#run don’t walk to listen to this commentary it’s so fucking good

[katara-stan-club]

I put on Crimson Peak with director’s commentary, and GDT said that the American’s costumes were machine sewn while the Sharpe’s costumes were hand sewn, and I am yelling at the top of my lungs!!!!! I love this movie!!!

[ninyard]

OBSESSED w mic’d up content nin

ME TOO im thinking

- Matt strutting over to Kevin and nudging him to say, “Do you think we could convince Coach to let Neil go in defense again? I’m getting kind of bored,” and Kevin’s like “Dude. You’re Mic’ed up.” And Matt just looks around the stadium into one of the cameras and waves before grinning like, “oopsie daisies”

- Of course Jeremy saying thank you every time he gets the ball is so real to me but his good sportsmanship showing up all the time because he’s Mic’ed up. Helping up his opponents with a “Are you okay, you good? That sounded like it hurt.” Him cheering on anyone else when they get possession

- Nicky dodging a check and running away like, “Cant touch this dunununnun dunun dunun can’t touch this”

- also Nicky yelling everytime someone gets close to him. Kevin telling him to stop screaming and he’s like “but it’s so scawwy 🥺”

- Kevin letting out a little “woohoo!” After he scores and it’s so unexpected and cute. Neil jogs over to him like, “Did you just… woohoo?” And he just tells him to go away

- Renee with her quiet little shows of support. Little whispers of “Yess” and “let’s go!” And “goooood shot very nice”

- Allison being fake flirty with her teammates. Walking over to Dan like “BITCH you looked so hot when you got that ball you’re KILLING IT”

- I think Matt would be the funniest. He spills water on himself and he’s like “Call me a basketballer the way I’m dribbling,” and Aaron is like “What did you just say?” “Don’t worry about it.”

- just the singing. I think Nicky would be dramatically singing all the time. Him doing a little Don’t Rain On My Parade like “DONT tell me not to LIIIIIVE just sit and PUTTAH” and the play starts coming towards him “Don’t rain on my parraaaaaaaad-“ before he screams and checks someone

- Aaron beatboxing while he’s waiting for play to resume

- Neil’s running commentary, “What are you DOING?” “What WAS that?” “Are you kidding me? Are you actually kidding me?” “Jesus Christ.” “No, the ball goes this way, Matt, what the hell.”

- Also Matt taunting the other side, “Hey buddy!” “Fuck off” “Oooooh that’s not very nice. Onto the benches with you. I’ll take the ball specifically from you now and it’s all your fault. And listen, man, I’m not even sorry.”

- They make the decision to mic up Andrew once, and to everyone’s surprise, he’s actually like. Commentating like Neil is. “Wrong way, Dan.” “I’m bored. Will someone do something exciting?” Followed by some oofs and ahs and when someone shoots at him he blocks it like, “Not today.”

[chaggie4ever]

Hello. Me again. I was wondering if you could make a post of how Charlie steamrolls Vaggie. I know it's a recurring flaw but I wanted to hear from you.

Of course. I’ve been wanting to make a Chaggie flaws post for a bit so this can be at least part 1 XD preface with I ADORE them (sometimes with a side of Lute/Vaggie) and flaws are part of any good relationship. My very gay wife and I have many but remain very happily married for over three years now :)

Also having just rewatched AGAIN this is fresh 😎 (#idontknowhowmanytimesiverewatchednowpleasesendhelp). So we immediately open into a Disney-esque song that Vaggie begs Charlie not to sing (in the original AND new pilots!) Charlie literally sings over her and runs down the street, annoying everyone in the pride ring. She ignores Vaggie’s commentary and (insider) advice. When she gets back, we see one of the rare cases that Vaggie IS NOT fully in tune with Charlie’s emotions and pushes her to watch the commercial before she can vent about the meeting. This may be intentional to cheer her up though 🧐

Ep2 Chaggie is cute and supportive and more involves Charlie steamrolling Angel and his emotions in favor of Sir Pentious.

Ep3 Charlie flings the whole trust exercise on Vaggie, who is very obviously uncomfortable with this. Ideally she would have given Vaggie a heads up before in front of everyone… or at least recognized that discomfort. But nope. Completely steamrolled. To her credit, Charlie is the first to volunteer and later DOES apologize for putting too much pressure on Vaggie.

But the rooftop. The fucking rooftop. Charlie interrupts the one consensual throwing into a turf war (Nifty REALLY wanted to be thrown XD). Then when Vaggie literally says that she is NOTHING if she isn’t useful, Charlie DOESNT CORRECT HER. Like dude. You don’t try saying “you do so much” in that situation. You tell your girl to fucking love herself dammit and that her self worth should not revolve around you! But it’s like Charlie doesn’t even hear this… she wants to put a bandaid on but she needs to stop the actual bleeding here. And doesn’t. She leaves. Yes Vaggie asked her to but sometimes you should persist a bit more imho. Instead we see an awesome power ballad (also her Assassin’s Creed climbs bro), where Vaggie sings about “it felt so good to be understood” after THIS convo XD I’m sorry I can’t. Gurl you are more than armor, please love yourself. Notably, Charlie IS NOT HAPPY even when the residents are bonding (her one goal right?), until Vaggie is ok. And this scene is very cute and sweet.

Ep4 is more Huskerdust focused, but we do get some cute supportive girlfriend talk and Charlie actually listening. The one time it backfires XD I AM glad Vaggie doesn’t put this all on herself when Charlie returns home devastated.

Ep5 is more Charlie+Lucifer but we get a cute intro to future father-in-law (guys. Why are they not engaged yet?? I was in like three months XD) good tour, minimal steamrolling that I can find. Charlie does completely miss Vaggie’s reaction to Lucifer talking about heaven sucking, but she was facing the other way and kinda focused on him. And she does not notice Vaggie’s very obvious fake enthusiasm over going to heaven at the end.

Ep6 - the BIG ONE. Charlie seemingly does not care about Vaggie’s discomfort going to heaven. Like dude, at least ask why? Maybe? Or do you even notice the VERY obvious hesitancy on every convo about heaven? Idk if she was assuming she knew or just was too excited and missed it. But this happens so many times this episode. Yes, Vaggie REALLY should have given Charlie at least a heads up about what she was walking into. But it helps when someone asks “what’s wrong?”… especially for those of us who are emotionally constipated and trauma-fueled…

Ep7 is frustrating - how long has Vaggie been on the couch now? A week? Their confrontation is so painful. Like can you think of a reason Vaggie may have lied or just not corrected you about this major aspect of her life? Girl has had your back for three years essentially without question. You need to talk. Not cry for a week. But again, Charlie comes first and Vaggie hates herself too much to combat this. Especially right now. Charlie can focus on nothing else all day until she finally learns actions mean more than words. Meanwhile Vaggie gets the shit beaten out of her and reminded to live for others. As much as I love this scene, I do NOT love having a person as a “reason to live.” I hope she develops beyond this but if this is what Vaggie needs to survive life right now so be it (I actually meant to type Lute instead of life but both work XD)

Their apology is super cute and I think there will be some great wing fun in bed tonight XD Vaggie IS steamrolled here again but this time it’s more legitimate imho. Charlie should not let her apologize after how she treated her today. They BOTH need to apologize dammit.

And finally ep8 - very minimal steamrolling I could find! They are just adorable and perfect in every way. Wow that ended up long XD sorry and you’re welcome? XD

[moxleyhorror]

Dating Otis Driftwood

So after reading this post

https://www.tumblr.com/houseofthegeneticcarnivals/718578599485227008/a-twisted-love-story-otis-driftwood-x-reader?source=share

(I'd suggest reading that before this) I got inspired to write a little about Otis and my OC Mercy. After a lot of writing, deleting, writing more, deleting again. I decided I'd take the original post and write short little drabbles/fics to go with each part. Now its not my best work, but I'm happy with it enough to post. I did go a little OOC with Otis, but I tried to stay true to his character as much as I could. I ended up combining number 3 and 5 together, because I think they fit well.

Thank you @houseofthegeneticcarnivals (The original post creator) for inspiring me, and thank you @myers-meadow for helping me figure out the complex emotions of Otis Driftwood.

Unconventional Courtship

“You see! This is why a chainsaw is not an effect method of killing people” Mercy popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, “But chainsaws are messy and fun” Otis shrugged, “Only if the victim is already captured, don’t go running around in the dark with a huge chainsaw, that’s exactly how you’re going to get injured”, “Talking of weapons, I got you something” Otis stood up and walked to the kitchen, returning a moment later holding something behind his back. Mercy knelt on the couch, her eyes lighting up as Otis held out a large, bowie knife, the handle was cherry wood with an eagle carved into it. Mercy took the knife, twirling it in her hands, “Its beautiful” she said, “Thank you!”. Otis sat back down, “I had to trade with that Stucky, Spaulding’s pal, he’s into some fucked up shit” he laughed. Mercy kissed Otis on the cheek and then settled back into his side, admiring the shine of the blade. The pair fell into silence as the chase on the TV screen continued. The house was unusually quiet, so Otis and Mercy had taken the opportunity to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre on the VCR. Mercy rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath, “What’s the matter now?” Otis sighed, feigning annoyance, but deep down he enjoyed listening to Mercy’s twisted commentary, “Why did they have to kill the hitchhiker guy? He was such a good character, and now he can’t be in the sequel” Mercy pouted, “Who knows, maybe he has a twin brother we don’t know about yet” Otis shrugged. Mercy put down her bowl of popcorn and crawled onto Otis’s lap, “Maybe you should chase me around with a chainsaw” she ran the tip of the blade up the side of his throat, “Then when you catch me, you can tie me up and have your wicked way with me”. Otis chuckled and dug his fingertips into Mercy’s waist, “Or we could skip the chainsaw and go straight to the tying up” …

2. Dark and Dangerous

The drinks were flowing, and the air was heavy with cigarette smoke. It had been a good evening, dancing, laughing, drinking. Otis, Baby, Mercy, and RJ had decided to visit a bar, to drink away their problems and have a good time. At that moment the girls were dancing, having picked up two men to flirt with. Otis watched from a table in the back, his trousers becoming tight as he watched Mercy grinding against the stranger, hands groping her smooth skin. Otis enjoyed watching Mercy with other men, it gave him a sense of pride to know that he had Mercy 24/7, and they only had her for a mere moment. “Won’t your boyfriend mind?” the man whispered into Mercy’s ear as she ground her ass into him, “Of course not, If he minded you wouldn’t be breathing right now” Mercy leaned her head back against his shoulder as he chuckled nervously, not sure if she was joking or not, “I’ll sneak out the back, you follow in a moment” Mercy winked at him and skipped off, looking around before slipping out the back door. She didn’t have to wait long until the man joined her. His hands immediately coming to paw at her breasts, his lips attacking her neck. Mercy moaned softly, her eye lids fluttering closed. Suddenly, the man stopped. Mercy opened her eyes to see the man’s face had fallen, from a lust filled smile, to utter fear. Then he dropped to the floor, revealing Otis standing behind him, a knife in his hand, dripping blood, “Hey mama” he smiled. Mercy scowled and glanced down the alley they were standing in, “What did you do that for?”, “I changed my mind about him, I didn’t like his face” Otis shrugged. Mercy sighed and bent down, reaching into the man’s pocket, “What are you doing?” Otis asked, “He might as well pay for the next round of drinks” …

3. A Savage Sense of Humour

Mercy wiped the mixture of blood and sweat from her forehead, her breathing heavy as she stepped back from the scene in front of her. Blood covered every inch of her, pieces of flesh, and splinters of bone littered the floor and even the walls, the lifeless bodies of 2 young men lay in fragments in the middle of the room. Otis opened the door, eyes wide at the mess, “What happened here?” he asked. Mercy didn’t take her gaze off the bodies, her eye twitching, “They called me crazy” she spoke quietly. Otis laughed and stepped beside Mercy, taking the axe from her hands, “You know we are all a little crazy in this house mama”. Mercy looked up at him, blood dripping down her face, “No, not crazy” she said, “Chaotic, dark, even twisted, but not crazy”. Otis put his arm around Mercy’s waist, “Maybe we should change your name, because Mercy is definitely not something you give” he laughed again, “We could call you psycho, but then you’d have to start dressing up in your mama’s skin and killing people in the shower” Mercy chuckled, “I can think of better things to do in the shower” she bit her lip, “Well why didn’t you say something sooner!” Otis cried, gripping Mercy’s hand and dragging her towards the bathroom…

