#these shouldn’t be labeled as run I think like they gotta be different

[sangric]

THE BOYZ — [PHANTASY] Pt.3 Love Letter #Run

[mothgodofchaos]

Spirits

In my defense, it was a fantastic pun. And sometimes you just gotta pour one out for the homies. On a different note, I hurt my own feelings writing this.

Ghost!Chase x GN!Reader, TW: alcohol, grief, death, funeral mention, human experimentation mention Words: 870

You get out of your car in the graveyard parking lot, the anniversary of Chase’s death. It’s gotten a little easier over the years, but it’s still hard to believe he’s gone. You take the grocery bag out of the back seat, heading through the gates to find his grave. You know where it is, your feet almost take you there by themselves, you’ve walked the path so many times. That laboratory deemed his death a “non-preventable casualty” and refused to give any details, and something inside you has told you it wasn’t an accident.

You pull your hood over your ears, the chill autumn air sending shivers down your spine. Just like you do every year, you stare at his gravestone, almost like you’re processing all over again that he’s truly gone. Like you never fully believed it. And you don’t even know if you ever will. You set the bag down, getting down on one knee as you rustle through it. From the bag you pull out a bottle of whiskey, an energy drink, and a small bouquet of flowers. Old flowers are discarded, long dried out and abandoned. You hold the beverages in your hands, staring at the labels. They’re his favorites, ironic how the drinks you tried to get him to stop drinking end up being the things you bring to his grave.

You pop the cork of the whiskey and open the can of energy drink, watching as the two pour out onto the ground, sinking deep into the ground. Something about it feels, good almost. Making a danger cocktail for him, exactly like the ones he used to try and get you to drink. When there’s nothing more than a few sips in each left, you down them yourself, making a face but, you do it for him.

You get comfortable, talking to him about how life has been this year. The ups, the downs, how you still check on his brothers for him. Trying to do best by him while also living your life. It’s a difficult balance, but you have support keeping you upright. When you run out of things to say, you set the whiskey bottle on the lip of the headstone, placing the flowers inside. It’s what he would’ve wanted. As you walk away, something inside you pulls you back, looking at his name on the stone. Through tears, you give him one last fistbump, for old time’s sake.

You step away, wiping your eyes on your sleeve as you take your trash back to your car.

“WAIT-“

You stop in your tracks, not believing what you heard. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank the whiskey and energy drink…

“Dude! I know you can hear me!”

You spin around to be faced with an apparition of Chase, ghostly blue but he almost looks solid in the evening light.

“Chase-“

You cautiously reach out to him, hand colliding with his chest. He’s cold, but he’s there. Your hands move to his shoulders, looking at him through tears before pulling him into a hug. All you can manage out are sobs, apologies, scoldings for leaving you without him, anything you can think to say to him now that you know he’s listening.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. Well, I’m not, I’m a ghost. But I thought you could help me with that…”

The idea of getting your friend back makes your heart leap, maybe, maybe you could fix things between the two of you. Confess the things you always wanted to.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, dude.”

“My body… isn’t here. It’s still at the facility. I didn’t even know I had a grave, although I guess I should’ve expected that.”

“It- it’s not here!?”

You fish through your memories of the funeral, realizing you never saw Chase in that casket. The top was always closed.

“They said the lid was closed because you were disfigured…”

“Yeah that’s a load of bullshit. They were the ones that killed me. They’re trying to use my body as a vessel for… something.”

Your face is a mixture of horror and disgust, which makes Chase chuckle a little bit.

“So… we’re breaking your body out of prison?”

“I mean, that’s one way of putting it.”

“And your brothers? They’ll want to see you. Want to help.”

“I know! I know! But, I wanted to see you first. I didn’t realize you still cared.”

“I always cared, Chase. No matter what your thoughts said. I thought I was waiting for you to come back to me emotionally, not spiritually…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to. But, they grabbed me. The facility-“

“You need to talk to Henrik about that, later. Right now, I have my boy back. And we’ll get your body back, I promise.”

“Your boy… I forgot you called me that.”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

“Always. Please.”

You look at each other for a moment, before you pull him to your chest, kissing the top of his head.

“Let's get you home. See your brothers. Marv will be able to help in the short term.”

“You’re staying, right?”

“Wouldn’t leave you even if they decided it was my turn to go to that facility.”

[empresstheresa-guide]

Theresa and Steve, a love story for the ages.. part 2

Part 2: A little ditty about Jack and Theresa. This will be short. 

In chapter 3, Theresa goes to Boston College. Before she even has time to settle down, guys are already staring at her in the cafeteria. 

”There was a group of kids at a nearby table looking at me.  A girl learns to read expressions. ”

Every time Norman describes how girls/women think, I lose a brain cell. 

”One boy was intently looking at me.  I called him Mr. Intense.  He was very handsome, with short hair as black as my own, and he was around six feet which was a good match for my five feet four inches.  I liked taller guys and apparently he liked smaller girls. He wasn’t gawking at a pretty girl, or lusting for her body.  He looked interested.  And that’s ok.  A girl gets used to being looked at.”

This is Steve. She’s basically in love with him already. What’s the difference between lusting for her body and being ”interested”? 

My experience is that most women don’t enjoy being stared at, but men think we do. Norman reminds me of those insufferable guys who think women’s main task on Earth is to attract men. He probably is one of those guys.

In Theresa’s case, of course, she’s already being watched by 400 government agents, so she should be used to it. But I don’t think Norman considered that here. She doesn’t even question whether Steve is a watcher, and that’s why he’s so intently staring at her. This chapter has zero HAL and discusses Theresa like she was an ordinary college student. There’s just one brief interlude - which I will skip here - about her watchers being caught by campus cops. 

One of Norman’s issues as a writer is that he doesn’t even try to fit different parts of the book together. This chapter is about Jack and Steve, so HAL is not relevant here. You’d think if Theresa gives off heat and has super strength, that would be mentioned at least in passing. The boys would notice she gives off heat, right? Or she could slip up and use her powers by mistake. That would have made the book much more interesting. Theresa’s career as a baseball player is also completely dropped, she has no interest in joining college level teams, and no one is pressuring her to do so. 

”   But it wasn’t Mr. Intense who made the first move.  A boy next to him, Mr. Fastmove,  brought his food tray over to my table.”

Mr. Intense is organic, if unoriginal, but Mr. Fastmove… There is a moving company called Fastmove, but apart from that, I didn’t find much on google. Maybe Norman coined this phrase. 

”Hi,” said Mr. Fastmove.  “Can I sit here?”

      “Sure,” I said with a smile.  I had been advised to be friendly from day one or be labeled a tease for the rest of our four years.”

Oh no Norman. No no no. No. 

”I’m Jack Koster,” said Mr. Fastmove.  “Aren’t you Theresa Sullivan, the baseball player?”

      I had been on television a lot.”

Gotta work in those brags at every opportunity. Once you mention his real name, you can drop the nickname, but I think Norman is just proud of what he did here. Also note there is NO description whatsoever of Jack’s looks or manner, just that he came to her table. Norman isn’t even trying. 

“I am,” I said, and we were off and running.  I noticed that Mr. Intense looked disappointed.  It made me think of someone whose neighbor won the lottery.”

Being with Theresa is like winning the lottery. Our humble girl. 

I genuinely don’t understand why she hooks up with Jack at all. All she had to do was say ”nice to meet you” and walk away. She shouldn’t feel obligated to date the boy who happens to talk to her first. 

Next, Theresa looks up both boys on BC’s computer system where, in 2017, ”BC provided free disk space and all the students were urged to set up a webpage about themselves before they got to school.” Norman probably wrote this part in 2001 and forgot to change it.

This is all she says about Jack: 

” Jack was a boy from close to New York City but not in it.  His father was owner of a specialty food store.  Jack was going to be a history major, a guarantee of a job in his father‘s store.”

Is Norman negging history majors? This reminds me of a skit show that advertised college degrees, including a 13-year degree for really dumb students who are just killing time before they get a job in their father’s business. Maybe Norman thinks history is equally pointless. (With the exception of Joan of Arc.) 

But enough about Jack, who cares about the boy she’s actually going to date. Let’s talk about Steve. 

”  Mr. Intense was Steve Hartley.  His father was a physicist for Intel and Steve was majoring in physics too.  That was interesting.  He mentioned he was Catholic.  Also interesting. ”

Wow, a Catholic boy in a Catholic college? How interesting. 

”Steve’s page showed the kid of a research physicist, precise, succinct, and somewhat lacking in spontaneity.  Something like myself, actually.  It wasn’t a bad thing, except in reality TV shows where they have to keep the gab going all the time.”

Just date him already. You can’t fully know someone’s personality just based on whatever ”webpage” they set up, either. He’s still a complete stranger. The mention of reality shows really ruins this paragraph, too. If people in reality shows just sat silently, it wouldn’t be very good TV. Norman has to work in every single pet peeve of his. This is a typical problem for people writing their first story. 

” Jack knew I was not the kind of girl who had to put up with foul language or crude jokes, and he carefully avoided them.  He was one smooth operator.”

*headdesk* Being a ”smooth operator” isn’t necessarily a good thing, and is in fact associated with manipulating others. I don’t even know what Norman means here.

” One Sunday Steve saw me at Mass.  He looked embarrassed, like somebody who had missed his chance, not somebody who did something bad.  Well, four years is a long time and the campus had a lot of women.   ”

Why are you even looking at him when you’re dating someone else? 

”Steve seemed nice in person.  He always gave me a little smile like he was glad to see me.  He and Jack were casual friends and apparently didn’t  talk about me.  But I’d seen the looks.  Steve was genuinely interested. ”

Yes, you already made this point. She’s going on about Steve and his interest, while dating Jack. Wouldn’t that be a sin, dating a boy you don’t care about and spending all your time admiring another boy? It doesn’t seem like something a good Catholic girl would do.

”There was nothing wrong with dating Jack for a while.  It was already clear that we were not compatible enough for a lifetime of commitment.  He was a little careless about schoolwork and had no passion for his major.  I was fanatical about mine.  But Jack was fun to be around for the time being.”

She’s fanatical about her major, which she doesn’t even name here. Spoiler alert: it’s math, which she picked because it was meant to help with HAL? I’m not sure how that would have worked. Later on, she says that all she ever wanted was to be a high school math teacher, something she never mentions before that moment. 

After Jack comes to her table, there is not a single scene where Theresa and Jack talk to each other alone, or go on a date. Not a single one. Jack is never fleshed out. What does he look like? Is Theresa attracted to him at all? What’s his personality like? If he has many stories to tell, you could give an example and have him tell a compelling story. That would have been interesting. 

One of the more famous triangle dramas was on ”The Office”. Roy was initially established as a jerk, but he was kind to Pam at least sometimes, and he truly tried to better himself. We knew she would end up with Jim, but Roy was not a complete monster, and he seemed human. Jack has no personality, no description, nothing. I believe KrimsonRogue said that the characters are somehow less than two-dimensional, and Jack definitely fits that description. He’s like a cardboard cutout of a boy. 

”Come October it was Homecoming week, always a big weekend on any college campus.  There were many special activities going on and we had to choose a list.”

Remember this later when she claims BC has no entertainment or parties at all. 

”Friday nights, the kids would ‘hang‘ around,  meaning drift up and down the dormitory hall talking and joking with anybody there. ”

How do you do, fellow kids?

”Jack’s door was open and I walked in.  There were six boys visiting Jack including Steve Hartley, and one girl.”

I guess it’s relevant for later that Steve is there, but it still sounds like she only has eyes for him.  

As Theresa walks into the room, an awkward silence falls. 

”Hi, Theresa” said Jack with not a lot of enthusiasm.  “This is Ginny.”

“Hi” I said.  There was not much else to say until I found out something.

“Ginny dropped in by surprise” Jack said.

”Yeah!  I could see that!  I couldn’t remember seeing her around campus, or at least not in our complex.  She might be somebody from outside.”

This would be a lot more powerful if Theresa actually gave a damn about Jack. 

Also names. Ginny is short for Virginia. There is another character called Virginia later in the book, just like there’s another character called Jack. I doubt Norman has read ”Harry Potter”; he probably knew young girls called Virginia when he was growing up. What’s wrong with age appropriate names for 2017? Emily, Sophia, Madison? 

”The embarrassing silence continued.  Ginny looked very uncomfortable.  She had known no more about me than the other way around.  Ginny’s position near Jack made it clear she considered herself his girlfriend.”

Jack has to be discarded so Theresa can be with Steve. For some reason, Theresa can’t just tell him they’re incompatible and she’s not interested in pursuing the relationship in the long term. He has to cheat on her, because this gives Theresa the moral high ground to dump Jack and move straight onto Steve.  

