, sometimes singing along to whatever song played on David's fancy Bluetooth speaker, and everyone begins ushering inside with full bellies and most of them–except the very pregnant Sarah–with a tipsy smile on their faces.

You leave before Harry though, leaving him smoking his last cigarette by the pool while you run up the stairs and into the room, closing the door behind you. You quickly get rid of the romper and get your favourite pyjamas on, eyes searching for the orange makeup bag so you can take off the remaining makeup before bed. You knew it was silly not to do your night routine, but you still zip the bag closed with a sad expression on your face, not wanting to see your toner and night cream any more than you needed to as you throw it on the floor next to your bags. It's pathetic really, how determined you are to get in the bed before Harry can that you forego your whole routine and stick to some cotton pads. Though, plugging your charger and getting between the cool sheets make you forget all about it as you let out a sigh, and unlock your phone to do your nightly scroll before falling asleep.

As you double tap on a selfie, the door opens, and you hear him scoff, again. You keep scrolling though, and try to sneak a few glances at him as he makes a beeline for the wardrobe, and to your surprise, begins to undress. You try to stay calm, and not to think about how domestic this whole thing seems; being in the same room as him as he gets ready for bed.

Right, getting ready for bed.

You keep your eyes on your phone as his clothes hit the floor one by one, and when you look up briefly, he's got a pair of joggers on, and he's throwing the clothes he had on in the wardrobe.

He turns around, and find your gaze, and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew you'd be in bed, here, as soon as I heard someone running. Forgot you were a literal five-year-old," he mutters under his breath, loud enough so you can still hear him. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."

"I love how you're basically arguing with yourself."

"Like I said, I'm not sleeping on the sofa. I didn't come all the way to sleep on a bloody sofa."

"Suit yourself. I guess we're sharing. Unless," you lock your phone, and place it on the bedside table. "You want to share," you shrug, adjusting your pillow and sigh at the cool fabric against your hot cheeks.

You can feel him thinking, the wheels turning in his head, and you finally hear the floorboards creek underneath his feet as he walks closer to the bed, and pushes the sheets off of you. The whole thing.

You blink in surprise. "Stop it, dude! What the fuck."

"I'm getting in! Fuck's sake, be quiet."

"You did that just to annoy me."

You're both quiet for a minute, Harry taking his rings off and then comes his socks, and he finally copies you, laying on his back on the bed. He covers the both of you, though you know it's not intentional since he couldn't do it without covering his own body with the duvet, and then he lets out a strangled sigh.

"The bed's too small."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"What?" He turns his face to you, and perhaps it's the first time he's looking at you– really looking.

His brows are furrowed, and lips turned downwards in a pout.

"I'm taking the piss, Harry. I know you're not calling me fat."

"Good," he says, though his voice isn't exactly soft. "I wouldn't."

"Good."

Silence.

It's unbearable.

Despite the hot weather, you feel yourself shiver, and you wish you were the only one in bed so you could do the whole burrito technique with the duvet. Alas... you stay where you are. You both do.

A dog barks in the distance, the high-pitched bark coming through the open window, and you can feel Harry breathing too fast beside you. You want to shout at him, tell him to fuck off and... not breathe too fast, though it sounds a bit too rude even for you, so you stay silent and wait for the dog to pipe the fuck down.

You try to turn on your side, because you could never see yourself fall asleep laying on your back like a vampire, but you almost fall, not anticipating the tiny space you've got going on. It's bad, and you know you're not going to get a good sleep. So, you find yourself contemplating about getting up and sleeping on the sofa because honestly, fuck him.

Harry shuffles next to you, presumably trying to find a good position to sleep in himself, but he lets out a groan and it startles you.

"What's wrong with you!"

"The bed's too fucking small."

"We've established that."

He sniffs, hands clenching the sheets around his body. "I don't sleep on my back. My back hurts."

You don't say anything, hoping for him to just get up and leave, go sleep on the sofa. He doesn't, though. It's another fifteen minutes before you let out another sigh, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and Harry copies you. You both turn on your sides, facing each other and Harry groans when your knee makes contact with his thigh, making you cringe in embarrassment. A quiet sorry leaves your mouth and he shakes his head, then turns the other way, facing the door.

"Fuck," he spits after a minute. "If we both want to fit, we'll have to cuddle."

"Cuddle? Fuck no."

"Just," he turns to you again, but the bed is too small for you both so his knees touch yours. "Just come closer. Either that, or go sleep on the sofa."

"Why don't you–"

"You're so stubborn! Come closer, I won't eat you or fall in love with you. Fuck."

You groan, but oblige for some reason, feeling your heart beginning to beat faster for some ridiculous reason.

It's been a long time, you find yourself trying to convince your heart. It's been a long, long time since you've been this close to a human being. Too long since you've cuddled with someone, so obviously you were going to feel a little excited, and weird. Yes, definitely weird.