4. An Unbreakable Bond and a Love Beyond Sanity

Otis collapsed onto the bed beside Mercy, spent and breathless, “We’re good at that” he laughed, “That’s for damn sure” Mercy reached up to grab a joint from the bedside cabinet, lighting it and taking a long drag before passing it to Otis, “You trust me, don’t you?” Mercy was taken aback by the question, “Of course, why?”, “Well, I was thinking, I’d really like it if you were to take my name” Mercy sat up, looking down at her lover in confusion, “Do you mean like marriage?” she asked. Otis shrugged and sat up, “If you want to call it that, would be funny to go around calling you my wife” he laughed, “But no sentimental bullshit, no standing in front of some fucking preacher man, saying I do”. Mercy thought for a moment, “Mercy Driftwood” she grinned, “I do think we should mark the occasion though” Mercy leaned down and pulled her knife from under the mattress, crawling to straddle Otis’s lap. She took Otis’s arm, and delicately cut an ‘M’ into the soft skin of his wrist, then sliced a nice deep cut across his palm before handing him the knife, “Now you do me” she offered her arm and Otis carved an ‘O’ and cut her palm, “Now we do this” Mercy clasped Otis’s hand, pressing the cuts together, “Now we will always be connected, by blood”. Otis smiled, and the two cupped each other’s faces in their hands, spreading the blood across their cheeks, “I thought I said no sentimental bullshit, my wife”, Mercy smirked, “It’s sentimental in our own way, my husband” the two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, before bursting into laughter, Mercy leaning in to press a soft kiss to Otis’s lips.

[adultswim2021]

The Venture Bros. #36: “Tears of a Sea Cow” | July 20, 2008 - 11:30PM | S03E08

The Monarch isn’t allowed to arch Dr. Venture anymore, and this episode is about him defying the bonds of his Guild affiliation and going over to the Venture compound to fuck it up with Hench people 21 and 24. They decide to do this because Dr. Venture and Brock are out of town.

What they don't know is that Hank and Dean are left home alone (or maybe they do! I didn’t do a good enough job listening to all the dialogue!). Hank has his no-goodnik friend Dermot over and we see the first inklings of their band, Shallow Gravy (they haven’t arrived at the name yet, though). They also go camping in the yard and have a run-in with Henchman 21, who tells Hank that he’s an immortal, since he’s personally seen (and at least once caused) his death multiple times. He shoots Hank with what he assumes is a fatal dart, but turns out to be a tranq, causing Hank to believe he actually is a Highlander. 

Meanwhile, the Monarch breaks into Dr. Venture’s lab and messes some stuff up, including GUARDO, who we saw in Home Insecurity. The Monarch spitefully makes love to the ailing robot and Dean walks in and catches him. The Monarch psyches him out by pretending that he’s playing some game to get Dean to betray his own good nature by tattling on him. Eventually Dr. Girlfriend gets him out of there before anyone’s the wiser. Those are basically what make up the main story beats of this episode.

I consider this one to be a decent hang, and maybe my favorite of this comparatively lackluster run. Not much in this one stands out to me as amazing or particularly hilarious, but I don’t think anything’s particularly wrong with it, either. This is the same spirit of episodes I really love; one where it’s mostly about the characters interacting and letting moments breathe. The biggest thing this episode is lacking, though, is Dr. Venture and Brock, who only appear in a brief cutaway at their science conference. As mentioned in the commentary, this helped the Venture crew stay under budget, seeing as how the cast consisted of three actors (two of whom were Jackson and Doc). 

There’s a lot made of the title of this episode in the commentary and the reason for that is that apparently this ran in some TV guides as “Murder O’Clock”, which they changed when they finished the closing credits of the episode. Doc remarked that he’s bad at titling things, and forever knows this episode as his initial title of “Goes to Compound”. I agree it’s a bad title! It refers to the cold open and nothing else, so I always look at this title and think "that's the one where the Monarch kills the Seacow guy in the cold open" and remember nothing else.

In the cold open, the Monarch half-heartedly arches a good guy named Dr. Dugong, who is half human/half manatee. This is my least favorite part of the episode, and my least favorite joke that The Venture Bros. tells. Because of bureaucratic Guild of Calamitous Intent policy, The Monarch is not allowed to follow his truth bliss of arching Dr. Venture. Since this villain and hero have been jammed together by the guild, we have these super heroes and villains all self-consciously playing a role and acting almost as though as they’re reading from a script.

The point of it is that it’s dispiriting, and it works as a set-up for the rest of the episode. I just find it unfunny and as joyless to watch as it must feel in-universe. There’s almost nowhere you can take that premise and have it be interesting. The scene ends with The Monarch, at the urging of Dr. Mrs. the Monarch, telling him to just pretend his new foe is Dr. Venture. He does, and murders him in a crime of mistaken passion, which lands him in hot water with the guild. This bit winds up weighing on the overall story of the series when the Ventures move to New York and we find out he was the relative of a main antagonist. 

Other things worth noting: Dean’s mimeographed Venture news paper is memorable. It’s implied that Henchman 21 wrote to the advice column about his unrequited crush on Dr. Mrs. the Monarch, which first came up in season two during the first Dr. Killinger episode. This gets developed as the series progresses. Dermot also claims to be Brock’s long-lost son to evade a confrontation with 24. This is also the beginning of 21’s insistence that he and 24 are like “main characters” in a TV show, a delusion that winds up getting dashed at the end of the season. 

There’s also a reference that caused me to rent and be disappointed by a motion picture: Eddie and the Cruisers. Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives is sitting on my Plex server as we speak and will likely never be watched (or, for mental illness reasons, deleted) as long as I’m alive. The show loves referring to forgotten, lame movies. Sharky’s Machine, aside from one really impressive stunt, is also a bore. 

Robot Chicken: Star Wars DVD (July 22, 2008)

When I was at the height of collecting Adult Swim on DVD, I bargained with myself that I would not buy the DVDs for shows that I heavily disliked. But, what I WOULD DO is, is I would rent the DVDs from Netflix and make a DVD-R copy of them. I would also print out a copy of the cover and include it in my collection of Adult Swim DVDs, which I kept together, organized by earliest episode’s air-date for each volume. It was convoluted, but I liked seeing them in rough-chronological order on the shelf, lord help me. I also made custom DVDs and covers for shows that didn’t have official releases. I sometimes get the urge to put it all back that way on my current shelves. I am almost 40 years old.

I guess what I’m saying is, even though I don’t like Robot Chicken, and I especially don’t like Robot Chicken: Star Wars, I still at one point possessed a DVDShrink-authored DVD-R of the DVD’s contents, and marveled at how much extra stuff was on there. There was literally like 5 audio commentary tracks on this fucking thing. I think one of them had George Lucas’ kids on it. Ugh. I hate that I know that. I didn’t look that up, I swear. I just remembered this. There are literally girls who I had crushes on whose names escape me, and I remember who participated in the fifth audio commentary track of the Robot Chicken Star Wars DVD. Goodbye, everyone *kills self*

[wizkiddx]

3 hearts broken

I did an angst thing again oops also not proof read double oops

summary: an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

warnings: alot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) idk anything else except commitment issues?

////////////////////////////////////////////

It was an argument you and your boyfriend regularly had. In fact, it was the only argument the two of you ever had. And especially recently, one that Tom seemed to want to have every day. It didn’t matter where you were on set; in the rental home; out for dinner. Or like now… in the airport lounge.

You were sitting across from each other in a semi-private booth. Tom in his joggers and a burgundy hoodie, you in your black leggings and an oversized tee that actually belonged to your boyfriend. The rest of the place was almost deserted, given the late-night time of the flight. It was probably why Tom felt so comfortable bringing up this touchy subject in a public place.

You were both way past overtired too, owing to the end of a gruelling shoot. All you wanted was to get back to London and get into your own bed. Without an unnecessary fight with Tom.

Unfortunately for you, when you had naively said those exact words, Tom’s overtired brain skipped straight to it being a personal attack.

“I don’t see why you can’t commit to moving in Y/n! We practically live together for filming anyway so-“

“I love you Tom, more than I could ever express. I just… I can’t do this yet. I need… more-“

“More time, I know.” He grumbled, already standing and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder - as the flight’s gate was announced by the intercom. Had he not already turned his back and started heading along the hallway, you would’ve tried to protest and calm him down. But thanks to his urgency to get away from you… all you could do was sigh. Slumping back against the seat before hauling yourself up and grabbing the bags - that he had helped you with on the way in.

No doubt this would be a long flight.

That it was. Tom had been maturely giving you the silent treatment at the gate, as you were boarding, and finding you seats. You were both in first class, so you had adjacent little pods with a little partition in the middle. It’s standard position was to be lowered however, before you’d even been able to settle into your window seat, Tom had already switched to button to have it slowly slide up.

Real fucking mature.

Thinking he just needed some time to cool off, you rolled your eyes but let him be. Even though you were such a frequent flier, you were terrible at getting any sleep on them. Tom knew this, knew how much you disliked the idea of being hurtling through the air in a tin can. Usually, he’d be holding your hand, entertaining you by watching a movie and providing a shit commentary over the top. Sometimes, when you were both as exhausted as right now, he’d even slide into your chair, having you perch on top of him so you could fall asleep listening to his heartbeat in his chest. Now though? He refused to acknowledge your existence.

Tom never had such issues flying, he was like a switch that could just choose to fall asleep at any and every point. Which is perhaps why it shocked you to see him still wide awake, staring angrily at the corner of his pod when you went to the loo, hours later. Thinking it was time for a peace offering, on the return to your seat you made eye contact and began to smile softly at him. However, that plan lasted for all of two seconds, since as soon as he realised you had seen him staring, Tom instantly shut his eyes - playing asleep.

He really was being particularly stubborn tonight.

By the time the plane landed, he’d still refused to say anything - and it was starting to really piss you off too. You’d tried to be mature, tried to offer the metaphorical olive branch and he had quite literally thrown it back in your face. So by the time you were being escorted off the plane (first because you were first class), you hung back from your boyfriend, wanting to have your own space.

Which was exactly why you didn’t want to give up your own apartment yet!

The two of you walked across the bridge into the terminal with a good 8 metres between each other. Tom didn’t bother to turn round and check on you, taking purposeful steps as though he wanted to get away.

Thankfully the terminal was quiet, probably due to the ungodly hour in the morning you’d landed at. The halls echoed only with your and Toms footsteps, the echo exaggerating just how far away you felt from him at this point. Still, Tom hadn’t acknowledged your existence, or anyone elses for that matter - the pair of you almost got to baggage reclaim before seeing any other humans.

And that is where it all went wrong.

It was typical, an otherwise empty airport except for you, Tom and a family with 2 girls. 2 teenage girls. 2 teen girls whose eyes widened to almost comical levels at the sight of your boyfriend. You’d seen them from a mile away, but from Tom’s reaction to them - he clearly hadn’t.

In fact, you were such a distance away you couldn’t exactly hear the exchange. But what you saw, had your heart in your mouth.

The girls ran over from the seats their whole family were sitting in, squealing at Tom with that overcited little jump you’d seen so often. Instead of Tom turning to them and entertaining them with small talk and a photo or two - he did the opposite. If anything, he quickened his cadence, looked as though he waved the girls off without muttering two words.