Norman probably thinks this is a great twist and the readers will be aghast at Jack’s behavior, but it just comes off as flat. He’s shitty, but there’s no stakes, because they hardly have a relationship at all. 

Jack promises to come up to Theresa’s room to talk. 

”I went back upstairs.  This was the most humiliating experience I ever had.  All those boys were watching.”

This at least is a normal human reaction to the events, I’ll give Norman that. But Theresa isn’t truly sad, she’s just embarrassed. It’s not her heart, but her ego that is wounded. 

And this is where the different editions begin. Buckle up for a wild ride through Norman’s weird imagination in part 3: roads diverged in the Kindle, and that made all the difference. 

[huggybug]

when it rains, it pours - matty beniers

word count: 1.4k words

um hello i wrote this in 30 mins at 1am so don’t hate me if it’s bad🫣 but the world needs more matty love and something about yelling at him in the rain is very therapeutic to my soul

“She’s still there?” You furrowed your eyebrows when you heard Brendan’s voice. Walking down the hallway in Matty’s new apartment in Seattle, you were quick to figure out that he was on facetime with his friend so you hung back, hoping to not disturb him.

“Yeah dude, I think she’s going home in a couple days” Matty replied.

“She better be gone before I get there, we’ve gotta tear shit up bro” Brendan said and Matty laughed loudly. You probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping but isn’t there a rule like if someone’s talking about you then it’s fair game? That’s what you’ll go with anyways.

“Yeah yeah, trust me I’ll have her back home long before that” Your breath hitched and you could feel the tears pricking you eyes. While maybe what he said wasn’t particularly bad, you had felt like you’d been walking on eggshells this entire trip.

He asked you to come out to see his new place and maybe catch a game or two. He bought you a plane ticket and picked you up at the airport before taking you around his new home, a place you could already tell he loved. However, with everything he showed you, it just made you feel out of place.

You were apart of his college life. The two years of fun he got to have before starting his career and as amazing as it was to see him finally playing in the NHL, you knew that you weren’t meant to be here alongside him.

This was different. Seattle had captured Matty’s heart in a way he’d sworn would never happen because he ‘loved Michigan too much’. He looked at home here, it was natural for him. His life was already set up and planned out without leaving room for you. It was just as well though because at the end of the day, you were in Ann Arbor and he was here, simple as that.

You ran back to the bedroom, taking a few deep breaths as you tried to collect yourself before figuring out the best move. It only took a few minutes and a text to your mom to have her book a flight back to Michigan and you were ready to go.

You were doing him a favour, he deserved to have a fresh start, to not have to worry about his girlfriend back in college across the country. It would be easier this way. Once your bags were packed, you towed them out to the main area of his apartment. Matty was still on the couch but his phone was resting on the table and he was watching a replay of his game last night.

“Oh hey, we’re gonna meet for dinner at- what are you doing?” Matty cuts himself off when he sees you standing with your suitcase. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going home” You say, your voice coming out a little hoarse but you clear your throat, ignoring the feeling.

“What? Your flight isn’t for another couple days babe, did something happen?” You’re frozen as he gets up off the couch and makes his way over to you.

“I think we should break up” You blurt out, surprising yourself just as much as him. You weren’t even sure if there was anything to break up. He claimed that he didn’t think labels were important, that your feelings should be enough to not warrant a silly label. In hindsight, that should have been a red flag.

“Can we talk about this?” He was confused. Everything was going well, he thought inviting you out here would show you how serious he was and that he wanted to take the next step with you, at least that’s what Nick told him.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going home, good luck here Matty, you’re going to do great” You knew he would. He was Matty freaking Beniers, of course he will be amazing, it just sucked that you wouldn’t be here with him.

“Y/n! You can’t just leave like this what the hell!” Matty yells and you flinch. He’s never yelled at you and you hated it. It lit a fire in you that gave you the courage to actually walk out the door. You grab your suitcase and practically run to the door but Matty’s quick behind you, trying to grab your hand to stop you.

“Stop- just let me go” You storm out of the house and into the rainy streets of Seattle, not even caring that you didn’t have a jacket, you just had to get away from him.

“Y/n! Stop! Come on!” You ignored Matty’s calls, focusing on your steps as you felt the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. “Don’t do this! I love you!”You whip around to see him standing right behind you, panting a little from chasing you down the street.

“You’ve never loved me Matty, we both know that” It was all just a game to him, you were something to keep him busy while he waited for his real life to start. He never intended on bringing you along, you were never supposed to make it that far.

“Don’t say that” He huffed, reaching to grab your hands but you pull away. The rain continued to pelt down around you but the heat in his gaze was enough to distract you from your drenched clothes that were now sticking to your body.

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it? Isn’t that what you were talking to Brendan about?” Matty sucked in a sharp breath, he didn’t know that you heard him. “Yeah, you need me to leave so that you can go party with him so here you go, I’m making it easier on you”

“Babe, come on. That’s not-”

“Don’t. I can’t do this with you Matty” You didn’t want to hear a lame excuse. It would only make things worse.

“I thought bringing your out here would help make sense of everything. That it’d show us that long distance wouldn’t be so terrible and we could do it” He reached for your hand and this time, you let him. “Brendan was being an asshole, I swear whatever you heard it doesn’t mean anything”

“You don’t want me to leave?” You ask hesitantly and he scoffs, as if it were a completely ridiculous question.

“If you could, I would’ve had you move in with me in August” Matty smiled softly, “I always want you here, trust me”

“Swear?”

“I swear. Why wouldn’t I want my girl here?”

“Didn’t know I was your girl” You mumbled and Matty rolled his eyes.

“You wanna know the first thing I told Truss after I met you at that party?” He asked and you looked at him before nodding. “I said ‘if I don’t end up with her, I must’ve seriously fucked it up’ and yeah, maybe I was drunk out of my mind but I meant it and he reminds me of it all the time” You chuckle which makes him smile. “I love you and I’m not letting you go like this. You’re my everything, I don’t know when you decided that I wasn’t yours but you’ve always been mine” His eyes burned into yours and as much as you wanted to look away, to call a car to come pick you up and take you away, you couldn’t.

“I love you, always have and always will” You finally cave, squeezing his hands in reassurance.

“Yeah? So you’re not running out on me?” He asked humorously, smirking down at you.

“One condition”

“Anything” He grinned lazily.

“Am I your girlfriend?”

“Of course. I told you, you’re my everything give yourself any title you want, I don’t care. All I care about is if I have you” He pulls you into him and you go easily, finally feeling a little at ease in the new city. The moment seems to freeze when he kisses you, the rain falling around you goes silent and it’s suddenly just the two of you.

“This is so cliché Matty” You giggle once the moment ends. He wipes a tear from your face, still holding you close.

“What? Yelling at each other in the street?”

“No” You laugh, “Just something about the rain” It was something out of a movie but you loved it.

“Well it rains a lot in Seattle so you better get used to it” Matty replies, grabbing your bag as he guides you back to his apartment.

“Yeah I guess I should” You definitely plan on spending more time here, rain or not.

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

��hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[forever-rogue]

Gotta another idea for you (I think? Don't know if I already submitted this)

Anyway.

"Take it off . . . Or I will."

Maybe the oc/reader is wearing something sarcastically or mocking - a hat, t-shirt, or what have you. And oc/reader would respond with "Make me" and it ended up a wrestling match of a sort then make out session?

Ohhh, I enjoyed this and I hope you all do too ;)

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

He was supposed to be back within 3 days. 3 days.

It was going on 5. 5 kriffing days without your Mandalorian Tin Can.

Not you were worried. Sort of. Maybe. A little bit.

More so than anything else you were bored. Bored and stuck on the ship in the middle of nowhere. You couldn't even leave and go and anywhere. Luckily you had the small green bean with you but still.

You missed the grumpy, disgruntled Mandalorian. The kid was great and all but he even he was missing Din.

Part of you was wondering if he was doing on it on purpose, just to get a rise out of you. He'd done it before...just not, you know, for days.

Maker.

As much as you trusted him and knew be could handle himself, there was a tiny part of you that was worried. You hated the effect he had on you sometimes.

Normally you accompanied him on business, as his right hand...person. Friend? Partner? Lover? You'd never really put a label on your relationship, and sometimes it left you wondering. The line between just being work partners had become thinner and thinner over time and what had started off as a one time deal ended becoming a...very often type of deal.

You'd promised you wouldn't catch feelings. But that had happened a long time before your first night spent tangled up together. Not just for you, but for your Mandalorian too. The Mandalorian. Not yours. Just the.

But...kriff. Here you were. Missing him and worried about him. You'd get him back for that later. Now all you could do was wait for him to get back. You could go out and look for him, you supposed, but then you'd have to take the baby and you weren't about to subject him to anything dangerous if you didn't need to. And you had no clue what awaited you in the lawless land.

Instead you waited around. And waited. And waited. And cleaned the ship from top to bottom. Made some of the small repairs you spied. Made sure the weapons were pristine and properly stored away. You were tired - listless. But sleep wasn't going to come to you. It hadn't come in more than a few hours here and there since Din had left.

Instead you focused on your green bean, making sure he was bathed and had a full belly before trying to singing him softly to sleep. It took a while, but not long enough. Not long enough for Din to make a grand reappearance.

Once he was tucked safely into his pram for the night you found yourself wandering aimlessly. You sneaked into Din's quarters. Sneaked was a strong word; it wasn't like you weren't in there on a semi regular basis. But without him...it felt odd. Wrong even.

But you missed him, ached for him both mentally and physically. His presence was often the only thing that kept you feeling safe and sane.

Opening the door to the small space he called a wardrobe, small sigh escaped your lips at the familiar smell. No matter how often his clothes were washed, his scent always clung to them. It was comforting, reassuring in the times he was gone. Touching over some of the worn fabrics, you wondered what would happen if you happened to take a shirt and wear. It would only be for a little while...and you'd put it back before he came home. He wouldn't even notice.

So you pulled one of long sleeves out and quickly discarded your own shirt, opting to wear the Mandalorian's. Immediately you felt a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. Maybe he wasn't there physically, but this was pretty close. It would do for now.

Eventually, despite the late hour, you were still wired. Maybe you shouldn't have had all that caf earlier, but it was too late to regret those decisions.

Instead you turned the holo-radio, playing some music softly as you danced around the hull of the Crest. It was a vain attempt to wear yourself out, and you were in nothing but Din's shirt and your underwear, totally engrossed in the music.

So engrossed that you didn't hear the ramp open or the purposely heavy footsteps of one Din Djarin.

Din chucked his gear onto one of the nearby crates, before deciding to wait and see how long it took for you to notice his presence.

While you didn't hear him, you could practically feel the gaze of his helmet burning holes into your back. When you finally turned to face him, his arms were crossed over his broad chest, his head tilted to the side. Kriff.

"D-Din! You're back," you almost stumbled over your own feet at you stared back at him. Your heart was fluttering as you tried to determine whether he was happy, angry, or...something. Your smile was flattering as you followed his gaze and realized he was staring at your chest, "oh! I didn't...think you were...coming back tonight."

"I said 3 days," his voice was rough and gritty, as tantalizing as it was when he was growling in your ear under the cover of dark while he was inside you. That alone was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Its been 5," your resolve was already weakening as he took a step closer.

"Exactly," his intense gaze was already starting to make you weak in the knees, "you should have been expecting me anytime."

"I-I-I..." you backed up but soon hit the wall and found yourself trapped, "didn't..."

"Is that my shirt?" he tugged at the collar with his gloved hand as you swallowed thickly. The room was filled with nothing but pure tension, sexual tension, as you stared at him wordlessly. When you remained silent, he roughly, although not hard enough to do any lasting damage, grabbed your chin and turned your face up to meet his, "I asked you a question, sweet one. Is. That. My. Shirt?"

"Mhmm," you mumbled as you looked at with the widest and most innocent eyes possible.

"Take it off," he said sternly. If you didn't know him, didn't know about your relationship with him, you might have been scared. But you weren't. You knew right where this was going. You gave him a defiant little look before catching him off guard and ducking out from under his arm.

"No," you insisted, sticking out your tongue at him, just to rile him up a little bit, "what are you doing to, Big Bad Mandalorian?"

"Take it off," his voice was low and dangerous as he came back to you, "or I will."

"That doesn't sound much like a threat," you raised your arms up, letting the fabric ride up and expose some of your soft bare skin, "come and take it off then."

"You are such a brat sometimes," he sighed before slowly stripping off some of his armor.