You get closer and he lifts up his arm, you both sharing a look before you roll your eyes and place your hand on his wrist, placing it on your hip. He's quiet, eyes searching yours, and the crease between his brows are gone, and you want to laugh, because who knew it only took your skin against his to wipe that stupid grimace off of his face.

"I still think you're annoying," Harry mumbles, clearly sleepy. His hold on your hip becomes tighter as his thumb strokes your skin over the fabric.

"I know. Just shut up and sleep."

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[harryspet]

off to the races | s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, murder/violence, a hint of peter x reader, hint of forced regression, sexy stuff, unprotected sex (wear condoms kiddos), hella angst 

A/N: I do not stan lana del rey but I do stan off to the races :)

In which you call the kingpin your Daddy. 

word count: 4.9k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes​ 

God, do they have to play this song every night? 

You tried to tune out the annoying pop song, continuing to grind your hips against the man you were giving a small lap dance. You wondered how long you could grind against his beer belly before he finally requested a private dance. Lucky for you, you felt some cash being slipped between the lace of your turquoise, panty set. You turned around, a mischievous smile on your face, as you reached out to grab his tie. 

He was mesmerized by you as you expected, and you imagined that he was dying to see more of your scantily clothed body. A hundred dollars for fifteen minutes in a private room. If you could manage to get a few more private dances tonight, you’d consider yourself successful. 

You brought him to one of the back rooms and got to work. You let him run his hands over your bottom but once they started to reach between your legs, you knew what to do, “Ah, ah, ah, you know the rules,” You hid your frustration behind your sultry voice. You climbed on his lap, straddling him, as you reached around to undo your top. Beneath the lacy top were your breast but decorated in shiny gemstones. 

A lot of the other girls hated glitter and spending time doing stuff like applying tiny gems but you knew that it was another shiny thing for men to look at. You needed their attention. Besides, you didn’t mind the way it looked either. His eyes were wide and he gripped your bottom as you moved your breast, an inch away from his face. 

When the fifteen minutes were over, you quickly collected your top and fastened it back on, “Come and see me soon, baby,” You said something of that nature, all your words blurred together by the end of the night. 

You managed to get about four more private dances and as one a.m. approached, you were ready to be anywhere else but here. You headed underneath the neon exit sign, heading for the locker rooms, where it seemed a lot of girls were on their way out. You passed naked, sweaty bodies, and clouds of spray deodorant as you made your way to your locker, already slipping out of your tall heels. 

The first thing you pulled out was your money bag and you were careful when you were counting each dollar bill, tucking it away nicely. You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Wanda, red lollipop in one hand, and a white check in the other. Your eyes widened as soon as you read the number, “I’m missing fifty bucks,” You told her. 

She gave you a knowing look, “Late fee, Y/N.”

“I was a minute late! I even called and told him my train was late,” Angrily, you stuffed your money bag into your duffle bag.

“He’s not in a good mood, some suit was talking with him earlier,” Wanda shrugged, sensing she had bigger things to worry about. Like you, she made her money dancing and was trying to get by supporting herself, “I wouldn’t argue with him today.” 

“Screw that, fifty dollars is the difference between me making rent. He can’t do this,” You slammed your locker closed and you were about to storm off when Wanda grabbed your arm. 

“C’mon, we should go. Clint is gonna walk us to the station and he won’t wait for you.”

“I won’t be long,” You shrugged her off, making your way out of the dressing room, and toward Loki’s office. He controlled every part of the Mischief club, set the prices, chose the dancers, and even had a strict list of clientele. It wasn’t the nicest club you’d worked at but it was the closest thing to a consistent paycheck. 

You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that you had a point to make and only a certain amount of time to say it, “Fifty dollars! Are you serious-” You stopped in your tracks, realizing that your boss was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but you were also in deep shit. Steve Rogers sat across from the playboy club owner and, looking at the handsome silver-fox, you thought your heart might explode out of your chest. 

He’d found you. 

He smiled as soon as he saw you, “Babydoll,” A name you’d usually swoon at, made you cringe inside. There he was, clad in an expensive suit and dark overcoat. 

Your eyes met with those of Sam and Bucky who had made themselves comfortable by one of the tall bookcases, waiting for their boss to command them to do something. As Steve’s eyes raked over your body, you realized they’d never seen you like this. 

“You know her?” Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, an eyebrow raised, “... sir.” He added quickly. You don’t know why you were so surprised by this, knowing that Steve was feared everywhere, and Loki, no matter how evil, wouldn’t be the one to challenge him.

“I saw you perform tonight,” Steve spoke to you and, in his mind, you imagined that you were the only one he was seeing right now, “You looked beautiful.”

You hadn’t realized that you probably looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You tried to let go of some of the tension in your body, “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice from faltering and, considering that you were half-dressed, you tried not to let your insecurities overwhelm you. 