And maybe there was a reason. Maybe they had shouted something really rude at him - but fuck, the chances were slim. One looked ten, and one looked a couple of years older - as you approached, you saw the dejected and shocked faces melt into ones of intense disappointment. The eldest turned and hugged the younger, whose chest appeared to be shaking in a way that meant only one thing. Tom had made her cry.

Just as both the mother and father stood up to rush to the girls, you matched their hurried steps - getting their first.

“Hi, excuse me… “

You felt really awkward but knew you had to do something for these poor girls. And quite possibly for Toms career too. “Are you guys okay?” It took a second or two, but the girls clearly both recognised you too (thank god), throwing nervous looks at each other.

“Are yo-you Y/n?” The younger one asked, bright eyes glazed in tears which broke your heart to see.

“Yeh-yeh I am, what are your names?” You knelt, smiling warmly at the girls, who seemed to chirp up a bit.

“I’m Tima” The eldest spoke first before nudging the other to speak. You waited patiently till the little girl had wiped her eyes before replying.

“I’m Azara.”

“Wow, you’ve both got very beautiful names. Where are you both headin-“

“Can I ask you a question!?” Litte Azara burst out, interrupting you, but in the cutest and sweetest way. You just laughed and said of course, as she twiddled with her thumbs nervously.

“How big is the biggest T-rex?” Her little eyes were so curious and you had to suppress a giggle, seeing how serious it was.

Of course, the T-Rexs in Jurassic world (one of your movies) were all CGI. But Azara didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, they are bigger thanthan the tallest trees you’ve ever seen!”

You carried on your little chat with the girls for five or so minutes, laughing with them and exchanging soft nods with their parents too - who seemed appreciative of your time. Eventually, though, it was the dad who pulled time on the exchange, signalling that the girls had taken up enough of your time. As you stood up, Tima spoke up - after being relatively withdrawn from the conversation.

“You’re friends with Tom Holland right?” You nodded, subconsciously biting your lip to see what she would say. “Can you tell him sorry for bothering him, it’s just Azara was excited, we only wanted to say hi.”

Yeh, there was absolutely no way these incredibly sweet girls did anything to Tom. He was just being a knob.

“Hey, it’s not your fault at all. We’ve just had a really, really long flight, and he’s in a bit of a mood at me - I’m so sorry that he let it out on you.”

That explanation seemed to satisfy Tima with a nod, and with some final hugs you bid the girls both farewell. By this point, the rest of your plane had caught up along the corridors, so it was busier, and you had to fight against the small crowd to get through the airport as quickly as possible. Because you were seething with rage for Tom and could not wait to tell him exactly what those poor girls thought of him.

Unsurprisingly Tom had chosen not to wait for you in the airport at all, instead already hiding inside the blacked-out windows of the 4x4 waiting at the collection point. You marched up to that car angry to the point you thought the whole airport would notice. Yanking the door so hard you were surprised you did no damage to it, you threw your bags in - momentarily ignoring the sight of Tom huddled into a corner, staring at his phone with AirPods in.

But once you slammed the door shut and the driver started the car, you let yourself go.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“Y/n can we just leave it for- “

“You made 2 girls cry!!! You were so self-absorbed in your temper tantrum that you made 2 teenage girls cry. You proud of yourself?”

This time he did look at you, eyes wide and confused - clearly not understanding. So you continued - laying it out for him.

“Those two girls you waved off because you were so busy running away from me? Well the youngest one cried and then the eldest didn’t speak and when she did it was only to ask me to apologise to you. You’re a fucking dickhead!”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Oh god, that makes it all better. You didn’t mean to make them cry on purpose, so it’s fine! God if you’d only said I’d-“

“Fuck off Y/n you’re not being fair, cut the sarcasm.”

“I’m not being fair?!? Because I’m the bad person in this situation, right? I just saved you from a very, very bad headline tomorrow morning because you were too busy giving me the silent treatment.”

“Yeah, well, your the one who doesn’t seem to give a damn about me!”

You scoffed hard at his words, air trapped in your throat that now felt completely stuck. How could he say that? How could he even think that?

As much as you hated showing it, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Because who the fuck did he think he was.

“Now that, that is so unfair. You know exactly my history and why I don’t want to move in yet AND you know just how much I fucking love you. So don’t you dare.”

“You're not convincing anyone.” He spoke quieter, but the venom behind his tone was still there. As the first tear escaped over your bottom lashes, you knocked on the partition to the driver and asked him, in no uncertain terms, to pull over.

“Congrats Tom. That’s three women you’ve broken the hearts of in 20 minutes. Must be some sort of a record.”

And with that you slammed the door shut, abandoned on the side of the road somewhere within Heathrow.

?a part 2? idk where id go from here aha

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala

[twinkleimagines]

frenemies

summary: You catch feelings for your nemesis Rafe Cameron and notice his change of how he started interacting with you, so you begin and hoping he feels the same, so you decide to take the risk to confront him and see what his true intentions are.

5.5k words

LONG!

Part two, part 3 , part four (final)

Warning: Language, smut, physical and verbal fighting.

Rafe Cameron.

The most loved and also the most hated Kook in the OBX.

You and your pogue friends despised this guy, or at least you were suppose to.

But for some reason, between all the bickering you two had done over the summer, you've managed to fall for him.

I know- what the fuck.

It blew your mind too. He was never nice. Always making fun of the Pogues, practically humiliating you all every chance he got. You guys were nothing but broke thieves who took whatever you wanted no matter who it hurt. You guys were scum, the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, a bunch of nobody's that will never make it anywhere in life.

Which is obviously not true, but to Rafe - that's what you ‘dirty Pogues’ were.

You didn’t care for the name calling though. You honestly could say the same thing about the Kooks. They cheat their way into life, never have to work for anything , always have mommy and daddy's money to get them through any obstacle. But you knew not all Kooks were like that. Take your best friend Kiara for example. She's a 'kook' by the book, but by the streets she’s a Full Pogue at heart.

but for some reason though, Rafe would spend most his time trying to find a way to harass the shit out of you specifically. He could have a million Pogues around him yet he always found his way through the crowd to have some conversation with you even if it was to drag your name through the mud.

You first realized the feelings you had for Rafe when you began craving his presence.

It was the annual bonfire that you and your friends had went to , a place where all teens and young adults mixed from all clicks. Tourists, Pogues, and even Kooks. Everyone was there.

You stood next to the fire with JJ and Pope, two of your closest friends as the night grew louder, more people filling in. You watched the crowds as the piled up on the sand, but your eyes roamed for Rafe himself. You were almost mad at yourself for actively searching for him. And it wasn’t even like you were looking for him so you could avoid him, but searching so you could see him and hopefully grab his attention.

You continuously questioned yourself as to Why you were looking for this jerk off to begin with. All he was going to do was put you down and try to humiliate you in front of all of your friends.

But for some reason, when your eyes landed on that tall brown headed boy, his hair for once not greased back, a wide grin on his face as he wore a black t-shirt and a red cup in his hand- your heart fluttered. You began to grin slightly, seeing him in the distance.

Despite how much of an ass hole he was, Rafe was unbelievably hot. He was toned, Tall, jaw line so sharp it could probably cut you and you could get lost in those blue eyes of his. It excited you so much when he would give you attention. Even the negative attention. At this point you just enjoyed looking at him and hearing your name flow out of his mouth.

"earth to Y/n" JJ spoke out stepping out in front of you blocking your view to Rafe, and ultimately bringing you out of your trance.

“huh” you responded dumbfounded .

“Pope thinks I’m stupid for eating food with mold on it” JJ said throwing his hands up, you grin as you watched the blonde boy try to seriously defend his theory. Pope’s eyes widened throwing his hands up as well, looking towards you for agreement.

“It’s a Fungi bro! nothing good comes from Eating mold!” Pope argued back. JJ shook his head, disagreeing with Pope’s statement .

“dude, mold is good for you ok it’s just a natural organism “ He stated, dropping his hands down to his sides.

“You’re fucking nasty” You laughed out before pushing onto JJ’s shoulder. You hadn’t realized it yet, but your laugh caught a certain boy’s attention. the moment Rafe heard that familiar tune, his head turned to your direction, his eyes focused on you as you threw your head back with laughter.

“Well well well if it isn’t Ms. Sarah Cameron “ JJ spoke as he walked up towards one of your best friend, John B, and Rafe’s younger sister, Sarah. They both looked in your direction taking a few steps away from each other as if it wasn’t obvious that they were talking.

You didn’t hate Sarah per-say, but one time she did make out with your ex boyfriend while at a party. She claimed he told her he was single and she was just looking for a good night but Sarah was known for always wanting attention so you were doubtful on the fact that she was ‘unaware’ that he was your boyfriend.

You were the only one who knew John B’s crush on Sarah. He had started working for her father after his father went missing, and you were the only one who had caught on to his different approach when Sarah was ever mentioned, or how his cheeks would go slightly red when she would walk by. You didn’t blame him, the Cameron siblings were fucking hot.

“Hi JJ’ Sarah said with a grin. You stood to the side of Pope, looking around for Kiara, only to find her sat with a group of more Pogues talking their heads off.

JJ began trying to include Sarah into his previous ‘mold is good for you’ argument while your focus drifted off, your eyes roaming the crowd once again.

You managed to look back over to where you had first saw Rafe standing, only this time he was no where to be found.

“sarah baby c’mon” you heard someone say. You looked over, Your eyes widening to see Rafe and Topper standing in front of you next to Sarah. You knew this wasn’t a group that needed to be mixed, but seeing Rafe excited you. Your eyes landed on his, your heart beginning to flutter. You hated the fact that you two were enemies. It sucked looking at someone the way you did, knowing they were only looking back at you with hatred and pure disgust. At least you thought.

“Oh c’mon Topper can’t the girl just have a little fun?” JJ laughed out, his alcohol clearly running through his veins.

“You Pogues don’t know the meaning of fun JJ” Topper laughed out. You rolled your eyes shaking your head.

“Go the fuck on Topper “ you spat out, your eyes lifting some towards Rafe before going back to Topper. You could feel yourself kicking up a sweat, maybe from the alcohol , or maybe from the fact that Rafe’s eyes were already on yours when you looked at him. He even had a smirk plastered on his face, probably from the fact he gets off on the fighting.

“Oooohhh someone’s ballsy tonight huh?” Topper laughed bringing the attention to you.

“No im just sick and tired of you stuck up kooks always trying to ruin a good time” You scoffed out, crossing your arms over chest.

“Y/n you wouldn’t know the meaning of a good time if it slapped you in the face alright?” Rafe said. He furrowed his brows together when he realized a smirk rising on your face once you looked over at him. He didn’t know what to think considering the other times you were giving him an ‘ eat shit ‘ look, but this time it was almost as if you were happy he was commenting towards you.

“Oh right, having random hook ups and snorting a line of coke every night is a good time huh Rafe?” You scoffed out sarcastly. “ yeah I think I’ll pass” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“ Listen JJ you and your little bitch need to just go back to the cut where you came from-“ you glanced at Rafe, only to see him looking at Topper with anger as if he was upset at him for calling you that , but before you could further analyze his expression, JJ pushed against Topper’s chest, slinging Topper backwards.

“you watch your mouth” JJ spat out pointing his finger towards Topper’s face. John B quickly stepped in , pulling JJ back away from Topper who was now laughing like an idiot, excited for the action that he thought was about to happen.

“Yeah go ahead Johnny boy go ahead and play dad “ Topper spat out as John B continued practically dragging JJ away from the group. “just don’t go abandoning him like your dad did ” He yelled out. Your mouth flew open in shock, seeing John B stop in his tracks but before he could even respond, your hand slapped straight across Topper’s cheek, causing his head to bounce side ways.

“go suck on your moms tits some more you fucking prick” You scowled before turning on your heals, following your friends. You didn’t even bother to stick around for anymore commentary, your only goal at this point was getting your friends the hell away from here before all hell broke loose.

“never fails man” you heard JJ screamed out in anger as you made it to the parking lot all while Pope continued trying to hush them as they stood next to the twinkie.