"And what about it?" you teased as he came over and you started to dart out of his grasp. But it didn't take much for his long legs to catch up as he wrapped an arm around your waist, and quickly flipped off the lights, leaving the Crest in darkness.

"Such an easy catch," he snorted as you tried to squirm out of his grasp laughing as you wrestled him to floor. Of course, if he'd been trying at all, he'd never let you get the one up on him. But he easily acquiesced and let you pin him to the ground as you straddled his waist. His large hands made quick work of pulling off your, his, shirt and throwing it onto the floor.

"Maybe I wanted to be caught," you grinned at him, despite the darkness as his hands found purchase on your waist, "I was worried."

"About me?"

"Who else, Tin Can?" you as you leaned down, hands going to the sides of his helmet. When he didn't stop you, you slowly pulled it off and set it to the side, "you were gone for too long."

"Getting all soft on me?" his rich, warm voice was like music to your ears as you leaned down and kissed him, finding his lips warm and soft, "I was fine."

"I am not soft," you instead as you kissed every part of his face before going back to his lips. A hand went to the back of your neck as he held you tightly against him, his own kisses becoming more and more heated. You paused for a moment, running a hand through his mussed curls, "just don't be gone that long next time. Or tell me if you'll be longer, or send a message or something."

"Fine," he promised as he pulled off his gloves and stroked your cheek. You keened into his touch before going back to kissing him again, "softie."

"Shut up," you insisted weakly as you held onto him as tightly as possible, already feeling relieved that he was back and safe in your arms, "I know you missed me too."

"How so?"

"You always do," you insisted, "I can tell- the way you kiss me. Its different and I can feel it."

"And what about it?" he repeated lightly as you groaned your hips against his, "tell me what you need, sweet one."

"You, Din. I need you."

"And then you shall have it."

[word-ghost]

so a while back I wrote a depressing lil prologue about my farmer, Peach. Now, thanks to all the awesome people at the grapefruit sky server on discord, I have a depressing lil prologue for Harvey too 😌

late spring, year negative five

Harvey slumped forward over the planner on his desk. The next seven days stared back at him, empty other than their number in the upper right corner. The month was near the end of its climb. Soon it would tumble into the next, and it would be a year since Harvey had left his life behind.

He straightened to match the wooden back of his chair, pushing away from the desk and glancing at the drawer to the bottom right. He reached down to pull it open. The drawer shuddered on its wooden slide, the left edge scraping against its ill-fitting frame. It was still there.

When Harvey first arrived to assume the life of his aged predecessor, Pierre had gifted him a bottle of scotch to celebrate their going into business together. What he’d meant was that Harvey would be writing a rent check in Pierre’s name every month for— forever. Harvey weighed the word against his experiences over the past months.

One of his more regular patients despised him. He was lucky if half of the rest showed up on time for their appointments; if they bothered to come at all. A quarter of those who kept their appointments didn’t take him seriously.

Harvey’s hand dipped into the drawer and carefully lifted the amber-filled glass. He didn’t know much about whisky, but after a brief examination of the label, he knew this bottle was nothing special. He removed the stopper and sniffed it like he might a wine cork. A smoky-sweet scent followed the sharp sting of alcohol. Harvey checked that the closest coffee cup on the desk was empty before he poured himself what he thought to be the standard amount.

Harvey was thankful no one was around to see him flinch at the taste. His college friends had always teased him, the one who brought his own bottle of wine to parties rather than go for the keg or the cooler of punch. They had fallen out of touch after he moved, but it was his failure as much as theirs.

With the smooth burn of courage still sliding down his throat he picked up the phone. He dialed the first number to come to mind. He waited for five rings before he heard his friend’s voice, and then it was only a recorded name.

“‘Benny Lawrence’ is not available. At the tone, please record your message—”

Harvey used a finger to depress the switch, and when he lifted it the dial tone blared in his ear once again. He dialed, wedging the phone to his ear with his shoulder. He swallowed another mouthful before the third ring.

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now. How the hell have you been, man?” Dan’s voice was a near shout over a backdrop of car horns and fragmented voices.

“When was the last time we talked?” Harvey chuckled, mild excitement beginning to bubble over.

“Damn, I don’t know. About a year?”

“Ah. Things aren’t much different than then. But I’m not complaining.” He wasn’t sure why he’d added the last bit. Maybe even now the things he liked about Pelican Town still outweighed the things he didn’t. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “How about you? Still enjoying city life?”

“I have more time to enjoy it these days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Better gig, better hours. I’m in pediatrics now at— oh, damn. Harv, I gotta run if I’m gonna catch my train. Talk soon, okay?”

“Oh— yeah. Soon.” Harvey tried not to sound disappointed. The momentary joy he felt hearing his friend’s voice drained away. He hung up the phone and downed his drink, its burn suffusing in his chest as he poured another.

He picked up the handset once again, fingers putting in the numbers without asking permission. On the second ring, he thought better of his actions. But before Harvey could hang up, she answered.

Hearing her voice after all these months was like rediscovering a song to which he’d forgotten the words. Whatever version of it he’d stored away in his memory paled in comparison.

“Hello?” She repeated.

“H- hi, Violet.” Harvey swallowed. “It’s— it’s been a while.”

“Harvey?” She gasped. “Why are you calling me?

“We haven’t talked since—” he faltered; the absurdity of what he was doing finally struck him. “I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing—”

“I’m—” she started, but a voice interrupted; muffled, but familiar.

“Who is it, Vi?”

A hand shuffled over the microphone, not entirely cutting out their conversation on the other end. Harvey closed his eyes, making out some words over his pulse pounding in his ears.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know—”

“Hang up.”

“He sounds—” There was more shuffling, and the voices were stifled.

“Harvey?” Violet said a moment later.

“I’m still here,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Is— is everything alright?”

“You’re still seeing John?”

“Yes.” She paused. He could practically hear her prickle over the wire from some hundred miles away. “We— we got married.”

“Congratulations,” Harvey said after a moment of shock, unable to control the bitter edge to his voice. He leaned his elbows on the desk and scraped his free hand through his hair.

“I thought you would have heard by now.”

“How could I have? I was— I’ve been—”

“I know.” Her honeyed voice dripped with guilt. “I’m— I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“From you?” The whisky's warmth set his latent anger ablaze. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Don’t call here again.”

With a quiet click, the line went dead. The phone’s bell let out a fearful chirp as Harvey slammed the handset on its cradle. He gripped a handful of his hair, a knot forming in his throat. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock. But his head pounded and his stomach churned.

There was no reason Violet ever should have set her amber eyes on Harvey. He didn’t have the best grades, and he was never the most attractive person in the room. But she’d approached him at a college party, tapped her plastic cup of wine to his, and introduced herself.

From that moment their lives began to slowly merge. Her friends liked him well enough, and his buddies loved her. Their life goals were aligned. Their families got along— every splintered side of them. The years wore on, and the only problem in their relationship was him. Harvey’s eighty-hour workweeks wore him ragged. The patients he couldn’t help weighed on his conscience. And the stress of trying to achieve the dreams they had for their future caught up with him and broke him down.

Harvey couldn’t complete his internship, and Violet couldn’t accept it. Even after he sought help, and worked to improve his mental state, she wouldn’t understand why his plans had to change. Harvey believed they loved each other enough to survive anything. Violet believed she deserved to be a surgeon’s wife. Now she had everything she wanted, and she hadn’t needed him to get it.

Harvey’s thoughts swirled and clouded into a murky mess. He didn’t hear footsteps in the waiting room or the swish of the swinging door in the hall outside his office. He didn’t know anyone was there until—

“Dr. Palmer?”

Harvey whirled around. Maru stood in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Get out.” He glared at her through the tears in his eyes. His own tone gave him pause and he softened. “I’m sorry, but— please. Go.” He turned away from Maru, who hovered in the doorway, indecisive.

“What’s the matter, Harvey?” There was a softness in her voice he hadn’t heard before. Of course, he’d kept her at the same distance as anyone else.

“Please.” He leaned his elbows on his desk. His chest tightened around the breath in his lungs. “I can’t— I can’t be like this.”

What must he look like to her? No one in this town needed another reason to think him inadequate. Incapable. A small, choked sob escaped his throat and he hid his face in his hands, catching his tears before they could fall. His glasses clattered to the desk.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, lingering there until his breaths came at a more even pace. Then, it moved to put the lid back on the bottle, and the bottle back in the drawer. It retrieved his glasses, wiped them clean, and placed them in his hands. Harvey swallowed the bitter remnants of his pride, put on his glasses, and thanked her.

“Are you okay?” Maru said, emanating patience he didn’t deserve after snapping at her.

“She— after everything.” More tears fell with the bitter laugh that left him. “Six years.”

A few versions of the story had already circled the rumor mill since he’d been around. Harvey was glad someone would finally hear his side of it. It all spilled out, and Maru listened. For a moment he felt a sliver of the warmth he had missed since he moved to the valley. The warmth he felt hearing his friend’s voice over the phone, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Violet’s too.

[rosy-cheekx]

from the dialogue prompts! 6: “go away” “no, not until i know you’re okay”

Oh boy this one was hard to write for whatever reason, but she’s done! just in time for us to pretend a world in which Jon or Martin’s lives are ever in real danger doesn't exist....right?

AO3 Link in source on OP

-

On Being Fine, Absolutely Well-Adjusted, and OK

Martin supposed he should count himself lucky. He hadn’t needed to go to the hospital after the Prentiss attack, had come out with only a few worm scars to show for it, god especially when he thought about Jon and all the worms he and Sasha had had to corkscrew out of him, his face and neck and arms and legs—

See? Martin shook his head, clearing his mind’s eye of the silver and crimson kaleidoscope. It could have been worse. He scratched at his calf, where a close trio of scars had begun to heal, skin-tight and shiny, and, at last, remembered he was supposed to be washing his hands. He was glad the unisex Archive lav didn’t have a mirror by the sink; he didn’t need a reminder of how tired he must look.

The return to work had been difficult, but not as bad as he had expected it to be. Knowing Prentiss was dead had made it easier to return home, though he had immediately spent his first pain-free day rearranging the furniture, as recommended by his therapist. (He had lied to her, of course, claimed an attempted break-in + assault had traumatized him. It wasn’t that far off from the truth, anyways.) So Martin had been spending his evenings repositioning, redecorating, cleaning; anything he could to erase Jane Prentiss and those horrid things from his mind. It wasn’t easy, and Martin still spent nights awake, hyperaware of the smallest sound of squelching or the smell of rot. But he was alive, he reminded himself at home in the mornings, concealing eye bags and trying to reassemble his appearance into some approximation of normal, and shouldn’t that be enough? He hadn’t been seriously injured, like Jon or Tim, hadn’t had to risk a lonely end save them all like Sasha. He should be the most well-adjusted of the three of them.

So why was he here, in the Archive toilet, gripping the edge of the sink so hard he might crack it?

Martin released his grip and watched his blood flow back into his fingers, flexing them. He should really go do...something. Work, probably, if Jon ever decided to stop speaking to him like he was a jigsaw with too many pieces. He splashed some water on his face and exhaled deeply. He was fine, he could-

 “Oh shit!” Martin yelped as he turned to face the door into the bullpen. In the reflection at the corner of the mirror that hung on the back of the door was a shiny, squat, silver worm. “Fuckfuckfuck!” Martin cursed, backing into the door and pulling his shoe off with one hand. He patted for his beltloop, where had taken to keeping his corkscrew, and huffed to find it gone. Of course. He was trying not to be paranoid.

Picking up his shoe, he threw it at the worm, half-hidden by the rubbish bin. It bounced harmlessly—or, maybe it hit? Martin couldn’t tell. Either way, the worm moved, and that was when Martin’s vision greyed dangerously, heart leaping to his throat. Oh god, he couldn’t breathe? Why couldn’t he breathe? Was it the carbon dioxide? No. The fire alarm wasn’t going off. Martin’s thoughts raced and he desperately jiggled the door handle, only to find it turning against him. Oh god, it was her. It was-

“Martin?”

It was Jon.

“Jon? Jon, fuck, hey, don’t come in, okay? There’s a worm and I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

…is what he would have said if he could catch his breath. Instead, all he could let out was a raspy, strangled “Jon.”

“Martin, are you alright in there?” Jon’s voice was too calm, too casual for the bile rising in Martin’s throat.

“W-worm.” Martin sputtered as he heard a click of a cane through the door; probably Jon taking a step backward at the word. “Got-gotta kill it,” he babbled, more to himself than to Jon. He could try with the shoe again, but it hadn’t worked the first time, and that would leave him unprotected if he wanted to step on it.