“As of a few minutes ago, I am the sole owner of the Mischief Club,” Your heart had stopped its pounding and now it was sinking into your stomach, “If you have any grievances with your employer, you can speak to me-”

“This isn’t your side of the city,” Your lip trembled, anger bubbling within you, “Why … y-you . . . Steve, you can’t do this.”

“Every part of this city is mine, Babydoll,” He sighed, standing up from his chair, reminding you of his large, intimidating frame. Reminding you that you were nothing compared to him. You didn’t move as he crossed the room, moving until he was only standing an inch from you, slowly reaching out his hand until he was touching your cheek, “Chasing you made me realize that I should expand my influence. A club like this is a shit hole now but, in a few months, I’d make it a cash cow.”

“Once you run drugs through the place, you mean,” He tensed up for a moment and you realized you’d struck a chord. His hand was on your throat, his thumb brushing over your cheek, and a piercing gaze burning holes into your skin. 

“I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head over it,” For a moment, you closed your eyes, and imagined wrapping your arms around him. He’d become your haven so quickly and you’d almost forgotten how it felt for someone to care so much for you. Love you even when you didn’t want to love yourself. When you opened them again, you realized what he meant by his words. 

He wasn’t giving you a choice. 

You stepped back, letting his hand fall back to his side, before you crossed your arms, “Things aren’t going back to the way they were.”

Much to your surprise, Steve nodded, “No, I made some mistakes. Letting you go being the biggest one.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re dangerous, Steve, and I want nothing to do with it.”

“And this is safer, Y/N?” He raised his voice, “Men having their grimy hands all over you . . . I’m taking you home.”

“I can take care of myself!” 

“Really?” He smirked condescendingly, and you imagined he was seeing you as a bratty child throwing a tantrum, “He-” He stepped to the side, and pointed a finger at Loki, “-was going to lay you off a week from now. The club went under a long time ago and he was going to take your hard-earned money and run, leaving you with nothing. What would you do then?”

Loki stood up, interrupting, a nervous smile on his face, “Not with nothing. I-I pay all the ladies very well and I would like to continue to do that . . . that’s why I’m so grateful for your generosity, Mr. Rogers-” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He was lying through his teeth. 

“You won’t be paying them anymore, Mr. Laufeyson,” Steve spoke calmly, too calmly, and as his hands reached up to his waist belt, you suspected the worse. 

“Steve-” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Loki rushed out his words as Steve pointed his favorite silver handgun in his direction, “We had a deal!”

“Steve, don’t!” Panicked, you grabbed a hold of his strong arm. As soon as you saw him, you knew the night wouldn’t end good but death was not something you predicted. Before, he’d never show you the violent side of his world. Now, something had changed, “Steve, please don’t!”

“Come with me,” He spoke sternly, “Come home and I won’t.”

“Okay,” You said immediately, looking up at his unchanging expression. He didn’t move which only panicked you further, “I will! Steve, please don’t.”

“He’s not a good man. He’s been using you this whole time,” Steve said, finally turning to look at you. Your body was shaking, the idea of being so close to the gun was frightening you further, “You’d give yourself up for this scumbag?”

Though it made you more anxious, you moved closer to him, grabbing a hold of his free hand. With your other arm, you hugged his torso, and as he stared down at him, “I-I don’t want you to hurt anyone, Daddy,” You spoke softly, “ . . . please, Daddy?” Something softened in his features as you called him by his favorite nickname. He squeezed your smaller hand and, for a moment, you thought things might be okay. 

The sound was deafening when Steve pulled the trigger. Although you couldn’t hear anything, you knew you were screaming, and that you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to open your eyes ever again. He tried to wrap his arms around you and you remembered fighting it, hitting his chest, and screaming even louder. Somewhere along the line, you gave in, he was too strong, letting him wrap his long coat over your scantily clothed figure. 

You were breathing heavily and when you decided to open your eyes again, everything was blurry, “Daddy had to . . . I’m sorry . . . Babydoll,” You heard in your ear. You were moving, he was holding you . . . when had he picked you up? When did the car start driving? You wished badly that you’d listened to Wanda. 

You remembered holding onto him tighter, crying into his shoulder, “Why?” He heard the pain in your voice, felt the realization that your life would never be the same. 

“Because you’re mine,” He rubbed circled into your back, leaving soft kisses on your cheek, “And I needed to remind you of what your Daddy is capable of. Anyone who hurts you, anyone who even lays a hand on you, is going to meet the same fate.”

“I don’t want this,” You hiccuped. Steve didn’t believe you, not with the way you were holding him. “This . . . it’s so scary, S-Steve.”

“I’m sorry I had to scare you, baby,” It reminded him of last year when things were good between you two, and you comfortably moved in and out of little space. He could sense you were dying to go to that safe space and, selfishly, he was hoping the trauma of tonight would push you into that mindset, “Daddy’s going to take better care of you. You’ll live with me now, where you’ll be safe.” 

You only closed your eyes, no fight left in you. In the world of Steve Rogers, you didn’t think safety existed. 