“JJ chill!” Pope yelled out as he tried pushing JJ into the Volkswagen but to no avail.

“no man they always get to do and say whatever the hell they want and never get any repercussions for it !” he exclaimed.

He wasn’t wrong, they really did. And if the Pogues fought back they were deemed bad and out of control. You sighed heavily as you watched JJ try to calm himself down, only to realize you had left your phone on the Log you were originally sitting at by the fire.

“Fuck I’ll be right back” You stated, only for your arm to get grabbed by John B.

“No don’t go back there” He instructed but you shook your head.

“I’ll be fine I just left my phone. “ You exclaimed before making your way back down towards the crowd of people.

“Xcuse’ me “ you mumbled as you brushed past people, making your way to the fire.

“Y/n what happened?” Kiara asked popping up from the side, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later , meet you at the twinkie ok? go calm JJ down” You responded, pointing behind you with your thumb towards the van. She rolled her eyes, realizing it was a fight that had happened before turning around, making her way to your friends.

“Just can’t stay away can you?” You heard from behind you. You turn around to see none other than Rafe himself standing proudly. You rolled your eyes before turning back around, walking towards the fire once again. Despite you usually being excited to see him, tonight really put things into perspective for you.

You really were just a ‘dirty pogue’ to these guys, nothing more. There was no point to continue entertaining the thought of anything ever happening between the two of you. You were enemies, and that was all you’d ever be.

“I just came to get something Rafe go away” You huffed out.

“Oh you mean this?” He yelled out , making you stop in your track. You turned around to see Rafe holding your phone up, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“Give me that” you demanded, reaching your hand out, but Rafe pulled back, pulling it out of your reach.

“Rafe!” You yelled out with anger. “Give me my fucking phone dude” You spat out , reaching out again.

“Well what’s in it for me?” he asked , that smirk still obvious on his face.

“Rafe , please” You sighed out, dropping your shoulders slowly giving up. Between the alcohol and it being so late, you didn’t have any energy in you at this point to argue and you were just ready to go home and crash. Rafe noticed the body change in you, his grin falling from his face.

“I’m sorry” he said softly as he held out your phone to you. You were shocked. Rafe apologizing? Nobody but his father had ever heard those words coming from him so for him to say this to you really took you by surprise.

You slowly took the phone from him, your brows furrowed together in confusion.

“uhm,” you said as you pulled your arm back towards yourself. “thanks” you mumbled before turning on your heels making your way back to your friends.

“Y/n stop arguing and just do it!” Your mom yelled at you as she pushed the cleaing cart your way. You had to work with your mom today at the country club unfortunately and you were not even the slightest bit happy about it. She needed help and ‘You teenagers don’t do anything for yourselves’ as she would say, so you were stuck cleaning the floors while she did whatever it is that she does.

“Okay!” you huffed out as you picked up the broom off of the cart, aggressively beginning to sweep against the floor. You rolled your eyes as she mumbled something else to you before walking away, leaving you to clean the room alone.

It wasn’t long after that you heard some familiar voices walking down the hall way towards the room you were in. It most definitely sounded like the horrible three, Topper, Kelce and Rafe. You quickly turned your back towards the door, hoping none of them would notice you since you were alone and you against 3 just didn’t sound like a good time. You continued sweeping as you heard the group laughing as they passed the room you were in, not even paying you no mind. You sighed with relief as you realized they hadn’t noticed you and continued back to sweeping the floors.

“Hey” you heard from behind you. You jumped up gasping loudly as you turned around quickly, only to see Rafe himself standing there .

“God – fuck Rafe you scared the shit out of me. “ You breathed out, your hand over your chest as you tried to calm your heart beat down.

“sorry” he responded. There was that word again that didn’t exist in Rafe’s dictionary. You caught yourself staring before you quickly snapped yourself out of your trance, placing your hand on your hip.

“What do you want Rafe?” You scoffed out. He smirked before walking over to one of the Desks that sat in the room. You watched as he sat down on the edge, grinning as he stared over at you.

“ Never seen you here before.” He stated. You rolled your eyes before you propped your elbow up on your broom, sighing heavily.

“my mom works here. I’m just helping” You exclaimed, not that it was any of his business anyway.

“Huh” He responded nodding his head. He kept quiet once again, leaving the room silent and you beyond confused. You eventually shook your head at him, indicating for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“Look Rafe “ you started, standing yourself up straight. “I have to get back to work so unless you’re here for something important, you can go the fuck on” you finished. Rafe hopped off the edge of the desk, taking a few steps towards you , his body now hovering over yours. You began to feel your heart pound again, this time from the nerves as he stood so close to you. The smell of his cologne, grass and sweat from his Golfing lingering in your nose. you felt your hands begin getting clammy as you tried to hold your composer, your breath hitched in the back of your throat.

Rafe slowly lifted his hands, placing it under your chin, his blue eyes focused on yours. You didn’t know what to do at this point. You’ve had one on one Arguments with rafe before but none where he stood this close, and this quiet with you.

“Rafe” You breathed out as he lifted your chin, your face close together. He grinned once again, leaning in closer to you.

“You’re so beautiful” He said softly. You stared back into his blue eyes for a second before leaning in slightly. You were taken back though as he let go of your face , taking a step back and putting his hands in his pockets.

“ see ya” He responded calmy before walking back out of the room, following back to his friends.

You stood in shock, confused by Rafes actions. You were for sure positive that he was going to kiss you but he didn’t.

“what the fuck?” you mumbled before shaking your head in confusion at Rafe’s actions. You sighed heavily before sweeping your broom across the floor again, trying to regain your compose.

Most of your day went on like normal. You finished work with your mom, your mind only focused on your brief conversation you had with Rafe earlier.

It sucked because you had feelings towards Rafe, and you couldn’t tell if you were overthinking his actions or if he actually was in to you as well.

You had come to a conclusion though- it was one of two options. He was either fucking with you, or he wanted to fuck you. And you were determined to find out by tonight.

“Here goes nothing” You sighed to yourself as you stood outside TannyHill, the outside lights lighting up the big white house. You quickly jumped over the concrete fence, your feet landing in the wet grass.

Your eyes roamed the balcony, trying to remember which area you had seen Rafe standing at before. You bit your bottom lip as you concentrated, only to see Rafe himself walk by one of the windows.

“gotcha” You spoke softly before crouching down some, doing a quick jog across the field in hopes no one would see you.

You quickly managed to climb your way up the house onto the balcony you had just recently seen Rafe at. This was one of the pro’s of being a Pogue. You guys were very athletic and could always find your way to anything no matter the obstacles. You stood catching your breath as your feet finally landed on the wooden floor, the area barely lit by the light from the windows.

“What the fuck am I doing?” You said to yourself as you stood in the dark outside of what looked to be Rafe’s bedroom. You ran your hands through your hair, turning back around to face the field.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you said to yourself again as you began pacing. This is Rafe we’re talking about. Of course this man is just fucking with you. He’s been nothing but a dick to you and your friends for years. why in God’s name would he want you now? You knew you weren’t’ ugly. You were in shape, had decent hair (Even though you probably smelt like sweat sometimes because of how much you spent outside with the gang) But for the most part you cleaned up well.

Plenty of guys wanted you- but you looked nothing like any of the rich girls Rafe hooked up with. Why would he ever want you? It was clear that he was only acting this way towards you so him and his friends could have a good laugh later.

You shook your head in disbelief that you even had the balls to climb this guys house and actually think you could even ask him if he was interested in you. You began to climb back over before you heard a door open. You froze instantly, hoping they wouldn’t see you in the dark but that was just wishful thinking.

“Y/n?” You heard someone say. You mumbled a ‘ fuck’ as you recognized the voice to be Rafe.

“Uhm” You replied awkwardly as you climbed down, turning towards him to face him.

“Care to explain?” He asked throwing his hand up in your direction.

“Uhh” You said awkwardly as you ran your hand through your hair before placing them down your side.

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing climbing up my house at fucking 11 at night” he spat out. You flinched slightly at the harsh tone of his voice, your eyes roaming everywhere but his face , afraid to look at him in humiliation.

“okay so” you started, looking down at your feet. You stood for a second, wondering how you were going to explain yourself without sounding like ta total creep.

“Alight fuck it. “ you breathed out, looking up at Rafe. “You’ve been acting weird towards me, and being all like nice and flirty one minute and a complete ass the next and like – I just need clarification “ You exclaimed before you took in a deep breath, staring at Rafe as you waited for a response. You bit your bottom lip as he continued staring at you with a blank expression.

“Well?” You repeated, but he stayed quiet. You rolled your eyes, annoyed with the mind games he continued to play. “Rafe what is it? You like me or are you like fucking with me?” You spat out in frustration.

He finally changed his expression, this time a cocky smirk forming on his face. He reached out, grabbing one of your hands before walking backwards, leading you to follow him into his bedroom.

“uhh Rafe?” You questioned, confusion written all over your face as his eyes continued staring into yours.

“I’m not explaining myself” He finally spoke, his hair draped over his eyes as he looked down at you. You scrunched your face up as he reached behind you, closing the patio door. He chuckled slightly at your confusion before taking a step back away from you. “I’m just gonna show you” He exclaimed before pulling against your arm, leading you towards the bed before pushing against your shoulder, making you flop down. Your eyes widened as he walked over towards you, a smirk never leaving his face as his hand reached up, pushing away the stray hair in your face.

��You know, I’ve wanted to fuck you for quite sometime” He stated, leaning forward. “I mean look at you,-“ his eyes looked down and then back up your body, landing back onto your eyes, “You’re hot as fuck” He responded. You didn’t have a clue on what to say, so you continued in the same spot , sitting on his bed propped up on your hands behind you.

“You know for a pogue,” He finished, chucking as you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“Why didn’t you say anything ?” You finally spoke, looking up at him through your lashes. His cocky smirk left his face, only to return shortly after.

“Had to make sure the feelings mutual.” He replied , standing back up straight.

“and Who said it was?” You asked , trying to build your confidence back up. Rafe’s smirk widened before he let out a chuckle, his finger pointed out towards the balcony you were just climbing a few minutes ago.

“You did” he replied . you lowered your head some without responding, knowing he wasn’t wrong. HE stared down at you for a few seconds before he leaned in, the tip of his nose touching yours.

“Rafe” You breathed out as he stayed teasingly close.

“Hm” he hummed, not moving his face.

“Just fucking kiss me already” You demanded. Rafe happily obliged, his lips colliding with yours. Your hands immediately made their way to the back of his head, tugging on his hair.

“You wanna lay down for me ?” He asked after a few minutes of your tongues fighting for dominance. You didn’t respond other than nodding before you slowly laid yourself down, your eyes not leaving Rafe’s. Rafe grinned before unbuttoning your shorts, tugging on them. You lifted your hips up from the bed, helping him slide your shorts down as your teeth clamped down around your bottom lip. He stared at your hot pink panties, seeing the darkened area as you were already soaked.

“Soaking wet and I haven’t even touched you” He indicated. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as attempted to lower your head in embarrassment even though he could see you. Your mouth flew open as Rafe leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your damp panties, applying friction against your clit. You moaned out, leaning your head back as he placed the palm of his hand against you, rubbing up and down at a slow pace.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, his voice low and deep. You bit your bottom lip before nodding your head. Rafe grinned before he tugged on your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.

“Spread your legs open baby” He demanded , his voice calming but deep and intimidating.

You grinned before slowly spreading them open, his eyes focused on your heated core the whole time.

You laid your back flat against his bed as he got down on his knees, pulling you by your hips down to the edge of the bed, your bottom hanging off directly across his face .

“Rafe” You moaned out as you felt his warm tongue glide along your slit, his tongue stopping against your clit before he enclosed his lips, sucking slightly. He wiggled his tongue back and forth as his inserted his two index fingers into you, curving upwards. You gripped your hands against his navy blue sheets, gasping loudly as his fingers hit against your g-spot, sending tingling feelings through your body.