“No! Martin, don’t-”

Oh, he could step on it. Seized in a moment of something, a peculiar blend of bravery, fear, and plain exasperation, Martin crossed the few squares of lino between him and the worm and moved to step on it with precision. To his great surprise, it rolled out from under his foot, glinting against the overhead lighting.

“What?” Martin mumbled aloud, and the realization hit him all at once: this wasn’t a worm at all. Cautiously, he picked up the metal tube and spotted a small label on the bottom. The thin silver tube contained MAC #239: Not Like Other Girls, according to the reddish-brown sticker.

“Lipstick?” Martin whispered to himself, slumping against the wall of the bathroom and letting out a relieved sob. He had been terrified of lipstick?

The realization that should have calmed him down instead sent him spiraling. Martin Blackwood wasn’t always the calm one, but he was always the shoulder to lean on. He couldn’t do this, not have a breakdown in the middle of his workplace, not with—

Tapping came from the door outside. “Martin? Do I need to break the door down?” Jon was still outside, Martin realized with a start.

“Uh-” Martin choked back a sob. “No, no, it’s alright, Jon. I’m fine.”

“You certainly are not.”

“It was just a-a bloody lipstick tube, Jon, I’m alright. Just leave me alone.” Martin shuddered a breath as he swiped at his eyes with the hem of his sweater, praying to anything and everything that for once Jon would just do as he was told.

“No.” Of course not. “Not until I know you’re okay.” Jon’s voice was softer now, a part of Martin realized. The gentleness of his tone struck Martin and he found himself shakily standing and moving to the door. Unlocking and opening it, he saw Jon, leaning heavily on the medical cane he had been given after the incident, eyes a mix of panic and concern, like the way one might eye a wounded animal. Somehow, that look managed to make Martin feel small, protected, loved, and it warmed something in him.

It was that look that broke something in him and Martin felt a taut string inside him snap loose. Tears welled up in his eyes and he desperately swiped at them with the sleeves of his sweater, leaning against the doorframe. “I feel so stupid,” he mumbled, choked laughter mixing with his tears. He held up the lipstick tube, which he had pocketed earlier, and held it up to the light. “It doesn’t even look like them, not really, I-I-I just saw the squat and silver and panicked.”

Jon’s hand was on his arm, but he was quiet, not saying anything until Martin had collected himself, heaving sobs to hiccups to shallow breathing as he brought himself to baseline again. “Martin,” Jon said quietly, flexing the fingers that held his bicep, “I know you’ve had a rough few months.” Martin scoffed. “Fine, okay, maybe rough doesn’t begin to cover it. What I mean to say is, well…” Jon’s mouth floundered for a word properly, lips forming a few different shapes before settling on, “are you, you know, getting help?”

“Yes, Jon, I’m in therapy.” Martin surprised himself with his own honesty. “But there’s not really much I can say, you know? Not without getting carted off to a sanitorium or getting doped up on meds of some kind or another. I mean, evil worms haunting my house and my workplace? A worm woman determined to kill me and everyone I care for? Not exactly something cognitive behavior therapy will fix.”

Jon sighed in assent, nodding. “That’s fair, I suppose. I just-Martin.” The hand squeezed his elbow and Martin felt a jolt of electricity run through his skin. “You’re allowed to hurt, you know?” Martin’s eyes must have given away his thoughts because Jon continued, voice soft and gentle. 

“We all suffered, Martin, but you were the one who was locked in your home, and then the basement where you work, for months on end. Just because you’re not-” he shifts to wave his cane idly, “-doesn’t mean you haven’t gone through hell alongside us.” Jon’s voice has taken on a hardness to it, an insistence Martin last remembered seeing when they were locked in Document Storage together, when Jon was so afraid of being forgotten. It made Martin shiver, not from fear but from something in the way Jon’s eyes bored into him. He was determined to make Martin believe him. Who was he to refuse The Archivist’s words?

So Martin listened, letting Jon’s insistence settle in his chest. He had suffered; he had lost months of his life to Jane Prentiss, he couldn’t sleep without a fear of worms crawling into his skin and mouth at night. He didn’t feel safe until he was in the Archives at his desk, the one that surveyed the whole room and had two fire extinguishers still tucked into the drawers. As Jon spoke, Martin let his muscles relax slowly, until he was leaned up against the alcove in which the door to the toilets stood, helpless under Jon’s gaze and yet feeling the strongest he had in weeks, if not months. Tears welled in his eyes and he heard Jon hesitantly break off. 

“Ah-Martin? You-ah shit, I’m sorry.” Jon’s voice had lost the severity it had previously held and was back to its quiet insistence. “I’m sorry, you-you didn’t ask for a soapbox.”

“No, no,” Martin shook his head, raking his nails through his hair. “I...I think I needed to hear that.” He smiled; a shaky, fragile thing. He scratched the back of his calf awkwardly, trying not to dislodge Jon from where he was precariously balanced between the hand on his arm and the hand on the cane. “Thank you, Jon, really.” 

Jon smiled and shifted his hand from Martin’s arm to his hand, squeezing gently before releasing it and sliding the lipstick tube from his hand before turning to the bullpen. “Anytime. C’mon, let’s see if this is Sasha’s or Tim’s. I think it’s more Tim’s color, hmm?” 

[electrictoes]

All We Are

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 4:  “What is this between us?  Relationship: Amanda Rollins  / Sonny Carisi​

Read on AO3

They don’t define this thing between them - it just is.

After a week, Sonny thinks maybe they should - but he’s so happy, and he doesn’t want to break this calm comfort they’ve found in each other by putting labels on things that have never needed to be labelled before.

Everyone around them is so curious though; other people want it defined. And it shouldn’t matter - shouldn’t be anyone’s business but their own. But it isn’t that simple. Their friends and family make no secret of the fact that they've been waiting for this almost as long as he has.

He skipped out on most of Memorial Day weekend with his family for the first time in his life - only putting in an appearance in his parents’ backyard late on Monday afternoon, a white lie on his lips; that he’s been stuck at work - a lie his mother sees through in an instant.

He can’t stop checking his phone; types and deletes a message to Amanda - an I miss you that he can’t bring himself to send, because it’s so ridiculous. He sends her a photo of the backyard filled with family instead, and smiles down at his phone when she sends him a photo back - the girls at the park, ice cream cones in their hands, sprinkles and chocolate sauce already trailing down Billie’s arm.

He tries to duck out of sight to call her a little later, but his mother catches him as he creeps up the stairs to his childhood bedroom; she stands at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, a scolding frown on her face - he hears the Dominick before she says it, and slinks back down to the hallway without a word, thinking about how he’s a prosecutor and he faces tougher opponents than his mother on a daily basis, but no one can reduce him to his thirteen year old self like she can.

His mom doesn’t let him slip back out to the party, her grip on his arm is firm as she tugs him into the kitchen, “Alright, out with it,” she says and he feigns confusion.

“I don’t-”

“It’s either a girl, or it’s something bad,” she says, arms crossed over her chest, a shadow of worry on her face. “And your sister told me you broke up with-”

Sonny sighs, resisting the urge to fold his own arms. He hadn’t actually told Bella that at all, just relayed one of the many arguments he and Nicole had had before they’d called it quits, but he wasn’t surprised that she’d drawn her own conclusions. “Bella needs to stop gossipin’ about me.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothin’ to-”  His mother fixes him with a look that would have had him running to his bedroom as a kid; he resists the urge to bolt now. “It’s new,” he says, and because his mom doesn’t so much as blink, he adds. “Rollins.”

There’s a part of him that’s almost giddy at the way she reacts - the way her posture softens and she smiles up at him. He enjoys it for half a second before the questions start coming in thick and fast - he deflects, but she ploughs on.

“So the two of you are-”

“Figuring that out,” he says. He listens to her as she talks about not wasting time, tells him he’s not getting any younger, reminds him his grandmother’s engagement ring is still sitting in her jewellery box upstairs just waiting for him to need it.

“Way too far ahead of yourself, Ma,” he says - too far ahead but still visible there on the horizon.

The closest they come to having the what is this? conversation in those early days is the is this a secret? conversation.

“I don’t want it to be,” Sonny admits, “But if you wanna wait until-”

“Until what?” Amanda asks him, “I’m sure,” she says. “If you are.”

They’re on the couch, the girls fast asleep down the hall and her feet resting in his lap; it’s casual and domestic and not really all that different from the way things have always been, but he lets himself take it in, appreciate the way his world is changing. He rests his hands on her shins as he smiles over at her, “I’m sure,” he says. And that’s it.

Everything left unsaid passes between them in looks, kisses, and touches. They don’t need more.

They don’t advertise it; there’s a time when they’ll have to - disclosure paperwork and conversations about professionalism and objectivity as though they haven’t been managing just fine up until now. But Sonny’s diligent - he’s checked the paperwork - he might have checked the paperwork over a year ago, when she’d left him at his desk with a sad smile and he’d spent the next forty-eight hours kicking himself, only for a global pandemic to stop him calling in that rain check  - and he knows they have time.

They do arrive at the precinct together one Tuesday morning a couple of weeks in; he has a meeting scheduled with Liv first thing and he hasn’t been back to his own apartment in three days. They’re not so blatant as to hold hands, but they do work with some of the best detectives in the city, so it isn’t a surprise that they’re caught out within minutes.

Fin gives them look, but he doesn’t say anything. Sonny’s sure he’ll get a comment in at some point, but while everyone knows Fin enjoys a gossip way more than he lets on, he’s good at keeping his questions to himself until the moment that best suits him.

Kat doesn’t follow suit. She’s nothing but questions and Sonny tries to escape under the guise of waiting for the captain in her office, but Amanda grips his jacket sleeve, silently telling him not leave her.

“How long?” Kat asks, “And what exactly-”

“Our business,” Amanda says; she’s smiling at Kat, no malice in her tone, but no room for argument either.

Jesse get a pass. Because she’s Jesse. And because this affects her just as much as it does Sonny and Amanda. For the first two weeks of waking up to Uncle Sonny sleeping in Mommy’s bed she doesn’t ask any questions - it surprises him, because that first morning waking up beside Amanda his second thought had been that they would have to figure out how to explain his presence there to Jesse and Billie. When Jesse had raced into Amanda's bedroom, though, she had just greeted him like she was used to him being there, and he’d wondered if they’d ever actually need to sit them down and explain.

Eventually she does ask, one night after he’s tucked Billie into bed with a kiss so it’s just the three of them awake. He leans in the bathroom doorway while Amanda gives Jesse her bath. She’s been unusually quiet, and there’s a thoughtful look on her face, “Mommy,” she says after a while, blinking water out of her eyes as Amanda washes her hair, “Is Uncle Sonny your husband now?”

Amanda coughs as though she’s the one with a face full of water, turning to look at Sonny with a startled expression. He gives her a soft smile, but he doesn’t have the answers either.

“Not yet, baby,” she says, and Sonny can’t help the grin that comes over his face, however wide Amanda’s eyes go at her own words.

“You’ve gotta have a weddin’ first,” Sonny adds, and Jesse beams over at him; he sees a dozen questions forming, but Amanda pours more water over her head, rinsing out the shampoo and buying them more time in the same moment.

Once she’s out of the bath, dressed in her pyjamas and ready for bed, Jesse throws her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly, “I’m glad you’re gonna have a wedding with Mommy,” she says, and tips her head back for a goodnight kiss before skipping to her bedroom as though she hadn’t essentially just told him to get on with proposing to her mother.

Amanda’s mother shows up unannounced at her apartment one Sunday morning, and it’s Sonny who answers the door - not expecting Beth Anne Rollins to be standing in the hallway, an impatient look on her face. “Oh,” is all she says when she clocks sight of him, her gaze travelling down the worn t-shirt and pyjama pants he’s wearing, his bare feet on the wooden floor. She pushes past him into the apartment, not greeting him or stopping for breath, “What are you doing here? Amanda finally admit she’s got a thing for you?”

He closes the door behind her and follows, not answering her questions. Billie scrambles down from the dining table to run and hug her grandmother, abandoning the cereal he’s spent the last ten minutes trying to coax her into eating, while she’d stubbornly refused and told him she wanted garlic bread for breakfast.

“Where is Amanda anyway?” Beth Anne asks, turning to look at him again. He feels self-conscious with her gaze on him, the soft clothes, untamed hair, shoeless Sonny Carisi was reserved for Amanda - and by extension the girls - certainly not for his possible future mother-in-law.

“Takin’ Frannie for a walk,” he says, “Jesse’s gone too,” he adds unnecessarily.