+

You awoke in a pink cloud. The sheets were so soft, heavenly even, and it almost made you forget your situation. You felt something crawling on top of the sheets and you sat up quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. Realizing it was a furry, white creature, you relaxed, “Alpine, you scared me,” The cat crawled into your embrace and you pet it gently, wondering where exactly it’s owner was.

As you looked around what you assumed was your new room, you couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. You almost forgot how well Steve knew you. Elegant white furniture, a canopy bed with white fabric falling from the sides, a huge wardrobe, a bookcase, a mountain of stuffed animals - frogs, elephants, dolphins, practically the entire animal kingdom - and the fairy lights were a nice touch. 

Maybe you were more than impressed. Astounded, actually. 

“Oh my . . . stars,” You climbed out of the queen-sized bed, cat in your arms, and quickly realized that your lingerie was gone and your glitter had been washed away. Did he give you a bath? While you were sleeping? You dressed in a large t-shirt and as you brought the fabric up to your nose, you realized it was his, “Why didn’t you warn me that he was this off his rocker, Alpine?”

The cat only responded with a quiet meow. 

You moved over to the window and, expectedly, it didn’t budge when you tried to push it open. You looked out onto the vast landscape, perfectly manicured rolling hills of green, a garden, Olympic sized pool, beautiful white statues, and armed guards to match.

It was like you remembered though Steve didn’t bring you to his “private home” often. The two of you always met in the city and, what started as an interesting sugar arrangement, quickly blossomed into a new dynamic. 

You wandered around the room, examining every detail that he had put into it. You imagined the military man had placed a lot of the objects himself, making sure everything was perfect when you saw it. 

The room is also gigantic, you could do at least ten cartwheels from one wall to the other. You’d never imagined living somewhere like this, the room itself was bigger than any place you’d ever lived. 

As the door creaked open, Alpine leaped from your arms, taking the opportunity to escape. You watched the creature crawl between Steve’s legs before slipping out, probably going to look for Bucky. As your eyes traveled up his figure, you assumed he’d be dressed down in his home but the businessman was clad in another suit. 

You were glad not to be crying anymore but seeing him now was reminding you of the horror show that was last night, “My things, I had money in my bag,” Was the first thing you thought to say, “I want it.”

“You don’t need it,” He said what you assumed he would. 

“But-” You stopped yourself, “Can you give it to Wanda, please?”

“Please and thank you?” Steve cocked his eyebrow, smirking, “I wasn’t expecting that from you today.”

You didn’t respond, only crossed your arms defiantly, “I want Wanda to have it.”

“Done,” Steve raised his hands in surrender, “Is that all you want? Can I interest you in breakfast, little one?”

He didn’t know how deeply his words cut into you. How you wanted nothing more than to forget your worries and be his little girl. How you’d probably get on your knees and kindly do anything he asked . . . if this was a perfect world. You tried to shake that feeling because this world was anything but perfect. 

“I guess,” Your hunger suddenly crossing your mind. 

He nodded, a smile threatening to form on his lips, “Do you want help getting ready?” You quickly shook your head and you assumed he knew that it would be your response, “Well, I picked something out for you. I left it in the bathroom.”

“So what, I’m supposed to  . . . wear whatever you want and be your little trophy?”

“And if you sit still and look pretty, Daddy will buy you anything you want,” Your eyes narrowed at him and you looked away, knowing you’d probably burst into flames if you looked at the annoying smirk any longer, “I’ll come to get you in ten minutes.”

You were already walking towards the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. The bathroom was even more immaculate than the bedroom, a big chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling, with sleek marble fixtures. You avoided the mirror when the thick makeup came off at the end of the day, so you were shocked seeing your bare face. It made you look . . . innocent. It was the opposite image the club wanted to present. 

You found a new toothbrush in one of the drawers and proceeded to brush your teeth, before washing your face. 

The dress he’d picked out was frilly and white, a stark but beautiful contrast to your skin. It puffed at the sleeves but grabbed your waist and then flounced out when reaching down to your knees. You did a small twirl, letting the ends of the dress softly caress the tips of your fingers. Realizing you liked it quite a lot made you frown in the mirror.

Most likely, there was no racy lingerie and tassels in that wardrobe. He said you looked beautiful last night but there was no chance he’d let you ever look like that again, especially in front of his men. 

When you left the bathroom and realized Steve had not returned, you decided to slip out of the room. You wandered down the big hallway, your bare feet padding against the carpet, as you examined each piece of artwork and decoration. Steve’s taste was expensive but his style was old-fashioned, choosing elegance over flashy things. 

You admired it for a second and then remembered the blood spilled, the money stolen, and the dirty things that funded it. 

 “I thought I said I’d come and get you.”

You turned around, noticing how his breath caught in his throat as he took you in. He was deadly, he killed a man right in front of you, yet he was like a teenager in love when he saw you. 

You mentally cursed. 