Rafe took one of his hands and trailed it up your stomach under your crop top, his hand groping around breasts.

You continued moaning loudly as his finger tips swirled around your nipples while his other hand continued moving rapidly against you, his eyes looking up at you in admiration.

Rafe lifted himself up, his face close to yours as his fingers continued moving inside you.

Y/n” he called out softly causing you to open your eyed and look over at him.

He placed his lips against yours as he slowly grinded himself against your side, pushing his rock hard shaft against you.

“You wanna do this?” He breathed out as he looked down at you, the pace of his fingers slowing down. You nodded looking up at him, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest.

“Yes Rafe” you practically whined out. Rafe moved himself to where he was hovering over you, his lips placed against your neck as he pulled his joggers down some, his member popping against his abs. You breathed out deeply as you watched him line himself up before slowly sliding himself in.

“ fuck” He groaned out as he felt your walls wrap tightly against him. Rafe was not only long, but he was thick all the way around, filling you more than anyone had ever done before. You placed your arms around his neck, holding him close as he began moving his hips against you.

The room was silent, only the sounds of your deep breathing and small groaning from Rafe as he continued rocking his hips in you at a steady pace, one hand placed above your head as the other gripped tightly under your thigh to hold your leg up.

“Rafe go harder” You pleaded. Rafe instead stopped his movements completely before rolling you over onto your stomach. He pulled slightly against your hips causing your bottom to stick up in the air as your face was pressed into the bed.

You gasped loudly as Rafe inserted himself into you again from behind, the new position giving him access to going deeper in you, which was exactly what he did. You felt his hand land on the back of your head, pressing you deeper into the bed as he began grinding his hips deep into you. He began slow at first but then began giving you exactly what you wanted , slamming himself into you over and over again.

At this point the pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn’t hold the moaning in as he continued rocking his hips into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing the room.

“Fuck im gonna cum” Rafe groaned out deeply in your ear, the feeling of your tight warm walls around him bringing him close to his own climax. He began placing sloppy kisses on your back, his pace speeding up. You arched your back feeling yourself clench around him as you orgasmed, your clit pulsing. You whined out, tugging on his sheets as Rafe continued to pound into you, riding out your high.

“Fuck y/n “ Rafe groaned out as he quickly pulled out, pumping himself off shooting his load on your back.

You both stayed in the same position for a few more minutes as you tried catching your breath before Rafe grabbed a napkin from his nightstand, wiping your back off.

You rolled over, laying on your back as Rafe put his bottoms back On before looking back over at you out of breath. You grinned as your eyes roamed his glistening body, his abs very prominent and his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat.

“ You should’ve definitely came to me sooner” you finally spoke out with a giggle. He sat down on the edge if the bed chuckling slightly.

“Yeah, that was nice. “ He responded. The room became silent, you both just sitting awkwardly while you laid on his bed still naked. After a moment of silence, you finally sat up, pulling his top sheet with you while getting up off the bed.

“Soo” You said awkwardly as you wrapped the sheet over your sweaty body.

“you can use the front door ” He responded looking up at you. You almost wanted to slap him at this point, realizing he was indicating for you to leave. You scoffed while rolling your eyes before turning away, picking your clothing up off the floor.

“What?” He asked as he continued sitting on the edge of the bed, noticing you aggressively picking your clothes up in anger.

“Nothing Rafe” you mumbled as you pulled your shorts back up up your legs, turning your back towards him.

“Hey” He responded standing up, grabbing your hand after you pulled your top over your head.

“What” You replied back, looking up at him with anger.

“I wasn’t saying you had to leave now I was just saying you didn’t have to climb down the house again” He exclaimed. You stood for a second before shaking your head.

“I should go anyways, it’s late” You replied before walking over towards your shoes, sliding them on over you feet. “but don’t worry I’ll take the balcony so no one sees me”. Rafe wanted to reply to your comment but instead he stayed quiet as he watched you make your way back to his balcony before stopping, leaving your hand on the doorknob.

“Uhm” You spoke , causing him to look up at you. “I’ll see you later?” You stated, more like questioned just for your own clarification. He grinned before nodding his head, walking towards you. He walked you out to the balcony, helping you over the edge before watching you climb down to the ground to make sure you made it down safely.

You did a light jog back towards the concrete wall before turning around, looking up at the balcony. You grinned when you saw him still standing there watching you. You gave him a wave before turning on your feet, climbing back over the fence and going home.

***

Sorry I’ve been incognito for a while but ya girl is back 🥲

Also,

✨As always feedback, like, and a reblog is always appreciated ! ✨

Masterlist

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vii.

summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 3.4k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.

Truth be told, you didn’t remember.

“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.

“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.

Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.

You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.

“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.

Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.

Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.

He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.

Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.

You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.

Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.

You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.

There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.

You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.

Neither could Natasha.

You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.

You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.

You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.

You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.

You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.

The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.

He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.

You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.

Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.

You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.

Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.

In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.

You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.

But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.

Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.

You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.

You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.

You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.

You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.

A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.

You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.

But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.

You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.

You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.

“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.

His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand down to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.

[adampage]

re: your tags, yeah!!!!!!!!!!!! YEA!! and like, punk is NOT being smooth about all this either. he had to escalate things SO far to push hangman to the point of snapping (being condescending wasn't enough, his handshake intimidation thing wasn't enough, the one handed shove wasn't enough, he had to two hand hard shove hangman before he got punched back!).

i wrote that whole thing in a vacuum just cuz i was excited about my interpretation of the situation being validated but then later saw randos online being genuinely confused at why hangman was so angry with punk right off the bat as if punk hasn't been needling him for weeks, as if last week we didnt see punk specifically pointing out to hangman that the crowd is cheering "cm punk" louder than page's name with the commentators even going so far as to say "golly is punk getting under page's skin or what", as if the week before that he didn't use hangman's finisher on silver and was literally saying "u mad?" about it like what! what the!! are these people watching the same show as i am?? can any of this even be considered subtext at this point, i feel like its so overt its pretty much just Text. sorry for ranting LOL

*babbles excitedly* YSHSJSKFHS YEAH LISTEN

at the beginning, when hangman told punk he was gonna destroy while punk was off fuckin around on a tv/movie set idk, I was confused. VERY confused. because it seemed like, ok this is coming out of nowhere. at that point, I would’ve said, “holy shit? Hangman’s turning heel.”

But THEN—a week later, Punk uses the same language as Triple H used against him way back when in 2011, ELEVEN YEARS AGO. Granted, in the parallel, Trips is saying Punk MADE it personal, that it’s NO LONGER just “business”, but the fact remains that Hunter at first had believed it was business as well, and Punk prodding and poking and all around running his fucking mouth (for good reason at the time) made it personal because he was going after Hunter specifically. So, in my opinion, that’s a heel fuckin move. Why are you as a man using the same language as the language of the man you considered the villain in YOUR story?

Next, Punk uses Hangman’s finisher. WHY??? If this is just BUSINESS, then WHY???? Why are you pushing at another man’s buttons???? If not to FLIRT, then WHAT are you DOING? That’s not flattery, motherfucker, that’s offensive and you know it!!! You’ve watched wrestling as long as I have and MORE, you ass!!!! You know that isn’t flattery!!!! That’s a fucking insult!!!! (Especially when you don’t even connect with Silver’s head it was such a bad buckshot lariat I’m so upset about it 😭😭😭)

I won’t even talk about the week after because I’m just gonna go insane. Hangman made me lose my mind. I love him.

(Right at this point, I had written three paragraphs worth of brainrot and when I saved it to post, my fuckin app glitched out and didn’t save so I’m gonna try to type it all out again at my lunchtime but just know that I’m in a rage)

Okay yes I WILL talk about the Takeshita match because. Fuckign philip. Throwin shade like literally throwing shade and JR just. Edging him along like.??? Okay?!?! And nobody calling this out at all on commentary like what the fuck. And!! The whole “I’m in his head!I’ve got him right where I want him!” like ok motherfucker manipulative much????? If you planned on doing this the business way AND the babyface way then WHY are you using heel kevin owens tactics?

There was this ask that I got, where I rambled about how, Hangman is the only man past/present so far in the company (at least on PPV) that hasn’t kissed the ground that punk walks on. That he doesn’t care for him at all, in any way, just does not give a fuck about this dude. And that, in some way, that’s hangman getting in punk’s head because every other guy he’s fought at a ppv made the mistake of telling punk that they idolized him, at one point or another. And that became their downfall. Meanwhile, with hangman, punk doesn’t have anything on him except to push and prod at hangman’s hothead fuckin personality. But it takes more to work on him, because he doesn’t have hangman’s number. The men that have hangman’s number, hangman’s gods, are dead and buried, as I said in another post sjskfjdj.

And I just!!!!! Hangman is something else man. He catches onto snakes bc he’s lived with them so long. He knows what he’s done, he knows what his friends have done to get to the top, and he knows punk is snake in the grass brat 3000, original model. The only thing that fucks punk up is a man that doesn’t kiss his feet. Hangman IS in punk’s head, which is why punk had to shove him multiple times to get a rise out of him. That’s also why hangman didn’t do the pipebomb, why he thought better of it because he knows that plays into punk’s ego and a puffed up punk can do anything. Like you said, that’s why punk points at the crowd chanting cm punk, that’s why he throws it in hangman’s face bc punk is all about the ego.

Anyway I have lots of fuckin thoughts about this shit but I’m glad we here on tumblr dot hellsite know what the fuck is going on

[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[drabbles-mc]

Could you do a HC on how the Mayans men would react to a girl getting hit on at a bar and the guy not taking no for an answer, like they don't know her or anything. I feel like they all respect women enough to at least do something about it; ya know?

All of the Mayans men wake up every day and drink a full pitcher of Respect Women Juice. They will not tolerate disrespect in their house. HC’s under the cut!

(I couldn’t decide if i wanted to do third person or reader insert for these but I settled on reader insert. Hopefully it works alright)

Bishop:

-Senses the tension immediately 

-My man sits back and watches the entire clubhouse all night. He knows everything that’s going on. And when he notices that some guy is refusing to leave you alone, he instantly gets up and goes to intervene.

-He’s not hot-headed about it. He doesn’t have the time or the energy for that anymore. But he places himself between the two of you, looking back and forth, “Everything alright here?”

-The guy would try to brush it off and reassure him that yea, of course everything is okay you can leave now. But Bishop wouldn’t have any of that. He’d cut him off mid-sentence, “I wasn’t fucking asking you.”

-He’d turn to you and ask again if you’re alright. You’d give a slight shake of her head no, not wanting to stir up drama but also not wanting to deal with this dude anymore. And that’s all it would take.

-”I think you should leave,” he wouldn’t yell. Just state it as a fact. But when the guy would try to argue that’s when he would get a little more heated. He’d step in closer to the dude’s face, but not putting hands on him, “I said you should fucking leave.”

-Bishop only uses yelling and brute force as a last resort. Very rarely does it ever come to that. He would follow the guy all the way to the clubhouse door, making sure that he actually leaves before going back to check on the poor girl that he was harassing. He 100% lingers close for the rest of the night to make sure no one bothers you.

Angel:

-King of being the Fake Boyfriend.

-My tall boy might be emotionally illiterate sometimes but he can read a social situation. When he sees a girl scrambling to try and come up with excuses to make a guy leave her alone, he has no problem inserting himself into the situation. 

-Smooth as fuck walking up to you, greeting you while resting a protective hand on your shoulder. Instantly setting the tone to whoever is talking to you that this was a useless endeavor.

- "Hey, querida,” he’d wait for you to look at him, “Sorry, didn’t see you walk in. You get a drink already? Want me to get you something?”

-The look in his eyes would let you know that he’s offering you an out to the uncomfortable situation that you’re in. He’s not trying to flirt--he’s just trying to drive away whatever asshole wasn’t catching the hint that you didn’t want to talk.

- "Who the fuck are you?” this is a problem that the guy did not see coming.