Beth Anne nods, still eyeing him with suspicion as she reaches into her handbag and pulls out a lollipop for Billie, who grabs at it gleefully.

“No-” he starts, but Beth Anne is already unwrapping the treat, and he sighs as Billie puts it in her mouth. “She hasn’t finished her breakfast,” he sighs.

“And who says you get to tell me what my granddaughter can eat?” Beth Anne says, smiling indulgently at Billie.

Sonny shakes his head, “I’m gonna… if you’re here I’m gonna get dressed,” he slips away to the bedroom, taking jeans and a shirt from the drawer he now has in Amanda’s dresser. While he changes he hears the sounds of Amanda’s return - Frannie barking, Jesse yelling a greeting to her grandmother. He hears murmuring as Amanda questions Beth Anne’s impromptu visit, and when he returns Amanda and her mother are at opposite ends of the kitchen, Amanda leaning back against the counter with an unimpressed look on her face.

“And then he tries to tell me not to give Billie candy-”

Amanda shakes her head, “He's right. It’s barely 9am, Momma.”

“Well, is he your boyfriend now or not?”

“Momma,” Amanda starts, but cuts herself off when she spots him hovering just beyond the kitchen, she gives him a warm smile, “We’re together, that’s all that matters,” she says, meeting his eye - all she feels and all that goes unsaid held in her gaze for him to see.

They fill in the disclosure paperwork that evening; they don’t have to just yet; they’ve still got time, Sonny’s been keeping the deadline in his head, but Amanda leaves him on the couch and goes out into the entryway where her work bag is; she returns a moment later, a manila folder in her hands that she passes over to him as she sits down. The form inside is mostly filled out - all their basic information already there in Amanda’s handwriting, the only empty boxes are Date of Disclosure, and Nature of Relationship.

“Time to make it official?” he asks, and she pokes his arm gently.

“It’s already official, Carisi,” she says, “Unless you’re thinking otherwise.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head at her, “You got a pen?”

“We’ve got to decide what to write in that box,” she tells him tapping the Nature of Relationship box with the pen she’s just grabbed. “Whatever we’re calling this,” she gestures between the two of them.

“According to Jesse, I’m your future husband,” he says, only half-joking.

Amanda just laughs at him, “I think you’d need to write fiancé,” she says, “But you’re not getting off that lightly - you need to propose to me yourself,” she tells him; she glances away as she adds, “Not yet, though.”

Someday, he thinks, leaning over, a hand reaching for her face, turning her back towards him so that he can kiss her; she lets him, kissing him right back for a minute or so before she puts one palm to his chest, pushing him back from her, “Carisi, let’s finish this first.”

He sighs as he pulls away, but it’s worth it not to have missed the impatient smirk on her face.

“I got it,” he tells her, resting the sheet of paper on his knee as he adds one word to the empty box. Partners.

[st4rlabsforever]

plant dads sam and bucky fic that absolutely no one asked for. you can read this as a one-shot but it’s part of a longer thing i’ll post on ao3 only when it’s complete. if you’re curious, this is what the pothos (heart-shaped leaves) looks like. the other plant is a crimson queen hoya. reposting for the evening crowd :)

It starts with a couple of houseplants in the corner of his living room. Sam doesn’t even notice them at first, nondescript as they are, hanging from one of the windows behind his couch. One of them has long, heart-shaped leaves with splashes of white over them while the other has waxy green leaves with white accents around the edges.

Huh.

He doesn’t think much of it initially – assumes Sarah wanted to liven up the space – but then he finds Bucky honest-to-god humming to himself one morning while tending to the plants with a bright blue watering can.

“So you’re a horticulturist now, huh?” Sam asks.

Bucky turns around with a little ‘oh’ under his breath and sleep still weighing heavy on his eyes. Sam tries not to pay attention to how cute he looks with his hair all sleep-tousled and unkempt.

“I like ‘em,” Bucky says softly. “Sarah said I could set up by the windows.”

“This a new thing?” Sam asks, feeling the heart-shaped leaves between the pads of his fingers. The plants are honestly a nice touch. “I didn’t know you were into houseplants.”

Bucky shrugs. “I had a lot of time in Wakanda. New hobbies, you know? Didn’t have much time in New York, but I figured now’s as good a time as any.”

There’s no trace of a frown or scowl or glare in the lines of Bucky’s face. This, combined with how soft he looks in his sweats and ratty t-shirt, makes it impossible to ignore just how young and unguarded Bucky is here. In Louisiana. In Sam’s home. It’s hard for Sam not to be struck by the domesticity of it all.

The thing is, though, that it’s such a far cry from normal that Sam’s really not sure how to process it. On the surface, he’s glad Bucky’s managed to carve out a slice of happiness for himself – the guy deserves it after all he’s been through. It’s just that this burgeoning friendship with Bucky is another thing to add to the list of sudden changes in his life that threatens to wash over him like a yawning tide.

And it’s taken Sam a minute to realize it, but he’s not the kind of person who necessarily does well with change. He’d been running through the motions after he’d lost Riley. Sure, he’d rolled with the punches just fine when Steve had come calling for help, running from HYDRA, then the U.S. government, even fighting for the fate of the universe, but he’d just been trading one problem for another. The Paul & Darlene for his wings, the failing family business for his fugitive status, not to mention his deteriorating relationship with Sarah and the boys for an intergalactic war with Thanos.

Nothing had been easy once he’d settled back down in Delacroix, but they’d been steady, is the thing. He’d had his contract with the Air Force and he’d known what he’d had to do to get the business back on its feet. It’d been a shitty hand he and Sarah had been dealt – had been for as long as they’d been alive – but Sam had been present. Finally with the resolve to deal with his issues head-on and prove to Sarah that he wouldn’t be disappearing again.

And then Germany happened. Madripoor, Riga, New York.

In the heat of battle, with the adrenaline pumping and the cameras rolling, it’d been easy to step fully into the title that came with the shield. Afterwards, though? When the celebrations are over and the high wears off, he’s left feeling jittery and uncertain. It’s not only the gaze of an entire country bearing down upon him, but the fear that he’s falling into old ways again. That whatever the stars and stripes have on the horizon for him will break this tenuous peace he finally has in Delacroix.

It occurs to him that maybe he deserves to have his cake and eat it, too. Just this once. He wonders what happiness would look like. How it would feel to successfully juggle his duties as Captain America with his commitments to his community and family. Maybe even start a family of his own one day.

And of course, there’s Bucky. Their friendship is undeniably different after the trials of the past month – the good kind of different. Yet it’s something precious that Sam can privately admit to himself he doesn’t want to lose, and in that sense it’s just another new thing he’s got to learn to navigate around.

For now, though, he can enjoy this quiet moment with Bucky when there’s no one but family around to scrutinize their every movement.

“You know,” Sam says lightly, “I’ve always wanted some houseplants. Seemed like the adult thing to do.” It’d never been possible before, what with him running from war to battle to catastrophe, but maybe now is as good a time as any for a fresh start.

Bucky’s eyes light up like a pair of firecrackers, bright and eager and excited, and it leaves Sam reeling in the humanity of it. He’s not sure there’s anyone alive right now who’s ever seen Bucky like this.

“Here,” Bucky says, pulling a pair of small garden shears out of God knows where and beginning to cut up a vine on the heart-shaped plant. “This one’s called a pothos. Marble queen pothos.”

He holds up one of the cuttings for Sam to inspect. “See the little green nub on the stem?”

Sam dutifully moves in closer for a better look.

“That’s a node. As long as you’ve got one of ‘em on a cutting, it’ll grow a brand new plant from there.”

“Huh. That’s neat.”

“The white marbling is actually a genetic mutation,” Bucky continues. His voice is raspy from sleep, and him being a geek about plants of all things shouldn’t be so endearing, but it is. “So you need to have the white streaks over the node if you want the marbling to continue.”

“What’re these little growths next to the node?” Sam asks.

“Oh,” Bucky says with a little huff of excitement. “Those are aerial roots. In the wild, the plants use ‘em to anchor to trees and grow above the tree cover, but in soil they’ll just become the new root system for the cutting.”

“Man, what the hell,” Sam says, laughing.

“What?”

“How is this the first I’m learning of your green thumb?”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me,” Bucky says, but there’s no heat behind it. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve had time for hobbies since getting de-iced.”

Sam snorts. That was the truth, wasn’t it?

“Can you get the potting mix?” Bucky asks. “I put it in the storage closet.”

He’s already puttering around with an old takeout container while Sam heads over to get the soil. It should probably be a little more jarring to Sam that Bucky’s only been here for a week and he’s already populated the little closet with an array of gardening tools. There’s the bag of potting mix, a sack of dusty white pebbles labeled ‘horticultural perlite’, more pruning shears, and a large assortment of plastic and clay pots. When had Bucky even had the time to get all of this?

He returns with the mix and wordlessly passes it to Bucky, who fills in the plastic container with the soil, sticks the little cuttings right in, and hands the whole thing over to Sam.

“It’s yours,” Bucky says with an air of satisfaction. “Once the cuttings begin to root, they’ll grow new leaves. You just gotta keep the soil moist for the first couple of weeks.”

“You know I don't know the first thing about plants, right?” Sam says, amused.

“That’s what you’ve got me for.” Bucky flashes him a blinding grin. It’s the kind of declaration that should feel more significant than it actually does in the moment.

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you’ve got south-facing windows, more like. Can’t really get this in New York without all the high rises blocking out the sun.”

Right. Sam enjoys city life as much as the next guy, but nothing beats the full warmth of the Louisiana sun.

“I’d water them every other day to start, and we can adjust from there,” Bucky says, nodding at the new plant in Sam’s hands.

We. Sam can’t say he’s as enthusiastic as Bucky about growing houseplants from scratch, but he does like the idea of the two of them having a project that’s just for them. And there’s something just a little poetic about spawning new life from practically nothing. A new beginning to go along with their new friendship – this new chapter of both of their lives. Sam could get behind that. He sets a reminder on his phone so he doesn’t forget to water the pothos.

[eminems-skittles]

target run [ bau family au]

bau family au  warnings: none word count: 1.7k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

"Do you guys remember what I said?" David said, his eyes moving up to the rear view mirror to look at the five kids in the backseats.

"No messing around," Six voices droned in unison.

"Perfect," Rossi said smiling as he pulled into a parking spot.

"Do we have to all stick together?" Aaron asked from the passenger seat. His earbuds, hanging out of the collar of his shirt, played a vaguely familiar rap song that David could just barely hear.

"No but someone does have to stay with your little brother," David said, earning a groan from the seat behind Aaron.

"But dad," Spencer whined, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm almost nine years old. I can go off by myself."

"Says the kid sitting in the booster seat," Derek mumbled, earning a smack on the arm from Penelope and a giggle from Emily. JJ shook her head disapprovingly but there was a trace of a smile at her brother's antics.

"Spence, wanna come look at the toys with me?" Penelope asked, leaning across Derek so she could see Spencer. The question cause Spencer's face to light up and he nodded excitedly.

"Alright, let's go," David said, getting out of the car. Aaron and Emily were next out.

"Aaron?" Spencer called for his big brother.

"What is it buddy?" Aaron asked, pulling his head phone out of his ear.

"Can you give me a piggyback?" Spencer asked while unbuckling his seatbelt.

Without saying anything, Aaron turned around and crouched down. Spencer threw his arms around his big brother's shoulders and jumped up slightly. His tiny hands clutched the black and white flannel that Aaron was wearing. Aaron laughed and held onto the little boy's legs.

"Hey! I never get piggybacks!" Penelope complained.

"He's my favorite," was all Aaron said as he walked toward the store. The rest of the kids followed suit and branched off to go off on their own. Penelope walked next to Aaron and Spencer, talking animatedly about the newest episode of the anime her and Spencer were watching. When the trio got to the toy section, Aaron set Spencer on the ground and started to walk away. Before he got too far he turned around facing Penelope and Spencer, laughing at the contrast of their appearances. Penelope was dressed in what Aaron swore was all JoJo Siwa merch, although whenever he mentioned it to Penelope she'd deny it profusely. As if they planned to be polar opposites, Spencer was wearing a grey sweater vest he had gotten for Christmas with a blue long sleeve underneath it and khaki pants that were a little too big for him. The only pop of color Spencer was wearing were the beat up pair of purple Chucks he wore every day. "Don't get into too much trouble and remember-"

"If we see you, no we don't," Spencer finished, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. Aaron smiled back before spinning on his heel, popping his earbud back into his ear.

"Where do you think Derek went?" Penelope asked, her eyes trained on a lego set.