+

“Are you full?” He asked, looking at your plate of a half-eaten pancake. There was still a feast laid out in front of you which was tempting but you couldn’t help but see it as consuming more of his forbidden fruit. 

You only nodded and his lips pressed into a thin line. 

He was holding back, you could tell. He wanted to make sure you were fully nourished and he’d probably prefer to feed you himself. 

“Eat more,” He added, “Please-”

You stood up abruptly, “I want to look for Alpine,” You made a move to leave the dining room but, as you passed his chair, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. He gripped you stronger as you tried to pull away. 

“After you eat more,” He commanded. 

“I’m not hungry,” Your eyes didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Babydoll, can’t you see I’m trying to play nice?” He tried to hide the venom in his tone, “I could’ve bent you over my knee already for not addressing me properly. Do you want that?”

You shook your head. 

“Use your words, please.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want that . . . Daddy.” 

When you made a move to go back to your seat, he grabbed your arm tighter, “Sit with me,” He said but his tone was softer than before. You sat down on his knee and, instinctively, his arm wrapped around your torso, holding you in place, “Relax.” 

You turned your head closer to him, the familiar feeling of being in his arms led your muscles to relax. He brought pieces of fruit to your mouth and, as you opened your mouth for him, you heard, “Good girl.” 

When he first wanted to do things like this with you, he told you to imagine the things you liked when you were younger. You told him that you never had a lot of toys, never got a lot of praise, and that you were always the one taking care of others, not the other way around. What he made you feel was foreign but it satisfied a need you never knew you had. 

“You haven’t been eating enough,” He commented. You shrugged and he frowned a bit, “Three meals a day from now on. And snacks. And lots of water.”

“And what if I don’t, Daddy?” You challenged, more playful than you intended. 

Steve gave you a look that was much too loving for you to hold his gaze, “How about, if you do, then I’ll give you a reward . . .” His voice trailed off as he thought for a moment, “What would you like?”

“I wanna go back to the city-”

Steve smirked, “Something realistic, preferably,” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes, “A new outfit? . . . A new toy? . . . I know what you want.”

“No, you don’t,” You pouted. 

“Stickers,” He answered, proud when he saw you perk up, “Sparkly, butterfly ones probably.”

“I don’t-”

He interrupted your lie, tickling your side, and you tried not to smile, “You love those little things! You’d probably prefer it over a designer bag or a trip to europe.” 

“They’re not expensive and I like collecting them,” You tried to explain, your voice low. 

“Then that’ll be it. A week of not skipping meals will get you a special sticker for your chart, we’ll even hang it on the fridge.” 

You didn’t mind the idea . . . you could have so many stickers after a long while. 

“A week,” You repeated, “How long do you expect for me to stay here?”

“There’s lots to do, you won’t get bored,” He spoke dismissively, probably frustrated by your question. You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted when the table started shaking, Steve’s phone vibrating on top of it. 

“Rogers,�� Steve answered, pressing the phone to his ear, “Yes, I’m aware . . you told me that you took care of him . . . I don’t need to tell you how to do your job, you’re just supposed to do it  . . .  he’ll listen if it comes from me . . . i’ll handle it, okay? . . . Babydoll,” He softly patted your knee, “Why don’t you go look for Alpine?”

You took that as your cue that he was about to start cursing and didn’t want you around to hear it. 

+

An hour later, you were wandering around the garden and Steve still hadn’t tried to find you. You guessed that he was busy with his work now but you were more focused on finding Alpine. You’d search every inch of the inside of the house and now there was only one place left. You realized that you could also start thinking about a way out of this place. 

“Here kitty, kitty,” Your eyebrows raised as you heard an unfamiliar voice. You wandered further along the path, trying to look through the greenery, before stumbling upon an opening with a large fountain in the middle. Alpine was walking around the top of it, frustrating the man trying to get him down from such a tall height. 

He was one of Steve’s men, you could tell by the dark clothing, though you didn’t recognize him. He was much younger, and honestly, more attractive than a lot of them. You could tell the light had gone out in a lot of the people that Steve kept around. You could already tell he wasn’t like that, “Come on, dude, now you’re just messing with me!”

The cat seemed to brush him off, continuing to walk along the edge. 

“You have to be more gentle than that,” You said, knowing you would startle him. It amused you a little how he seemed to jump out of his skin. His hand held over his heart, you could tell he was a bit taken aback by your appearance. You moved toward the fountain, holding your arms out for it, “C’mere, Alpine, the scary man won’t hurt you.”

His eyes were wide as the cat easily jumped into your arms, “He obviously doesn’t like me,” He said, watching as you brushed Alpine’s ears with your fingers, “And yet Bucky always puts me on cat duty.”

“Maybe Bucky is the one that doesn’t like you,” You responded. 

He frowned, “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” You walked towards you, encouraging Alpine to climb into his arms. Alpine seemed to listen, welcoming his touch, “He’s never been this nice to me. Are you some kind of animal whisperer?”