-Angel would look at him, eyes narrow, “I’m her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”

- The question is rhetorical. It doesn’t matter who the guy is. Angel doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He steps closer to the guy, towering over him. He looks down at him and is practically begging the guy to say something stupid so he has an excuse to physically throw him out the front door.

- He doesn’t get the chance, though. The guy reads the cue, knows that it’s a fight that he will not win, and walks away.

- Angel would turn back to you, “You good? Sorry about that. Didn’t seem like he was getting the hint.”

- You’d shake your head, “He wasn’t. Thank you, I appreciate the assist.”

- “No problem,” he’d pause, “But forreal did you get a drink already? First round on me.”

Ezekiel:

- Y’all remember the casino scenes with the cops? That’s how he handles shit.

- Master of keeping his cool in frustrating situations. Completely follows your lead. He sees a lot of weird interactions being on the serving side of the bar, always clocking what’s happening in front of him in case he has to step in.

-He’d notice you rolling your eyes and giving short answers. He’d also notice that the guy either isn’t picking up the cues, or is willfully ignoring them. EZ catches your eyes a few times, silently asking if you want him to step in. You shake your head--the guy is annoying but harmless for the time being.

- Then he tries to touch you. Casually reaching for your shoulder, trying to rest his hand on your knee. You recoil, trying to create more space between the two of you. He doesn't care though.

- That’s when EZ can’t keep it to himself anymore. He’d sigh, not looking up from the glasses that he’s cleaning, “I don’t think she’s into you, man.”

- You and the man would both turn to look at him, each of you with a surprised expression on your faces. You’d stay quiet, wanting to see how the situation was going to play out. The man next to you would scoff, “I don’t remember you being part of this fucking conversation.”

- “I might as well be if I have to sit here and watch it. You’re the only one out of the three of us not suffering from how uncomfortable this is.”

- His commentary would ruffle some feathers. The man next to you would get defensive, “No one asked for your fucking opin--”

- Knowing that EZ had your back would give you a little extra confidence, “You should listen to him,” you nod, “He’s right. We’re suffering.”

- He’d be caught off-guard by the two of you teaming up on him. Realizing it wouldn't be worth the fight, he’d huff and walk away. EZ would watch him and chuckle, calling after him, “Least you could do is pay your fucking tab!”

- You’d laugh, glad to be done with the uncomfortable situation, “His drink and whatever you want are all on me tonight. As a thank you.”

- He’d give you that little smirk, “Don’t mention it.”

Coco:

- Zero tolerance policy.

- Not coy or polite about it at all.

-Instantly uses himself as a barrier between you and whatever guy it is that’s not leaving you alone. He might not be the biggest guy in the MC, but he sure as hell carries himself like he is when the situation calls for it.

-Will not hesitate to get nose-to-nose with whoever is bothering you. If someone wants to invade your space, he’ll invade theirs. Fair is fair.

- “You really can’t take a fuckin’ hint, huh?” he’d shake his head.

- “What’s your problem?” the man’s voice would sound confident but the look in his eyes would show that he really didn't want a problem with whoever this guy was getting in his face.

- “You. Fuckin’ beat it,” he’d jerk his head towards the door, “Don’t come back, either.”

- Coco carries himself with the confidence of a man that will make someone pay dearly for coming back uninvited. Confrontational situations usually resolve themselves quickly. People tend to not want to mess with him if they can avoid it.

-When the guy inevitably leaves not just you, but the clubhouse altogether, Coco finally turns back to you, “You good, ma?”

- You nod, watching him light up a cigarette, “Uh, yea. I’m good. Thanks for that.”

- He nods, blowing out a puff of smoke, “We’ll make sure that fucker never comes back.”

Hank:

- The only thing that Hank Loza drinks is Respect Women Juice. When he runs across someone that doesn’t, it gets out of hand really quickly.

-Bull in a china shop.

- The same man who is usually calm and cool and collected, physically removes whoever it is that is causing a problem. The guys have tried to teach him deescalation skills but it never sticks. It’s the only thing that Hank gets heated about so they all let it go at this point.

- Hank isn’t a small dude. When he steps toe-to-toe with someone he almost always out-sizes them. They get about 5 seconds to hear what he says and leave on their own before he removes them on his own.

- “You should leave her alone,” the friendly suggestion is really anything but.

- The guys are almost always cocky, not thinking that anything is actually going to happen to them, “Or what, tough guy?”

- They ignored their first and only warning. What happens next is all on them. Hank grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the ground. His voice is quiet, which is way more terrifying than yelling, “Let’s find out.”

- Hank lifts and carries the guy out, on the brink of dragging him like a caveman. The guy is yelling in protest, trying to swing, but Hank is unfazed.

- He throws the guy down the steps of the clubhouse, giving a final warning not to come back. No longer in an agumentative mood, the man takes off in a desperate attempt to avoid getting further tossed around.

- When he goes back into the clubhouse, the rest of the guys have moved on from the situaiton--to them it was business as usual for Hank. You, on the other hand, didn't see the situation unfolding that way at all. He walked back up to you, the anger gone from his face, a gentle smile there instead.

- “Are you alright?” he looks you over as if to make sure you didn't get hurt in the midst of it all.

- “Yea,” you nod, “I’m...I’m fine. Thanks. You...you didn’t have to do all that.”

- He’d chuckle, knowing that for him it was the only course of action, “Of course I did,” he’d gently rest his hand on the outside of your arm, “Let me know if anyone else gives you any trouble.”

Creeper:

- The smaller version of Hank, tbh. Constantly out here Respecting Women.

- Remember that scene where he catches a shotgun that’s tossed to him and immediately starts shooting on the highway?? That’s the energy he has when dealing with men who disrespect women.

- Cannot easily lift and remove men the same way Hank does, but he will throw hands without hesitation.

- The guys told him no more threatening with guns in the clubhouse. So fists will have to suffice.

- Does not offer a warning to the guy. If someone is being pushy or rude, they don’t deserve a heads-up. He will try to get your attention in some way first, to make sure that you want him to intervene. If he thinks that it’s going to get out of hand, or if you let him know with a pleading look that you could use the assist, he is instantly throwing himself into the middle of it.

- He’d catch your eye, motioning back and forth between you and the man in front of you to ask if you need an out. You’d give him a slight nod and that’s all it would take.

- Walking up, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and turns him around, “Hey, motherfucker,” he’d shove him towards the door of the clubhouse, “Leave.”

- Caught off-guard, the man would shove him back. Fully-bruised ego shining through, “Keep your hands off me.”

- That’s when you’d hear the first crack of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw. Your eyes would go wide, not ever having seen Creeper get like this. His focus would be completely on the man stumbling towards the ground in front of him, “I said get the fuck out.”

- It usually doesn’t take more than one punch to get his point across. HIs muscles aren’t just for show--getting clocked by him fucking hurts. They’re lucky that he’s not big on wearing rings.

- Once the threat is neutralized, he instantly shifts back into his quiet, gentler self to check in with you. He sees the surprise in your face at how things unfolded and he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m done, promise.”

- It’d get you to laugh. You can see it in his expression that it’s almost like a switch he can flip on and off. “Um. Thank you. That...isn’t what I was expecting. But thank you.”

- “Are you alright?” he’d sit down next to you, mindful to give you some space.

- “Yea, I’m good. How’s your hand?”

- He’d chuckle, “All good. Nothing new.”

Okay this was a lot of fun. I love all these dorks. Hope you enjoyed! xo

[moxfirefly]

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

[hk-plus-you]

serious zote relationship headcanons, hand 'em over!!

Why is this the ask that reaches through my executive dysfunction to pull me from the grave? and I wrote so much what the fuck Zote

If you know anything about Zote then you probably don't need me to tell you this but... It's gonna be a pretty thankless relationship. It's just not how he works. He isn't shy on singing your praises though, it's just always packaged in a way that revolves around him again (E.g. You make him dinner and he'll talk about how "of course you made such a splendid meal for your great and mighty mate")

In general though, getting in an actual relationship is gonna be one hell of a slow burn. Not because he isn't receptive to any advances, but he just isn't one to usually do the relationships. Just read precept eight, "You can rely on nobody, and nobody will always be loyal. Therefore, nobody should be your constant companion," and tell me he doesn't have a heaping helping of trust issues you're gonna have to wade through to actually get him interested in you.

If you're not an adventurer he's not going to stop his life of exploring and heroics for you. He'll just do something he never does, he returns somewhere specifically to visit someone. He'll make it well know because it's such an honor to receive a visitation from a knight of such renown!

And don't go about make proud declarations of love and promises, don't expect him to settle down and get married and have a house on a hill with kids. Promises and commitment scare him the fuck out of him because all he can think of is what it would look like if your broke every one of those promises.

So any relationship is gonna be a lot of unsaid things. A lot of implied care and words. And that can be really frustrating if it's like that for literal years on end

But he does care even if he refuses to say or acknowledge it for so long. It's actually shown in gifts and little acts of service. You complain about creature running around bothering your and he'll attempt to deal with it. You need some herb or berry? Guess who so graciously bought/scavenged it for you?

And he does want some thanks for it, but you don't need to sing his praises to the ceiling every time. He does that plenty himself, just a small "Thank you!" will do just fine and he'll go on and tell some (horrendously exaggerated) story about the great feats he went to help you.

Really the best thing you can do to catch his attention is just listen to him. Genuinely listen, don't scoff, don't go around worshiping the ground he walks on. Just listen, provide commentary here an there to show you are paying attention. No one does that for him, and while he may not realize it the moment, it's nice to have someone actually talk to him with mocking or trying to pull him down. When he's off doing god knows what and getting himself in all heaps of trouble, he'll find himself thinking about how much you may enjoy listening to this new story.

And sure, maybe he won't say it, or even attempt to put his feeling into any kind of words for a long time, he can't quite deny that you are one of the few genuinely good things he has right now and... Doesn't a knight of great renown deserve that? To spend time with someone who actually seems to care about him? Maybe it'll change, maybe you'll do something horrible later and he'll never want to see you again but... For now, maybe he'll stick around and indulge himself a bit longer.

[whump-town]

A Favor

Feeling very Hotch and Hank these days (feel free to send me asks about them because I fucking love them and I will write more about them if given the chance)

No warnings

No Pairings

It begins about mid-April in the height of the whole “April showers bring May flowers” thing. Hotch is sitting on the porch when Derek pulls into his driveway. The day is chilly, the perfect sort where the weather never gets the chance to get humid because the rain doesn’t stop falling and the sun stays tucked behind thick, billowing clouds. Windshield wipers darting quickly, never fast enough to fight the rapid downpour. Sitting out in a rocking chair, sweater pulled over his white-shirt to fight the chill, Hotch cocks his head to the side as Derek throws his door open, jogging - head down- to the porch. The car is still on.

“I need a favor,” he shouts as he nears the porch. He runs on up, ignoring Hotch’s raised eyebrow of confusion. Derek follows his eyes to the car and lets out a breathless sigh. “Listen, man, Hank’s got the croup or something. The nursery won’t take him when he’s got a fever and the plumbing just blew sky high at that house I’m renovating on Sixth Street. Savannah -”

Hotch stands, all Derek needed to say was that he needed Hotch to watch Hank for a little bit. The rest is rather unnecessary. How many times did Derek spend an hour or the day watching Jack so Hotch could do his job? Hanging around a park or the office instead of out doing what he wanted. Even if he hadn’t watched Jack, Hotch loves Hank. He cares about Derek and he also likes Savannah. Besides, his day isn’t exactly looking too busy at the moment. “He’s in the car?” Hotch asks, reaching down and grabs the raincoat he’d laid over the chair beside him.

Derek nods. He winces, “he’s moody but I think he’s excited to see you.”

Hotch hums. As they near the car, Hotch’s jacket is thrown over his arm as he walks into the rain, he smirks as they get closer and Hank’s crying gets louder. He looks at Derek, a twinkle in his eye, and betrays his amusement. Hank doesn’t exactly sound excited to be here.