"Probably to the sports section or he's following Dad around," Spencer replied. "Why?"

"I still have to get him a birthday present. Do you think he'd like this?" Penelope held up a box of legos for Spencer to look at.

"He hasn't opened the set you and JJ got him for Christmas," Spencer said, shaking his head, a pout forming on his face. "He won't let me play with them."

"I'll just get him a sticker or something," Penelope sighed defeated. "Do you think Dad will let us get a toy?"

"I dunno," Spencer shrugged.

——–

"I'm telling you, Em, she's out to get me," JJ complained as they milled around the junior section.

"Strauss isn't out to get you," Emily said, holding up a top for JJ. JJ cringed at it, shaking her head.

"Yes she is! Last week, I labelled my paper Unit One instead of the actual unit name and she gave me an F on the assignment even though I got all of the questions right," JJ groaned.

"That's probably Aaron and I's fault," Emily stated. "At least you don't have Mrs. Barnes. She hates me so much. Probably because she had Aaron last year and I'm nothing like him."

"You mean you're not a quiet straight A student?" JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Can we go over to the sports aisle? I need to get a new ball since Will kicked mine onto the roof of the gym during practice yesterday."

"I still think he likes you," Emily teased, nudging her shoulder as they walked towards the sports gear.

"No he doesn't," JJ blushed.

"Oh my god! You like him too!" Emily said, poking her sister's cheek. JJ swatted her hand away, her eyes staring widely at Emily.

"Can you please be quiet?!" JJ asked, frantically looking around to make sure no one heard. She stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on her brother just a few aisles away from them. "Hey, who's Aaron talking to?"

——–

"Derek, why don't you go find your brother?" David asked as Derek threw random snacks into the cart. "I can do this myself."

"If you say so," Derek said laughing. "See ya later, pops!"

Derek ran down the aisle toward the toys to find Spencer and Penelope, his shoes squeaking every now and then. When he saw they weren't at the toy section, he ran through the whole store looking for them. Eventually, he found them near the sports aisle, huddled close together with JJ and Emily. He quietly walked up to them, careful not to make any noise.

"What are you guys doing?" He asked causing his brother and sisters to jump and turn to face him. Emily pulled his arm down so he was level with all of them. "What are we looking at?"

"Aaron has been talking to this girl for like fifteen minutes," Emily explained, her voice hushed. She pointed to where Aaron and the mystery girl were standing. She had short blonde hair and was wearing high waisted mom jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Who is she?" Derek questioned.

"Her name is Haley. Haley Brooks. She's the reason Aaron auditioned for the play," JJ whispered.

"We should go say hi," Penelope stood up, beginning to walk over to her older brother. Before she could get even half a step away, she was being dragged back to her spot.

"Absolutely not, Pen. Aaron can't know we saw him," JJ whisper-yelled.

"Why not?" Spencer asked, pulling on JJ's sleeve.

"Because he really likes her so we aren't going to ruin it," JJ said, looking down at her younger brother.

"Speak for yourself," was all Emily said before she stood up and walked over to Aaron and Haley.

"Hey Em!" Haley greeted. Emily winced at the nickname. Only her siblings could call her Em.

"Hey...Hal," Emily said, forcing a smile on her face.

"Why is she smiling like that?" Penelope whispered from where they stood.

"She's not Haley's biggest fan," JJ whispered. "Now, shush. I'm trying to listen."

"What's up, Emily?" Aaron asked, an annoyed smile settling on his face. Emily turned to face Aaron, her back completely to Haley.

"Spencer's looking for you. He needs help getting something. Says you know where it is," Emily lied.

"No I do-" Spencer was cut off by JJ shushing him.

"Okay, I'll be right there. I'm sorry Haley, but I gotta go help him," Aaron apologized.

"I can come with if you-"

"He can do it by himself," Emily cut her off before walking away.

"I'll see you at rehearsal," Aaron said to Haley before following Emily to where everyone else was waiting eagerly. "What do you need help with, buddy?"

"I don't need help," Spencer stated as if it was obvious.

"Then why did Emily practically drag me away from Haley?" Aaron questioned, turning to glare at his twin sister.

Deciding to not answer with 'because I hate your girlfriend,' Emily went with a much more logical approach. "Would you rather have us drag you away from your girlfriend or Dad?"

"Fair point," Aaron said with a smile.

The group of six wandered aimlessly around the store, having at least ten different conversations. They looped back to the front so they could grab a cart to fill with things they know Rossi would never let them get. Aaron and JJ, the responsible ones, were in charge of pushing the cart while everyone else threw random things into it.

"Emily tells me it's your fault Mrs. Strauss hates me," JJ says casually to Aaron.

"Uhh, maybe?"

"Great," JJ said rolling her eyes. "Hey, Spencer! Put that down!"

Spencer sighed, setting down the large glass ball he was about to throw at Derek. He looked at JJ and mumbled, "You're no fun."

"I could've caught it!" Derek muttered.

"Derek Morgan Rossi!" JJ exclaimed exasperatedly. "You are the older one, you know better than to egg him on."

"JJ, why don't you leave the parenting to me?" A voice said from behind them. They all turned around to find David standing with an almost full cart, an amused smile on his face. "But seriously, Derek, Spencer, you guys should listen to your sister."

"See!" JJ shouted, earning a few curious looks from other customers.

"What do you guys have there?" David asked, looking into the cart.

"Just some random things," Emily replied, tossing a tube of mascara into the cart.

"Okay, well let's go checkout," David said, before walking away.

"Wait, Dad!" Aaron said causing David to turn around. "Shouldn't we put this stuff away?"

"If you guys want it, you can get all of it," David said before turning back around and continuing his journey to the checkout. The six children shared looks of disbelief before following their dad.

After checking out, pushing three carts of bags (they had to get a third after they paid) and stuffing the car full of their goodies, they were on the way back to their house. The car was filled with excited chatter, everyone discussing the stuff they got.

"I have a question," Rossi said, grabbing the children's attention. "Who's Haley?"

[phantom-curve]

49 or 50 for willex, and au of your choosing!

“Also happy second birthday!! Hope you have a wonderful day”

Thank you! This was an absolute joy to write so I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it! From the gimme a chance AU (which I guess now officially has spin-off lore about Willex) I give you Alex and Willie’s first date.

#49: holding onto the other’s shoulders for support & #50: putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up 

When Willie had asked Alex if he wanted to go on a date to the art museum, Alex couldn’t help but picture something cute and romantic. The two of them wandering around bright, airy rooms with the sunshine streaming in, bathing them in an ethereal kind of glow. Long moments standing in front of different paintings, fingertips brushing as they exchanged meaningful side long glances with one another. Maybe they would even kiss. Alex had been nearly breathless with the thought. Which was why he said yes without hesitation.

Willie looked like an absolute dream when Alex first caught sight of him outside of the museum, his long hair fluttering in the breeze behind him under his helmet, the loose, slightly cropped t-shirt he wore rising up every now and then to reveal tantalizing glimpses at tanned skin and toned abs. He came to a graceful stop on his skateboard right in front of Alex, grinning from ear to ear as he raised his eyebrows up and down teasingly.

“Didn’t run ya over this time. This date is already going better than our first meeting.”

Alex couldn’t stop the slightly high-pitched embarrassed laugh that slipped through his lips. Willie’s cheeks stretched impossibly wider, and Alex felt his own cheeks warm.

“I didn’t really mind so much.”

Willie smirked like he thought Alex was lying, which, fair. Alex had been pissed when Willie had crashed into him, ready to absolutely lose it on whatever dumbass had knocked him down and then had the audacity to complain about his stupid fucking skateboard. But then Willie had been scrambling to apologize, his brown hair tumbling down from his helmet in a mesmerizing cascade, and Alex had forgotten about his injuries completely because he was entirely focused on remembering how to breathe and getting his brain to restart. And then Willie had asked him out and it became the best day of Alex’s life. So, in the end, he didn’t really mind.

“C’mon, I got us tickets already.”

Willie tucked his skateboard under one arm and held his other hand out like he was offering it to Alex. Which, he was, Alex realized after a long second. He felt the blush paint his cheeks again and rushed to pull his hand from his pocket so he could place it in Willie’s. Willie didn’t say anything, but Alex caught the way his lips curved a bit on the edges, like he was holding back a smile.

Willie, it turned out, had an extensive understanding of almost everything art related. He named off artists without having to read the little cards by their work and talked about different periods of art styles and the evolution of art as it related to history, explaining how the two were inextricably linked which wasn’t something Alex had ever really thought about before, but was fascinating, nonetheless. Alex let himself be led around, impressed and in complete awe as Willie pointed out his favorite pieces and waxed poetic about Jean-Michel Basquiat, who Alex had learned was his favorite artist. It was everything Alex had hoped for in a date, especially when Willie led him down a set of stairs and into a basement gallery that was practically deserted.

There were large abstract sculptures throughout the room, concrete benches spaced out along the wall. Willie walked over to one and sprawled out, Alex sitting down next to him in a bit more conservative manner.

“Man, I wish they had let me bring my board in. How dope would it be to skate through this place?”

He traced his fingers through the air like he was mentally mapping out exactly how he would maneuver around all the obstacles. Alex laughed.

“I’d be way too worried about running into a priceless piece of art and ruining it.”

Alex shuddered as he thought about how awful it would be to destroy someone’s artistic creation. He still remembered how heartbroken Luke had been their senior year of high school when their former bandmate Bobby had stolen his songs and sold them to a record label on a solo contract. The pain had been unbearable, and Alex hadn’t even been the one dealing with the brunt of the hurt. Something must have changed on his face because Willie leaned over to nudge him softly with his knee. Alex blinked, startled back into the present and looked into the warmest pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“You’re wound a little tight, huh? Where’d you go just then?”

Usually, Alex didn’t really open up to people. He’d learned from a young age that emotions were best kept in a bottle locked in a safe shoved into the farthest reaches of his brain. Alex and Reggie had unpacked some of that throughout the years, slowly gaining his trust and teaching him that it was okay to express himself. But Alex never really let other people in like his boys. Except, there was something about Willie, some innate goodness in him, that made Alex feel safe and calm and like maybe it was okay to let him in, too.

So, he did. He talked about Bobby, and then that spiraled into talking about the band and his homophobic parents and their silent rejection that stung all the more because it was like they weren’t even mad, they just decided that he suddenly no longer existed. Willie didn’t interrupt or judge. And when Alex had finally exhausted himself and felt a little less bogged down by it all, Willie reached over and placed his hand on Alex’s knee, skin to skin through the hole in his jeans.

“That sucks, man. I’m glad you’ve got a better family with your friends now. Luke and Reggie, right? So, you all moved down here from San Fran together?”

Alex had mentioned that when they first met. It shouldn’t be a big deal, the fact that Willie remembered and had clearly actually been listening to the things Alex had said then and now, but he was so used to not being heard that it felt monumental. His lips curved into a small smile.

“Yeah. They’re my best friends. Luke swears someday our band will take off now that we’re in LA, but I’m just happy I get to be here with them, living in a house that doesn’t feel so unwelcoming all the time and whaling on some drums whenever I need to.”

“I’m happy you’re here, too.”

The way he said it, with a little smirk and some bouncy eyebrows, Alex knew Willie meant more than just being in LA. He meant here in this museum, with him. Suddenly, Willie jumped to his feet, holding both hands out towards Alex.

“I think I know something else that might help you loosen up. Wanna give it a try?”

Alex was pretty sure he was willing to give anything a try if Willie asked him to. He slipped his hands into Willie’s and only stumbled slightly when he was pulled to his feet. Willie let go so he could catch Alex by his shoulders, their faces so close Alex could count every one of his eyelashes. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, something crackling in the space between them. And then, Willie threw his head back and yelled.

Alex jumped about 10 feet in the air and immediately slapped a hand over Willie’s mouth, muffling the sound of the other boy’s voice. He whipped his head back and forth, thankful that there wasn’t another museum patron around or worse, a security guard.

“What the hell was that for?!” He whisper-yelled, feeling the need to compensate for Willie’s vocal volume by lowering his own.

Willie laughed, his lips moving under Alex’s palm. Alex let his hand drop, not wanting to think too long about Willie’s lips touching his skin.

“It’s stress release!”

Alex raised a judgmental brow.

“Yelling in a museum is stress release?”

“Yeah, man,” Willie was still laughing, his smile easy and eyes sparkling. “There’s something about letting everything out all at once, especially in a place where it feels like you shouldn’t. C’mon, you said you would give it a try.”