You giggled a bit, “I’m Y/N.”

Peter’s mouth formed an “o” shape like he was connecting the dots in his mind, “I-I’m Peter . . . aren’t you like . . . not supposed to be out here?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Am I?” He seemed to panic for a moment, “I mean, I didn’t get the brief that Steve probably gave you all.”

“Right,” He nodded nervously, “Do you . . . should I walk you back to the house?”

“Actually, can you walk me to my room? I don’t think I remember where it was,” You played dumb. 

“Yeah, sure,” He agreed.

Perfect. He was perfect. If there was a way out of here, he was it. 

+

You didn’t see Steve until later that night. He was right in the fact that you didn’t get bored, there were a million things to do even in your own room. You’d floated away, your mind now completely occupied by the coloring page you were scribbling on. 

As Steve sat on the side of your bed, you felt the weight of his day come down with him. Another reason he kept your arrangement before was because you provided stress relief after a long day. He touched your hair, patting your head, and you turned your head to look at him. 

“Did you have lunch?” He asked and you nodded sheepishly, “Dinner?” You nodded again. 

“Maria made sure I ate.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head, “Good girl. Wanna show me what you’re working on?”

You sat up from your position, moving the picture book into his lap, “It’s me and you,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked down at the picture of Belle and the Beast. 

“You’re funny,” Steve smiled, his eyes getting those little crinkles at the side.

“Did you end up handling your business?” You asked curiously. 

“I did, actually,” He responded, failing to elaborate, “And that’s all you need to know.”

You closed your book, tossing it to the side, and standing up on the bed. You walked over to the pillows and plopped down, “Don’t you think it's a little unfair to hide things? I want to hear a story before bed. Or are your stories too scary?”

You were only teasing him but as he turned over, crawling towards you, your heart began to race, “Did I ever tell you the story about the little girl who always ran her mouth?” 

You shook your head, and Steve let you stew a moment longer before he pounced. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto you back, as he climbed on top of you, “Well, she was always mad at her Daddy because he was . . . very protective. Her Daddy had to fix this, of course, he couldn’t have such a naughty little girl trying to boss him around. He didn’t punish her though, he just fucked her until she couldn’t speak.”

“I don’t like this one-” You were interrupted when his lips crashed down on yours. 

You felt suffocated by him, trapped beneath his love, until you started to move your lips against his. You must’ve been just as crazy as he was for wanting this. 

You gasped for air when he finally pulled away. You watched him hurriedly take off his already unbuttoned,  button down, and undo his belt. You were sliding your dress sleeves off, trying to get your panties down your leg. When they were around your ankles, he tore them away, throwing them to the side. 

Your lips were on his again, “Steve-” He grabbed your wrist roughly, pinning them above your head with one hand, and he grabbed your face with the other.

“Call me Daddy,” He demanded, sinking between your hips. 

“Steve-” You felt a quick sting across your cheek and Steve watched a fire build in your eyes. 

“Bad girl,” He sunk his hard member into you, causing your head to tilt back. He was anything but gentle, moving in and out of you with long and hard strokes, “You’re such a bad girl.”

“Tell me you want my cum,” He grunted, breathing hard against your skin, “Tell me.”

“I want your cum,” You rushed out, an orgasm already building as he maintained his pace. You missed this so much. If there was one thing, you missed. He was the first person to ever make you cum without oral sex. Before him, you didn’t even know your body could do this. 

“Say it,” He continued, “Say it, little girl.”

He was going to slow down if you didn’t and that was the last thing you wanted, “I want your cum, Daddy,” You gasped out, your body convulsing beneath him, “I want it so bad, Daddy.” 

He finished deep inside you, your body tightly wrapping around him, and sweat covering your bodies. You were coming down from the high when the panic set in. Why did you let him do that? And why did you want it?

He was holding you and, as your tears began to fall, he pulled you into him, “It’s okay,” He cooed, “I’ve got ya’. You’re going to be just fine, Babydoll.”

+

part two

[astromaki]

part 2 of 5000 $ - shoto todoroki x fem!reader (1597 words)

part 1. (previous)

tw ; minors dni, angst, nsfw, toxic relationship, mention of cheating and breakup, shoto is a complete bastard here

you finally did it.

you broke up with him a week ago. for real this time, not like the last hundred times you'd yelled at him that he was a heartless jerk. just so he could get you into bed the second you calmed down.

no, you threw him in the trash the day after that party. by message, but it was a start.

even your social media status had gone from 'in a relationship' to 'single <3', you'd even reinstalled tinder, and accepted follow requests on instagram from those boys in the same class as you in college.

and shoto seemed to have abandoned you too. no news from him, and you hadn't even run into him on campus in the last few days.

so why did it still hurt to think about him ? why did your lips refuse to say his name ? and why the fuck did your sheets still smell like him despite the many machines ?

so you could tell that you felt a little joy when you saw this message.

he had sent you this two days ago.