Derek opens the door, immediately placing a hand on Hank’s heaving chest, shushing him gently. “Hank,” he calls, rubbing Hank’s chest with his thumb. “Baby look who it is.” Hank whines, kicking out and still making softer crying sounds as he rubs his eyes and finds Hotch. “See?” Derek offers, stepping to the side to let Hotch step closer. “I promised I’d take you to see Hops.” Hank still cries, softer now but big pitiful tears that make both men’s heartache. It makes Derek feel awful that he has to leave him.

Derek steps back, sighing as he moves to the other side of the car for the diaper bag. “Everything should be in here,” Derek shouts, as he leans around and drags the heavy bag out. He hadn’t looked in it, he realizes, before leaving but he’s certain diapers are good but he’s not so sure about a spare change of clothes. If it’s that big of a deal, Hotch will just drive him to Derek’s. Besides, Savannah should be off by five and Derek should be done by lunchtime. They’ll be fine. Hotch has done the baby thing before.

Hotch unbuckles the straps holding Hank in, frowning when Hank immediately starts fighting to get the rest of the way out. His fingers have lost the dexterity he had in his youth - too many years of abusing them for all they were worth in fights, countless hours of paperwork, and... Foyet. Wiggling baby and tiny little mechanics do not help. He’s managing slowly when Derek comes back around, his grey t-shirt now soaked, and he steps back to let Derek in.

“Alright, alright -” Derek gets him out in a second. Working through the straps and buttons with no issue. “Look,” Derek turns and gives Hank to Hotch. Smiling when Hotch wraps his raincoat around the baby, rocking his body to try and soothe Hank back down. The baby takes to Hotch, wrapping his arms around his neck, and presses his wet face into Hotch’s shirt. Derek can faintly hear him hiccuping, still crying but softer now. Whining more than sobbing.

At that moment, Derek has no idea the impact of the domino that he has knocked over.

When Hank was born, before Hank was born, Reid went through this phase of reading every parenting book he perceived worth it. If they were really good, if Reid found them intellectually stimulating and correct statistically, he’d turn them over to Morgan. Annotated. They would be covered in sticky notes, full of notes and commentary. Lots of directions about orders to read the books in and how to skip around so ensure he got the best read according to Reid.

Having nothing to do with what Reid thought was best or even important, Derek found himself reading through the guides about grandparents. About the ways that people change. Adapting to being a parent and then how parents handle being grandparents.

His father would never meet Hank.

Chicago is so far away. Fran is here when she can be, she’s a fantastic grandmother. He’s called her for everything under the sun and even though Hank has had a thousand colds and upper-respiratory infections come and go, he still calls her for every single one. Just to make sure. Just for someone to tell him he’s doing all this right.

Savannah hasn’t talked to her parents in years. Things are too complicated.

Hank will have a grandmother. One.

It’s so unfair.

It eats Derek up. Grandparents had been so important to him as a child. His grandmother was one of the only people he felt safe with, always. She was just calm in the storm of pain in his life. Who could be that person for Hank? He never wants Hank to need someone but it’s better to have a net to fall on, something to brace against when the floor gives way than to come crashing through the floor. To be met with concrete where it doesn’t have to be.

Then Derek goes and spills all those dominos.

The first time that it happens he’s a mess. He dropped Hank off at daycare at seven, like he does every morning. So, reasonably, that’s where Hank should be at two when Derek goes to pick him up.

An hour later, shaking and on the verge of tears, Derek finds him in Hotch’s backyard. The two calmly swaying in the hammock, Hank drowsily listening to Hotch read “The Lorax”. Even intently listening, head tilted up so he can see Hotch, to the older man’s boring, if not entirely too complicated, commentary about capitalism and Karl Marx. The alienation of labor and lack of class consciousness, it’s no wonder the kid is falling asleep.

Putting Hotch on the emergency list had been more of a precaution for the possibility that Morgan is on a job and Savannah has work. He hadn’t really considered Hotch would need to go get Hank. Morgan hadn’t even wanted to list him, didn’t want to bother him like that.

By about the hundredth time, it’s no longer jarring to walk into the daycare and find his son is already gone. Even the workers know to warn him now.

Derek has a key to Hotch’s, he’s more than earned that right but especially these days. He lets himself into the front door and through the house, knows exactly where to find his son. The kid spends more days out of daycare than he spends in it.

“What are you two going to do when he goes to Kindergarten next year?”

They’re in the backyard, as they typically are. As annoying as he finds paying for a program that Hank doesn’t honestly attend most days, he can’t complain that much. Hank is reading exceptionally well, having two adults’ undivided attention for long periods of time helps. There are side effects. He can read books on his own but he does occasionally do old people things.

Like grunt when he sits down.

And asks to drink everything out of a mug.

Derek can see the face Emily makes, knows how this conversation goes by default of how it’s gone a hundred times before. “No,” Derek says, flatly. “You can not pull him out of Kindergarten.”

Hotch looks down at Hank, the toddler curled up into his side with a picture book. “He doesn’t have to go to Kindergarten.”

Derek had made himself sick thinking about Hank’s perceived lack of support. He hadn’t anticipated this. The giant hammock Hotch put up in his backyard. Met for fall days just like this, large enough for Emily and Hotch lay on two separate ends. Hank in the middle of them, feet kicked up on Emily’s thighs like a little king. The bookshelf in Hotch’s old office lowest shelf full of children’s books. The car seat in his old pick-up truck. The go-gurts, applesauce squeeze drinks, and gummies in his kitchen cabinets.

“There are proven benefits to homeschooling,” Emily offers, eyes peeking up above her own book.

Morgan rolls his eyes, “and there are too Kindergarten as well.”

Hotch says nothing but the blank look, the slight glare, speaks for itself.

“I don’t want my four-year-old to act like an old person,” Morgan defends. Is it not bad enough he grunts when he bends down to get things? That he’s told Savannah his back hurts and he needs a heating pad? He’s four. He doesn’t need any of those things. “No offense,” he adds, very delayed. The worst part is that he was going to have to bring Hank here this afternoon anyways. He’s expecting a new roofer at his property on the other side of town and Hank gets too antsy to watch. Besides, Hank would much rather be here.

“Look!” Hank sits up, twisting and turning around so that he can show Hotch his book. Derek moves forward, about to fuss and warn him to gentle but Hank knows what to do. He spends every day with two old people, neither as limber as they once were. Covered in scars and trauma that have stolen mobility. He knows how to be excited and bouncy with them. So he’s careful even as he looks like a monkey climbing up the side of Hotch’s legs and hip to half sit on his stomach and turn his book around. “See?”

Hotch nods, smiling encouragingly. Hank’s new thing is spiders. Bugs are very age-appropriate but Emily and Hotch struggle to maintain a blind amount of interest. Especially when Hank brings them bugs, he’s so excited too. It’s adorable but Hotch is going to lose his mind if he has to let Hank crawl into his lap with one more spider.

“I’ll be back by six,” Morgan says. He kisses the top of Hank’s head, nodding his head when Hank shows him the enlarged picture of the spider in his book. “If not--”

“He’s fine here, no reason to rush around.”

Morgan nods, "love you, buddy."

Hank ignores him, just falls over onto his side. Squirming around until he's tucked against Hotch's side, smirking up at his father.

"Behave."

But the truth is, Hank always acts on his best behavior for Hotch.

[konowhore]

aoba johsai headcanons | watching a volleyball game with them

warning(s): spoilers from season 2-3, not proofreaded 

a/n: these are,,, very long HAHA and i’m so sorry that these are like,,,,,, all ending with reader and bf sleeping LMAO...

prompt: you watch a volleyball game with your boyfriend. you didn’t realize that it was a game between the two teams his team lost to.

oikawa

PLEASE HE WAS SO BITTER IN SEASON 3 IT WAS SO FUNNY????

but anyways

he had dragged you to watch the shiratorizawa v. karasuno game bc ‘you’re my gf i need emotional support<3′

you didn’t really know much about volleyball, maybe the basics like positions, but you were still excited to watch

his ass would choose the seat farthest away from the court simply bc he didn’t want to be seen and he would make the snarkiest remarks while watching about how they played and you would just be like: .. yea..... 

he’d realize that you’re a little confused abt what’s going on and then go:

“need me to explain anything princess?”

you lean into him and nod a bit, turning your head to smile up at him

his glasses reflect some light but he shifts them so he can look you in the eyes

cue you blushing bc the looks he gives you ?? <333 it makes ur heart cartwheel

anyways he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, explaining to you about the big play that just happened

you would just stare at him and take glances at the game because he was just so admirable

he knew so much, he played really well

you knew he worked so hard to try and get nationals, yet his team ended up not making it

out of the blue while you both sit and watch, you stretch up to kiss his cheek

oikawa, who usually isn’t too flustered, has pink-dusted cheeks when he looks at you

“yes princess...?”

“nothing, i just adore you.”

the growing smile on his face makes you giggle and rest your head on his shoulder

the game continues, oikawa continuing to make remarks about each team, observing the game

you get a little bored, hugging his arm and watch the ball go back and forth 

oikawa pays really close attention tho bc he offers to take you home awwwwww

“if you’re tired we can go-”

“no it’s okay!! i like hearing your commentary uwu”

stop he’s so in love with you

like he would stare at you after that and just be all <3

and so you two stay for the whole game (you fell asleep some point,,,,,, woke up once to buy water LMAO)

watching volleyball with oikawa makes you realize how much he has a passion for it and you just admire him. so. much. 

and oikawa would be so grateful that you’re so supportive and he’d tell you a thousand times after the game that he’ll do anything for you bc you tagged along and everything pls <3

matsukawa

you two hang out at your place and land upon the shiratorizawa vs karasuno game

you: aren’t those the teams you guys lost to

issei: yeah and what about it. 

he’d jokingly pout and hide his face in your neck

“you’re mean </3″ he’d whine

you laugh and run your fingers through his hair 

he grins, his hands going to rub your back as you two watch the game on the screen

you recognize some of the players from aoba johsai’s previous games, humming while watching them play

issei is only half paying attention

“well he’s cute,” you note, watching the camera pan through the karasuno members, only for it to stop on the captain

issei would roll his eyes and smack your ass a little LMAO 

“he’s short,” he’d retort, chuckling soon after when you look at him and roll your eyes back at him

“okay and”

BYE HE’D JOKINGLY GET MAD AND GO “go date your new boyfriend then<3″

it’s all fun and games between you two tho and it’s soooo cute !!

he can be a little shit but 

anyways you’re cheering for karasuno, occasionally going ‘look at their captain omg <3′ 

issei would sit up with you still straddling him and he’d just press kisses against your neck, making you giggle and try to push him away

“stopppppppp”

“not until you take your eyes off of him~”

you run your fingers through issei’s hair once more, smiling and leaning down to kiss him 

“don’t worry issei, i’m all yours”

he’d lay back again, letting you lay on top of his chest

the game keeps going, you and mattsun sitting in comfortable silence while watching

your eyes are heavy and you don’t pay any attention to it

but then you wake up hours later, still on top of your bf’s rising chest

(pls i love him god i want to hug him and cuddle with him he’s so fucking cute <3333)

hanamaki

tbh semi was one of your old friends from middle school so he asked you to come to his game,,,

your boyfriend wanted to hang out with you so you asked if he wanted to go

HONESTLY he’d be like ‘since when did you talk to people from shiratorizawa’ but he’d be fine with it

maybe he’s a little bitter but lmao

you two go to look for your friend, and when you see him, you call his name and hug him

“eita!!”

makki:  🧍

semi: hi uwu

you would introduce them to each other all smiley 

there’s tension and for what

semi: okay well i have to go warm up

you: bye eita ^^

makki:,,,

PLEASE????????

you two would sit close to the school section and holy shit is hiro glad that he didn’t wear his team jacket LMAO he would’ve gotten flamed

anyways not you cheering for eita even tho you have no idea what the fuck is going on lmao

hiro is amused and he just thinks you’re so cute tbh 

he’s staring at you watching you yell out semi’s name even tho he wasn’t in the starting lineup help.

he’s such a dumbass tho pls 

HE WOULD PURPOSELY BOO ONCE WHEN SHIRATORIZAWA SCORES THEIR FIRST POINT DAKJNDKJBJKD

not these girls staring at y’all um......

you’d scold him and he’s just :P

anyways you take a break from cheering and you sit, leaning on your boyfriend’s shoulder

“hiro are you doing okay?” you mumble, playing with his hand

“mhm, are you?”

you nod at his question and watch the game continue

“you sure you’re okay?? you seemed kinda tense, maybevenalittlejealous, when i introduced you to eita”

“i’m fine baby don’t worry”

him: me???????????? jealous>?????????????????? no.