Alex glanced around the gallery again. They were alone, and he had said he would try it. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Willie grinned and nodded encouragingly, so Alex inhaled again and tried to copy him.

“Ahhhhh!”

It was pretty pitiful in comparison. Willie doubled over with laughter for a moment, but when he straightened his smile was patient and kind.

“Nah, dude. You gotta mean it. Here, we can do it together.”

He stepped close, the tips of his shoes touching Alex’s, hands fisting into the shoulders of Alex’s favorite pink hoodie. He looked down at where Alex’s arms were dangling limply at his side and cocked his head, so Alex grabbed onto Willie’s shoulders as well. He felt Willie lean against him, letting Alex support some of his weight, and did the same. It weirdly felt almost like a hug, the way they were each clinging onto each other, trusting the other one to hold them up. Alex copied Willie when he sucked in a deep breath, but this time, instead of lifting his head towards the ceiling, Willie maintained eye contact. That same tension from earlier pulled taught between them. The moment built until all the sudden Alex felt a huge rush of emotion and opened his mouth at the exact same time as Willie, their voices overlapping and blending together in one loud, messy shout.

The resulting rush was incredible. Alex understood immediately what Willie had meant. He let out a laugh, absolutely delighted, and yelled again. Willie yelled back, and Alex felt like his head was spinning, drunk on adrenaline and release and Willie himself. He opened his mouth to yell again when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Willie glanced over his shoulder towards the doorway they had come through and then he grabbed Alex’s hand without hesitation, giggling as he pulled him through the room and out a second doorway at the back of the space before they could get caught. They raced up a different set of stairs, only slowing to a walk as they reentered the main level gallery space. Alex was breathless and giddy, the feeling of Willie’s hand in his making him feel brave and reckless. When they finally came to a stop in a hallway between the main gallery and a doorway to the outdoor sculpture park, he used their joined hands to pull Willie close.

“You are insane, and I cannot believe I let you talk me into that.”

His words were too soft to be a real admonishment. Willie leaned in, his hips brushing against Alex’s and the feeling was overwhelming. Without letting himself think about it, Alex reached up to move a few errant strands of hair out of Willie’s face, letting one hand rest against his jaw and bringing the other around his neck so he could tilt his face up. Willie’s eyes were shining, gaze dropping to Alex’s lips as the tip of his tongue peeked out to wet his own. It was all the invitation Alex needed.

He swooped down, Willie stretching on his toes to meet him halfway, arms sliding around his waist and pulling their bodies close. Alex’s mind went blissfully blank, focusing on nothing but the taste of cherry Chapstick on his tongue and the feeling of silky hair slipping through his fingers. Willie made a little noise in the back of his throat and Alex pulled back slightly, feeling shy and nervous. Their foreheads were still touching, breaths comingling in the tiny space between them. Willie leaned in to press a soft kiss against Alex’s cheek, leaving a burning mark behind as he moved so his lips grazed Alex’s ear.

“Totally worth it.”

He pulled away with a satisfied grin, dropping his heels as Alex felt himself blush from head to toe. Willie laced their fingers together and started to retrace their steps back towards the front of the museum, pulling a dazed Alex along in his wake.

“Wanna go grab some food? There’s a pretty good hotdog stand around the corner we could hit up.”

That broke Alex out of his spell.

“Ugh, no. Literally anything but hotdogs, please.”

He shivered, his stomach clenching like it still remembered the time Luke had convinced them they could totally trust the dude selling food out of the trunk of his car at next to a venue they were playing at. Willie laughed and quirked a brow.

“Sounds like you’ve got a story to tell, Hotdog. Let’s go.”

And Alex went, groaning the whole time about his new nickname but secretly loving the fact that Willie had given him one. Nicknames said familiarity, affection. Maybe by the end of their next date he could earn a different title: boyfriend.

[anjuschiffer]

Coming In For A Diagnosis and Leaving With A Date

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theatreandcomicfreak!!!! Sure, we’ve only known each other for a few months, but Mina! You’re so freaking amazing and I’m so glad to have met you!

So to celebrate, I wrote this for you! Enjoy it! And hope you have a wonderful day :D

------

He was here to help Damian on taking down a small-time criminal, so why were they having such a hard time taking him down?

“Damian, are you sure that-” Garfield started, only to get interrupted by his friend.

“I’m going to be fine. Go and rest. I’ll be sure to update you on-” Static filled their communication, Garfield already fearing the worst. 

“Damian.” No response. “Damian!” Garfield yelled out, quickly coming to a halt, bearing the slight burn he got from the roof asphalt. Who cares if he was bleeding from his arm. Who cares if he couldn’t retain his form for any longer than five minutes. He had to go back! Damian was in danger-

“Well, look what we have here. A lost kitten.” Garfield quickly whipped his head to see Catwoman. Or Selina as Damian called her. Despite Selina and Bruce being together for several years, the two still wouldn’t get together, much to Damian’s annoyance. If you asked Garfield, Damian probably wanted her to officially be part of the family already, not that Damian already considered her as such.

“Please don’t do that.” Garfield said, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. All the hairs on his body relaxed, but his heart still raced quickly against his chest. “Do you know what’s going on?” Garfield watched as Selina hummed, looking over to where Damian was last heard from.

“He’s going to be fine, kid. He can handle this. And if anything, he’s got Bat out there as well.” She assured, looking at the gash across his arm. “You, on the other hand, won’t if you don’t get that treated.”

“I’m fine.” Garfield protested, wincing when Selina placed pressure on his wound.

“I beg to differ.” Selina said, quickly taking out her phone, a corner of her lips curving as she typed something, pocketing it away once she was down. “See that apartment over there?”

“Yeah?” Garfield looked over to where she was pointing, an apartment building just a block over. If Garfield squinted just a tiny bit, he was able to see a few plants sitting by the window ledge. “What about that-”

“Go there and wait inside.” Selina instructed, ushering him to go. “Someone will be there shortly to help you treat that wound of yours.” Garfield turned to go, but remained seated where he was. “I’ll make sure to update you on Damian’s whereabouts.”

Seeing as Selina wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Garfield made his way to the open apartment, carefully stepping over the plants, finding himself stepping onto a sofa. He promptly took off his shoes, not wanting to dirty the poor furniture anymore than what he had already done.

As he chose to sit, he took note of how organized -and white- the room was, the cabinets meticulously neat and labeled, his eyes widening when he saw the names on some of the glass jars. 

Naloxone, bacitracin, lidocaine… where did this person even get the first and last one?

As he tried to distract himself, Garfield thought it would be a good idea to look at the white board hung above one of the work stations, ignoring the various mortars filled with who-knows-what. 

He began to panic when he saw Damian’s medical records there, quickly running towards it to grab it, quickly turning page after page, panicking when he saw that this person also knew that Damian was Robin. 

Lifting his gaze from the papers, his eyes landed on the wall files, his eyes landing on the name Wayne. 

He began to rummage through, finding the rest of the Batfam’s identities, also finding other rogues' names in the other compartments. 

His heart stopped when he came across his own file, his name staring back at him in pink ink. 

Just as he was about to look at how much this person knew about him, the sound of keys jingling broke his determination. 

He quickly began to put the files back, making sure to place them in their proper slots, quickly hopping back into the sofa as he heard footsteps approach the room along with muffled talking. 

As soon as he managed to sit down and attempt to look normal, the door slid open. 

“-should have said no. Maybe I really am a pushover.” The person muttered, Garfield feeling his breath hitch. She was pretty. Very pretty.

The girl looked at him, gaping at his appearance before throwing her bag to the side and rushing out the room. 

Garfield felt hurt, wondering what she had thought when she saw him, only for it to all go away when she came back, gloves on and a first aid kit in hand. 

He thought she already looked pretty with her hair down, but she looked just as stunning with her hair tied into a loose bun. 

“How long have you been like this?” She asked, snapping Garfield from his trance.

“Half an hour?” Garfield tried to provide, watching as she cut off his sleeve, quick to start cleaning the outer rims of his wounds. 

“I’m guessing you were like this for a while before Miss Ky-Ca-” she started to fumble. 

“I know Miss Kyle is Catwoman. Don’t gotta worry about the whole ‘secret-identity’ thing with me.” Garfield said, watching the girl visibly relax, the girl going back to focusing on clearing the dry blood with a pair of tweezers and cotton swabs.

The two remained quiet, Garfield watching as she kept cleaning his wound, wincing when she started to add the stitches to his wound.

“Sorry.”

“You’re just doing your job.” Garfield had to bite his tongue to stop from hissing from the pain. “Actually, is this your job?”

“Kind of.” She replied, adding one last stitch. “I have experience on patching up small injuries and I used to study medicine under a mentor, but that was a while ago...” the girl trailed, Garfield picking up on how her mood quickly shifted. 

“Wow, these are the neatest stitches I’ve ever gotten! You have to be a pretty amazing sewer if they’re this neat. I bet you’d also be a pretty good designer!” Garfield praised, noticing a faint blush dust her face as she placed some ointment over the stitches. 

“Matter of fact, I am a designer.” The girl said, a soft smile now on her lips. “Miss Kyle commissioned me to make her a dress for the upcoming charity here in Gotham. Although, I ended up getting roped in some things I shouldn’t have.” 

“Accidentally found out her identity?” He watched the girl nod. 

“Yup. Well...that's a part of it.” She said, taking out some bandage. “And along the way I found out about her family’s, as you saw the files over there.”

“I-I didn’t see any files.“ He said, averting his eyes from her, feeling her gaze on him. “Okay. I did.” He admitted. “But why do you even have all of those medical records?”

“Curious, aren’t you?” Marinette purred, something inside of Garfield stirring. “Don’t blame you. It’s not everyday you find someone like me.”

“You mean a pretty girl like you?” Garfield teased, watching her almost drop the pair of scissors in her hand. “Which reminds me, what’s your name?”

“Wh-what? No!” Marinette squeaked out, trying her hardest to not wrap the bandage too tight. “I meant someone who helps vigilantes and heroes while being a civilian.” Garfield hummed at that, watching as she finished patching him up. “And Marinette. My name’s Marinette.” Marinette said, checking over her work. “And seems like you’re good to go.”

“That’s it?” Garfield said in a panic, not wanting to leave just yet. “Wow, didn’t think it’d be this fast.”

“Like I said,” Marinette said, pulling out Garfield’s file and jotting something down. “I have my share of experience when it comes to these types of things.” 

“Well then,” Garfield got up, one minute himself and the next as a cat on her desk, nudging her hand for some scratches. “Thank you very much.” 

He watched as red dusted her face again, giving him a few scritches under his chin, giggling when he let out a few purrs.

“Remember to come back tomorrow morning for the follow up.” Marinette reminded, watching as Garfield pounced to the window ledge, morphing back into his normal form. “Need to make sure it heals properly.”

“Will do doc!” Garfield said, stepping out into the fire escape, only to find Damian there. “Holy shi-” He was fine!

“What are you doing here?” Damian asked with a growl.

“Umm...getting my injuries checked?” Garfield defended, showing Damian his wrapped arm. “What about you?”

“Same thing.” Damian said as he motioned to his bruised face, quickly jumping into the window. Garfield quickly followed suit.

“Damian! Just look at you! What in kwami’s name were you up to?” Marinette scolded when she saw Damian, quickly going through her cabinets, grabbing different jars. “Oh! Hi Gar! Thought we agreed to see each other tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Damian asked, narrowing his eyes at Garfield, causing him to gulp. Why was he acting like this?

“A follow up Dami, no need to get so overprotective, geez.” Marinette clarified, making Damian face her. “If anything, I should be the overprotective one. I am older than you.” Garfield could only watch as the two bickered.

“By two years.” Damian stated, hissing when she placed an ice pack over his bruise. 

“Meaning I don’t need little brother dearest to be following me 24/7.” Marinette said with a hint of annoyance, lifting Damian’s face to get a better look at the cut under his chin. “Small scratch. Nothing too major, unlike the one on your torso.”

“Wait, brother? You guys are related?” Garfield asked, this question going ignored as the two siblings kept arguing. 

“It’s just a scratch.” 

Marinette was related to Damian… his sister...

“A scratch!? You’re still bleeding from it!”

Meaning she is a Wayne...and she had quite the overprotective family, and a large one at that… just look at Damian!

“Nothing that I can’t heal on my own.”

Just what is he getting himself into?

“That’s it.” Marinette huffed, pulling out her phone. “I’m calling Grandpere.” Garfield let out a laugh when he saw Damian stiffen.

“Mari, don’t you dare-”

“Alf? Yes, it's me. Listen, Damian doesn’t want to get himself checked, insisting that his injury-stop that!” Marinette yelled at Damian, who tried to grab the phone away from her, only for Garfield to get a hold of it.