and it's been two days, you've been wondering if it was a good idea to see him again right away.

never mind, you were already at his door. besides, you didn't have to talk to him, just take back what belonged to you and go home. it couldn't go wrong ? right ? it's ridiculous, you even had to convince yourself now.

you knocked, once, twice, three times. you could hear someone inside. and you knew he didn't have a roommate. this rich kid could buy the whole building if he wanted.

fuck. you just had to go in and get your stuff, and it's like you were never there. he wouldn't notice you were there.

you opened the door, and were surprised to see a second pair of shoes at the entrance next to shoto's sneakers. which is more like a pair of rather feminine shoes, pumps.

a strange feeling made you shiver. it wasn't like you to track down your exes, but you don't remember seeing a new girl with shoto on social medias.

slight, imperceptible sighs escaped from his room a little further into the apartment. bed squeaks, that male growl you knew all too well.

fuck. fucking hell.

you knew what it was, you knew what those noises were, who was causing them. why he had asked you to come and get those so-called forgotten things.

and yet you still walked to his room, your brain screaming at you to turn around and stay away from that boy and his unmitigated evil. your heart telling you the opposite, to keep going to find out if he still cared about you. no matter how small, you wanted to know, you had to know, if you ever meant anything to him.

or if you were just a joke, that he could throw a little money around.

"shoto, fuck, yes, right there oh fuc-"

you felt tears welling up in your eyes when you finally saw shoto vulgarly fucking a girl in that room, where you used to spend all your evenings.

but that wasn't the worst part. it was that he had taken your best friend to bed, ochako.

"you're so fucking good, i -" he says in a low voice.

he had already created that crack in your heart. but now ?

his blue and gray eyes finally met yours, his gaze was nothing but arrogance and contempt. the only things he ever felt for you. and even though he was fucking your best friend, busy pacing back and forth, he had the nerve to look you up and down. a smirk lit up his face.

and that asshole finally said the three words he never disdained to say to you.

"i love you ochako," he finally said, looking you straight in the eye. you're the best sex i've ever had. "

his words were spoken clearly, slowly, so that they were articulate for you to hear. a mixture of anger, and sorrow suddenly overtook you

as if you had come back to reality, you suddenly left the room. your steps were disordered, you had lost all your balance, gravity seemed to be slightly stronger. your hands dropped some objects on your way.

what was wrong with you? why?

ochako had finally noticed you after her orgasm, and weakly called out your name, as if begging you to come back would make things better. that he was cheating on you was one thing, but with her ? the one who had pushed you to leave him?

you could hear heavy footsteps following you down the hallway to the front door. and a muscular hand grabbed your wrist to turn you around in one simple motion.

obviously, who else ?

"so you just walk into people's houses without knocking now?"

wow, how did he manage to make you hate him a little more every time he opened his mouth ?

"stop it. don't mess with me. you sent me a message to come in today to get my stuff." your voice was firm.

his face was as haughty as ever, yet he already seemed a little more natural and relaxed than the other times. you would have found it attractive if it wasn't after a romp with your best friend.

"ah, that's right. and so it's okay? you got everything? "

his deceptively kind voice made you want to scream. to take anything and throw it at him. he still had this annoying habit of driving you crazy even after you'd broken up. you wanted to hurt him like he'd been hurting you for months.

but your shaky, broken voice didn't reflect your desires. you were about to cry.

"i don't understand why? why you're being so mean to me. i'm not stupid, shoto, i know that you invited me here today just to see you fuck her."

his face hadn't changed, nor had his eyes. he was glaring at you miserably. as usual.

"i was hoping we could talk if i came to your door so we could maybe work things out, get off to a good start." and it's true, that message he sent you had falsely given you false hope. and you had fallen off the deep end.

a slight sigh escaped his lips. that slight sigh that made the cup overflow.

"why do you care ? we broke up, right ?"he said it in such a carefree tone.

"fuk you shoto. fuck you. you don't even realize how fucking toxic you are! you throw money around to get what you want, you fuck with people and play with their feelings! you're a fucking asshole. and you're a lot like your father for someone who hates him deeply. "

your words of hatred and anger that you had been building up for weeks, for fucking months, poured out on him like a lava flow.

it was mean, it was sincere, and it hurt shoto. it hurt him to see that he had done too much this tim.

his emotionless gaze watched you get angry, cry, push him, hit him, dry your tears that he couldn't tell if they were of melancholy or rage. he saw you push his hand away as he tried desperately to calm you down.

you couldn't see it, too busy screaming and drying your tears, but you managed to wring a sincere expression from shoto.

he was just panicking. he was panicking because he knew he had crossed the point of no return. that not even $5,000 or $10,000 or even $50,000 would bring you back.

his love, full of flaws, who never knew a healthy role model from his parents, would not be enough to make you stay. not to leave him alone.

because we know the cliché, the rich boy who didn't know how to love. didn't even know how to make the one person who always cared about his own selfish self, stay. but that was shoto though. he was that boy who only had toxic love to give.

but please don't leave him for good, he was begging you mentally.

if he had put his pride aside to express himself or even make you understand, maybe you wouldn't have left.