YOU WOULD TEASE HIM SOOOO MUCH AND HE KEEPS DENYING IT EVEN THO HE VERY SECRETLY IS

after the game, you drag your boyfriend along with you to tell eita he did a good job

he’d give you a really big and long hug in which hanamaki is just standing there 

you gush about how great eita was, earning a big smile from him

when you leave the gymnasium hand in hand with hanamaki, you cling onto his arm, your smile never leaving your face

“soooo did you like the game?” you ask, looking up at your unusually quiet boyfriend

“mhm”

“did you like meeting eita uwu”

“yeah-”

“were you jealous??”

“no comment.”

cue you teasing him while his cheeks become the same color as his pink hair 

he’d just remove his arm from your grasp and then wrap it around your waist to pull you closer to him

(SORRY I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY .......)

iwaizumi

i know we all know this but iwaizumi hajime best bf idc !!!

he honestly wanted to go see the game bc he just wanted to see how the teams would play against each other

he had asked you if you wanted to tag along so you agreed

in all honestly, he didn’t think you would want to because you don’t usually seem interested in it whenever he talks about it, but in truth, you listen to every word he says abt it pls TT

he loves u so so much and u love that he’s passionate about volleyball HE JUST,, DOESNT REALIZE THAT YOU LISTEN

like he thinks it’ll bother you if he talks about it too much <//3

he’s the one who is genuinely surprised when you point out a strategy karasuno had used

“y/n i didn’t realize you liked volleyball??”

“you talk about it all the time silly”

and you give him a kiss on the nose and he just :0

“hajime cmonnnn you took me to the game you should tell me more about it uwu”

STOP. he literally,,, loves u so much

he holds your hand, his little smile never leaving his face

you lean your head on his shoulder, watching the game on the court

when the tall blond blocks ushijima’s block, you flinch a bit and stand up to look closer, seeing the tall blond yell and his teammates following suit

you cheer along with them, your boyfriend finally standing up to stand next to you

his eyes are on you only, your hair bouncing with you as you jump in excitement, your eyes shimmering with excitement

his smile just grows as you grin , turning to him in excitement

“did you see that hajime?? :D”

STOPP HES SO IN LOVE HE JUST STARES AT YOU .

and u just :D

“hajime..???”

YOU HAVE TO SNAP YOUR FINGERS IN FRONT OF HIS FACE AND HE JUST SNAPS OUT OF IT AND LOOKS AT YOU

“you’re very beautiful princess, did you know that?”

that alone makes you go pink and you playfully push him by his arm

“baby stopppp”

and you’re both just laughing and watching the game together, spending the whole day with your hands intertwined 

(he.. hajime best boy)

yahaba

you had started watching the game a bit after the first set started and your boyfriend was busy taking a shower

you knew a lot in all honesty, since shigeru happened to be on one of the powerhouse schools in terms of volleyball throughout miyagi

if he was gonna be honest he wasn’t expecting you to sit down and actually watch a game of volleyball intently

so walking into his room seeing you focusing on the karasuno v. shiratorizawa match surprised him a bit

“you watching the game?” he’d ask

“mhm!! it’s really interesting uwu”

he finds it absolutely adorable but then he tries to flirt and flex his muscles like “babe look i just got out of the shower” AND YOU JUSt,, KEEP LOOKING AT THE TV

yahaba: baby *bites lip*

you: babe get dressed and come watch with me

goodbye he just throws a shirt and some shorts on and basically jumps on top of you in which you yelp and go “shiGERU” and his mom is ON HIS ASS !!!!!!!! she literally comes in and she’s like “shigeru stop jumping onto your gf” and you rlly stick your tongue out at him

him: you’re acting like a child

you: you STARTED IT.

and you guys bicker a little and you just go “well you made me miss half the game” and HE GETS SO MAD HELPPPP

“BOOOOO”

him: clinging onto you, asking you to cuddle him

you: watching the game

eventually you give in and hug him, kissing him which makes him go quiet

“are you happy now you baby?” you ask him

“.......maybe.....”

and he just gives you a quick kiss, smiling and also giving you a slight eskimo kiss

the game becomes an afterthought as he brings up the beach volleyball game the third years organized for tomorrow all day, asking if you could help his team out 

(he insists that since you’re the ref, you should help his team consisting of kyoutani, kunimi, hanamaki, and another first and second year win bc kyoutani will just keep spiking outside the lines but you tell him it’s cheating LMAO...)

watari

(btw he’s so underrated i mean he’s not one of my faves but he deserves the world like y’all sleep on him and for what)

he’s super observant and he had been watching recorded games for a while to learn and make sure he plays his best next year pls </3 

he had invited you over to his place to hang out and you really wanted him to take a break from watching all of those recorded games

you emphasized this when you told him you would come over lmao

but alas.........

when he opened the door and you looked at the tv to see what he had put on, you saw the shiratorizawa v. karasuno game

watari: I CAN EXPLAIN.

you: .... sir.. 

PLEASE he’s taking your hand and pulling you to the couch while saying he’ll relax and just watch for fun

you sigh and follow him, letting him pull you down to sit next to him on his couch

you throw your legs over his lap, smiling while looking at him

he would give you quick, soft kisses all over your face and you both just fall into a fit of giggles

stop u literally love watching him gaze at the tv so passionately and observe how they play </3

YOU GIGGLE AT HIM AND HE’S LIKE “what are you laughing about?”

AND YOURE JUST LIKE “you’re so cute uwu”

so y’all are really just out here giggling at each other huh....... 

he??? pulls you into his lap and hugs you tightly

he’s literally so in love with you pls

so you guys just sit there and watch the game while you occasionally ask him questions

he’d be happy to tell you and he’s holding onto you the whole. entire. time.

honestly the game kinda slips away from you because you’re suddenly asleep on his chest, his arms around your waist, a hand gently rubbing your back

and he’s so grateful that he has a girlfriend who cares about him and worries about him :((

he’d turn off the game and then take a little nap with u <3 

kindaichi

tbh you spent so much time with him after the game his team lost bc he kept beating himself up for it which is >:(((((

him: i could’ve-

you: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DO NOT BRING YOURSELF DOWN COME HERE LET ME KISS YOU

as you should !!

and when he tells you he’s gonna be watching the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match after school at his place, you tell him you’re watching with him too

“i don’t want it to bore you y/n-”

“it won’t bore me yutaro dw uwu”

no bc the way you’re both in love !!!!!

you would do anything for him tbh but you genuinely thought his passion for volleyball was cute :D

he was always striving to do his best and you think he’s absolutely precious

he’d turn on the game and then immediately come over to sit with you 

you lean onto him, clinging onto his arm and smiling

“y/n are you sure you wanna watch with me??”

“mhm!!”

he gives u a very soft kiss on the head and you can’t stop smiling bc you know he gets kinda shy abt showing affection

but he feels very warm and you start feeling very sleepy 

YOU TRY YOUR BEST TO KEEP YOURSELF AWAKE

you think him making comments abt the game or what he finds interesting is really cute but youre just,, tired ya know

he notices and he’s like “you should sleep-”

“noooo yutaro i’ll watch with youuuu”

“y/n cmonn”

you pout and lean turn to lean your forehead against his arm

“i don’t wanna </3″

“it’s okayyy you can sleep if youre tired”

you look at him and he smiles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead

you can’t help but melt and you’re just,, staring at him dreamily

he’s like “..baby..?”

and you just lean forward and kiss him

“you’re the best bf ever <3″

and he chuckles and goes “and you’re the best and cutest gf ever”

he has you lay down on his bed, your hair sprawled about his pillows

he lays with you, the two of you facing the tv and your back to him

he puts an arm around you, smiling

you slowly fall asleep, smiley and snuggling back towards yutaro

he kisses your head again, telling you that he loves you and hopes you sleep well 

he’s so<333

kunimi

he acts like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the game but you guys are chilling at his place and you flip to the channel that has the game on 

at first he’s like “you’re interested ?? in this ????”

you: babe,, of course i am,,  my bf is a volleyball player,,,,,?

PLS? he’d be like ‘oh ok’ and rest his chin on top of your head

it’s so chill between the two of you guys he’s literally just playing with your hair, humming a bit

you ask him smth but he asks you to repeat what you asked because he spaced out 

and when you ask again he just stares at you and is like ‘yes’

YOU JUST LAUGH AT HIM AND HE THINKS YOURE SO PRETTY so he just continues to listen to you ramble abt the game

eventually, he finds himself dozing off and you take notice as his chin starts feeling heavy on your head

“baby c’mon let’s take a nap-”

and he’d shake his head and go “we can finish the game-”

but you can tell he’s tired, especially from practice earlier today

so you turn off the game and turn so that you’re straddling his lap and hugging him tight

he wraps his arms around you and hums, kissing you

you smile and lean back to look at him, his eyes droopy from exhaustion

“sleep bby”

“mm only if you do too”

“i will dw <3″

and you just cling onto him, arms around his neck

he hums,  nuzzling your neck and you giggle

eventually, you two start breathing slowly, falling asleep

(tbh you didn’t rlly even care who won you just watched the game bc it was on LMAO)

kyoutani

you guys were hanging out in your room, his head in your lap while you sat up against your pillows

you were both occupied by your phones atm

he put his phone down, looking up at you curiously

you smiled as he reached to intertwine his fingers with yours

he had been at the gym more often, playing volleyball and practicing 

especially after their loss against karasuno :( 

today was one of the days that he decided he would spend his time being with you 

he doesn’t voice it often, but he appreciates how much you support him and care for him

(you picked him up from the gym the other day with some of his favorite deep fried chicken bits with the cute chicken packaging and he didn’t know how else to show you how much he loves and appreciates you other than by cuddling with you all night pls i’m </3)

anyways he’s just staring at you, admiring you, thinking about how much he loves you while you’re watching some tiktok your friend had sent you 

you had asked if he wanted to watch the game with you on your phone but he had been occupied thinking about you 

“what’d you say-?”

“i asked if you wanted to watch the game with me..? if you don’t want to it’s fine-”

“oh sure”

and he’d adjust himself so that he’s sitting with you, shoulder-to-shoulder, leaning his head so that it lays on top of yours

you’d just be all smiley, leaning into him more while playing the live stream of the game

he seemed focused, watching the game intently

you tried to focus on the game, but the only thing you could think about was the way kyoutani was holding your hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb

eventually, as the game continues, he huffs a little, making you look up and smile at him

“you okay? we can stop watching if you want-”

“it’s fine-”

and then he adjusts himself, scooting away from you to lay his head in your lap

he reaches for your hand and puts it on his head, looking up at you

you oblige, gently rubbing his head and smiling

his eyes are closed, a slight hum coming from him

after a while, you realize kyoutani had fallen asleep, so you turn the game on your phone off

during this, kyoutani grumbles, reaching for your hand

you can’t help but giggle a little, rubbing his head while humming a little

“get some rest baby~” you croon quietly, staring at him lovingly

he opens his eyes a little, giving you a small smile

“you too okay..?”

“mhm-!”

when he closes his eyes, you smile, mumbling a little ‘i love you’ to your boyfriend

[shurisneakers]

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible. 

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees. 

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were. 

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.  

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen. 

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it. 

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.  

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

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