"i hate you shoto todoroki. i fucking hate you. but know that you'll end up alone, you and your stupid money. and i'll be the first to laugh. "

fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.

" i- y/n just wait- "

he didn't think you'd hate him so much. the young man knew he was just an asshole with a fat bank account. he just thought that by fucking your best friend he'd get you to come back to him, out of desperation, out of a desperate love.

he didn't think he would feel such a pressure on his chest when he saw you slam the door, leaving him alone in the apartment with your best friend and a big hole in his heart.

he didn't think he'd regret his actions. he was a rich guy who always wanted what he wanted, whether it was money or sex. so you were easy. right ?

he never imagined that he would miss your perfume, your exasperating smiles, that he would miss you.

you were barely gone, and he knew he would miss you.

a/n ; i've never written such a nasty shoto sorry 😟 kinda want to leave this story like this...

please lemme know what you thought about this second part, should i make a third one ? (+ reblogs are appreciated <3)

🔖 taglist; @deepestranchgoopdeputy @kizuatonoaiko

[heli0s-writes]

Bucky Barnes with a whole ‘heart eyes muthafucker’ hoe phase for reader but reader’s lizard brain isn’t connecting the dots and instead is like “somebody come get your mans pls he has a really dumb puppy look on his face and i am concerned for his health”

A/N: 800 words of nonsense and 1 conversation about Cap’s erection. Crack. Spicy like a little red pepper flake.

Bag of Tricks one-shots

You’ve always had a sixth sense about things. When you were younger, your family and friends often thought it was an ability— but in truth, it’s just a mixture of careful perception, logical thinking, and educated guessing.  

A little Sherlock Holmes kind of talent. Except less cocaine and no Watson.  

Regardless, Tony calls it your reading.  

“Hey, mind-reader, tell me if Cap’s gotten laid in the past year or not?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably across the room, and that’s all you need.  

“He’s gotten it way more than you. Real wild stuff. The girls could barely take it, Tony.”

Steve flushes a shockingly bright crimson and hides his face in his palms.

“Shit!” Tony cries in disbelief, panicking before making his quick exit, hollering for Pepper down the hall.  

“Jesus.” Beneath your stretched-out legs, Bucky bounces his knee and tugs on his jacket spread over your shoulders. His other hand flips the pages of a book, forearm rubbing lightly on your thigh.

“That was just one time…” Steve mutters embarrassed, and you hide your knowing smirk. You didn’t have to read anyone’s mind to predict that in the last eight months Captain America has gotten laid at least once-- and considering his rabid fanbase, someone has got to be into something kinky.  

Truthfully, you think, Steve’s probably the kinky one. All that pent-up energy for the last 70 years has got to be... explosive. Under your gaze, he squirms and rearranges himself awkwardly.  

“Well, I gave you a gift: now Tony thinks you’re packin’ and you lay pipe. Use it for evil, Rogers.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Bucky groans again, “What did we say about your choice of words around others?” He snaps the book shut and slaps your chest with it.

Unbothered, you turn back to Steve, who is trying desperately to communicate to Bucky with his eyes— sharp jerking motions, probably code for the manual on how to shut you up. Nah. There ain’t one.

“Steve…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, “It’s big, isn’t it?”

“Okay!” Bucky yells, pushing you off the couch, “That’s enough of that. I’m going shooting.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Buck!”

The scape of the chair legs signals Steve standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his... measurements. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Steve points sharply down the hall to where Bucky’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Steve cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Bucky? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning jogs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Bucky? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think. And you just spent ten minutes talking about his best friend’s dick.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest and then you’re outta there.  

“Buck!” You scream, tearing down the hallway. “Buck! Bucky! I’m sorry! Bucky oh my god! I’m a fuck up!”  

You bang on the glass separating you from the cracks of his pistol and he turns slightly confused, one hand on the side of his earmuffs.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, his jacket, half-on, half-off.  

Bucky raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front is sliding from your shoulder and puts the gun down.

-

“You’re so stupid.”  

An annoyed sigh before a sharp inhale takes its place. He peels his bomber off your back and throws it onto the floor. His mouth hasn’t left yours for anything other than to breathe.

His hands stop at the button of his jeans. The room is spinning— the entire world moving too fast in a feverish haze. Years of close-quartered friendship and the first intimate touch has jumped right into the deep end. You don’t even know when the two of you made way back into his room, but the door clicks shut with a kick from his foot.

“Hey, mind-reader, I got two questions for you.” Bucky calls impishly. “First, how big do you think I am?”

“Second…”

You gulp. Your legs feel like jelly— all the smart words in the entire world wiped completely from existence. The pause he takes is punishingly long and the grin he gives you nearly makes you faint.  

“Do you think you can take it?”