“Hey!” “Logan, hand it over to me.” The siblings said simultaneously, only for Garfield to ignore the two.

“Hey Alfred, it’s me, Garfield. Yes, a cut on his torso that’s not too deep. Yes, I will tell him to let Mari to look at it or else there will be consequences.” He looked over at a betrayed Damian and a grinning Marinette who mouthed a thank you. “Yes, I’m fine as well Alfred. Oh! And if Miss Kyle is there, please tell her I said thank you. Right. Bye.” With that, Garfield hanged up, handing Marinette her phone back.

“I won’t forget this betrayal Logan.” Damian said, pouting as he sat back down on the sofa, Marinette already having her tool out to clean his wound.

“You’re very welcome.” Garfield said, grinning as he watched Damian fuss over his patch up.

------

“Thank you for having my back Garfield.” Marinette said as he followed Damian out the window.

Marinette was able to tend to Damian’s injuries with such grace that it left Garfield mesmerized, wondering how he didn’t feel the two hours pass by.

“It was nothing.” Garfield said, averting his gaze from her, scratching the back of his head as heat rose to his cheeks. That’s when he felt a peck on his cheek, turning to see Marinette smile at him.

“A token of my gratitude.” She reasoned, fiddling with her fingers as she watched Garfiled hover a hand over the place she kissed him. “Sorry if I made you uncom-”

“No, no, no!” Garfield started, finally touching the spot with his fingers. “I didn’t mind it.” He melted when she beamed, only for Damian to ruin their moment.

“Hurry up! I don’t have all night!” Damian yelled, causing Garfield to groan.

“So about tomorrow-” Mari started, only for Gar to cut her off.

“Come in the morning for the check up. Got it.” Garfield recited, lifting his right hand. “Promise to be here at 8 sharp.”

“Well, I was thinking if you’d like to join me for breakfast after the check up.” Gar broke into a smile. “Would you?”

“Definitely!” Gar said, “Consider it a date then.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he went to join Damian, looking forward to his breakfast date with Marinette.

Marinette watched as Garfield jumped away, going back to the file she had for him. Picking up her pink pen, she drew a small heart next to his name.

She can’t wait for tomorrow’s date, even if it meant that her stupid brothers might try to stop it.

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter Eight: Teenage Dream

Series Masterlist•<previous•next>

A week into the tour and your body finally decided to allow you wake up before two in the afternoon. You stretched your body a little bit in your bunk before getting up and out to finish stretching. You checked the surrounding bunks and saw that only Haruka was still sound asleep while the others were empty. Making your way to the lounge you found your missing members and greeted them. They gave you back a robotic response while peeking out the window.

“The hell are y’all looking at?”

“The boys,” Yui answered. “I’m waiting to see if one of them eat shit.”

“Yui, what the-“

“Look, look, look!” Izumi whispered, stretching her arm behind her in an attempt to grab you to pull you towards them. You placed your knees on the bench to watch through the blinds with them.

Semi, Subaru, and Ranmaru were wearing plain t-shirts and gym shorts while Jiro wore a buttoned up blue flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black skinny jeans. The three elders from the group seemed to be running back and fourth from one end of the parking lot to the other while Jiro was skating a few feet away.

“How long have they been doing this?” You asked, turning away from the window.

“No clue- oh shit!” Izumi exclaimed, jumping up and running over to the main door to hop off the bus.

“That was a bad wipeout,” Yui added, following after the bassist. You followed after them, hesitating a little bit because you had just woken up and were in your sleepwear. Saying ‘fuck it,’ you threw on a pair of slip ons before following the others.

“Jiro!” Subaru and Ranmaru yelled before running over to their guitarist.

“Dude! You good?” Semi asked, crouching down to help Jiro sit up.

“Yeah, I’m good. Where’s my board?”

“I’ll go grab it,” Yui said as she headed towards the direction of there the skateboard rolled off to.

“What happened? I heard yelling,” Haruka asked. She was stepping off the bus still in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes, making it clear that she had just woken up. Her eyes landed on Jiro who was sitting on the pavement. He looked at her with panic in his eyes as she took in his disheveled look. “Why are you bleeding?”

“I- I’m okay, no need to worry-“

“You have a giant hole in your jeans that shows your red scraped knee, you have scratches on your face, and I can see the blood droplets on your flannel!” Haruka exclaimed, turning back around getting onto the bus.

“Is she pissed?” Jiro asked.

“Nah, just concerned. She probably went to grab our first aid kit,” Izumi answered. “You should probably take off your flannel though, that’s a pretty big stain on your elbow.”

Jiro unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a black t-shirt. Haruka came back with the kit and knelt next to the heterochromatic male. She took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some gauze making him gulp, knowing what was to come. “Do you have to use that?” Jiro asked, gradually moving his arm away from her.

“Yes, now sit still,” Haruka responded.

“Here’s the board I ran as fast I could as soon as I saw-“

“Fuck!”

“-the brown bottle,” Yui laughed. “Guess nurse Haruka has it under control.” The rest of you laughed at Jiro’s reaction and left Haruka to tend to his wounds.

“What are you guys doing anyways?” Izumi asked the three older males.

“Oh, we were working out. Jiro does his own thing for exercise which is mostly either parkour or skating,” Subaru responded.

“Or as we call it, just Jiro things,” Ranmaru added on. “You guys are free to join us during our workouts though, makes things more fun.”

“Haruka and I might join you guys,” Yui responded.

“Pass from Izumi and I,” you spoke up.

“And why’s that? Nice pajamas by the way, very festive for summer with the snowflakes,” Semi teased.

“Leave me alone. Sweating is gross. And personally I get bored doing the same thing repetitively. I’ll go on a walk, maybe jog a little bit, but that’s about it.”

“Sweating is gross, huh?” Semi asked with a devious look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” you responded, taking a few steps back as Semi walked closer to you.

“What? I just wanted to give you a hug, especially while you wear your cute pajammies.”

“Stay the fuck away from me. Semi. Semi! No!” And now you were running away from the 180cm tall former setter, who you know could catch up to you at any time. You still chose to take your chances though.

“He’s never gonna let her go, is he?” Ranmaru asked Subaru.

Izumi and Yui heard him loud and clear which peaked Yui’s interest. “Ahhh so he still has feelings for our leader. How cute.”

“Keep this between us, but yeah,” Subaru spoke. “Does she have any feelings left for him?”

“Honestly, we’re not sure. She never talked about him after the whole thing went down. She’s been with other people but she’s never been over the moon for them. It doesn’t help that she’s also super independent. It makes us think sometimes that she’d rather be single. There’s nothing wrong with that either, but at the end of the day we think it’d be nice for her to find someone,” Izumi spoke, watching you run around the bus only to yell out you were going back to sleep right when Semi caught up and wrapped his arms around you. “You guys might not believe it but how she’s acting now with him is no different to how she’d act with other people. Maybe it’s because of all the touring we do but she’s so open with people that it’s hard to read her. We love her and she’s fun to be around with but when it comes to her, it’s hard to tell what she wants.”

“We see. Eita’s sort of been the same in relationships. He’s gone on dates too but he’s never been whipped for any of them. Like he’ll do his best to please them and shit like a good partner should, but if you look at him from a distance it feels almost forced. He wants to love but it’s like fake love, if that makes any sense,” Subaru spoke.

“What about your drummer girl? Also between us, Jiro still seems to like them a lot,” Ranmaru asked, deciding to bring light to the other potential couple.

“Wait, what do you mean still? From what we know, they were friends during their final year but that’s it,” Izumi explained , now confused.

“Jiro fell for her hard during that year like he would come home and talk to us about her and ask for advice if he couldn’t ask his older brother. The thing is he was labeled the dumb hooligan while Haruka was the typical quiet good girl so he didn’t want to taint her record. You know how people talk in high school. He was convinced she shouldn’t be with a fool like him, so he never spoke up,” Subaru followed up.

“Ah. Well I think they’ll be together by the end of the tour, maybe even week. I can feel it,” Yui said.

“And what about you guys? Are you single?”

“I have a boyfriend,” Izumi quickly answered. “He’s back in Japan.”

“I’m single. My reason being it’s hard finding people you wanna know more about, ya know?”

“Really now?” Subaru answered, looking at Ranmaru.

“Yui, are you sick? I think you’re lacking some vitamin me,” Ranmaru said, attempting to put his arm over Yui’s shoulders.

“No! Me!” Subaru argued.

Before either of them could touch her, Yui grabbed their forearms and tugged on them to bring them closer. When they jumped a little closer together she took their hands and placed them in each other’s before letting go. Yui looked over and Izumi who was smirking from trying to hold in a laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Dumb and Dumber. Since I apparently have you guys weak at the knees it appears you might be lacking vitamin D. You two should get to know each other and solve that problem,” Yui responded as she gave them a fake smile. “Let’s go Izu,” she laughed, turning from the boys to get back onto the bus.

Semi came back to the two white haired males and crossed his arms before speaking. “You guys are idiots.”

“Karaoke night!” Haruka cheered when your set finished that night.

“We just got done playing and you’re this excited for karaoke? At least act tired,” Izumi whined, leaning forward to place her hands on her knees after she set her guitar down.

“Haru,” Yui started before taking a deep breath, “what the fuck.”

“Mmmm, nice cold floor,” you said, letting your body collapse on the black tiles the backstage had to offer.

“Y/n, no!”

“Get up people walk there!”

“It’s dirty!”

Too tired to figure out who said what, you let out a groan and got up. “Fine I’m up, I’m up. I need a baby wipe though. I’m all sweaty and gross.” Making your way over to your green room you bumped into One Ok Rock. “Hey guys.”

“Hello, hello. You guys sounded amazing as always,” Taka complimented.

“Thanks! Oh! Do you guys have plans after your set?” Haruka asked.

“Sleep,” Ryota responded which made the others laugh.

“Ah haha, did you guys have something in mind?” Toru asked.

“We’re all off tomorrow so we were gonna have a karaoke night on our bus,” Yui explained.

“And there’ll be booze!” Izumi added.

“We’ll try to pop by then,” Tomo answered. You wished them luck before heading into your dressing room to clean up a little bit before meeting your fans.

Yui and Haruka were currently making dinner while while you were showering and Izumi was setting up the karaoke system.

“Oh fuck, we forgot to invite Won’t Regret,” Yui mentioned.

“I’ll text RoRo!” Haruka lit up.

“How could we forget to invite all of your guys boyfriends?” Izumi teased.

“Jiro is not my boyfriend!”

“I never said he was,” Izumi responded with a smirk.

“Does this make thing one and two mine?” Yui asked.

“Lol, yeah. Are you gonna tell them?”

“Yeah, I don’t need them annoying me. I have enough to put up with.”

Stepping out of the shower with a towel around your body you looked over at the girls and saw they were still doing what they did when you last saw them. “Hey, is dinner- oop gotta go!” You exclaimed, running to your bunks and closing the door because there was a knock at the front of the bus.

“It’s open!” Izumi yelled. Coming up the steps was Taka and Toru with smiles on their faces. “Hey! Welcome to our bus! Did the others decide to call it a night instead?”

“Yeah. They’re parents now so they age faster and need more sleep,” Toru laughed.

“No worries. C’mon in and take a seat. We just finished cooking if you’d like some food,” Haruka said, showing them a plate she had already prepared.

“Taka and Toru just got on the girl’s bus. Wonder what’s going on over there,” Ranmaru said aloud as he glanced out the window.

“Who what now?” Semi asked, looking up from his phone.

“Oh they’re doing some karaoke tonight. RuRu just texted me to invite us,” Jiro answered.

“RuRu? Do you mean Haruka? You guys have nicknames for each other already?” Subaru teased, laughing at Jiro’s reaction.

“Look at how red he is!” Semi roared.

Subaru looked over at Ranmaru, smirking knowing he was about to roast Semi. “Boy if you don’t shut up! Go look in a mirror before judging him!”

“Eh?!”

“Eita, every time Y/n is around you put all your attention on them. It’s like you’re a bee fixated on a flower. Just non stop buzz buzz buzz around them.”

“Okay, I get it.” Semi sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. Please just ask them out already.”

“I can’t do that, bro. It’s too soon. We’re just friends for now.”

“We have 5 weeks left on this tour. You’re gonna have to ask them out before then. Who knows if we’ll see them again after this.”

Letting Ranmaru’s words sink in he realized the reality of it. After the tour was over your band would probably go on your own tour to promote your new album in Europe, Australia, Japan and maybe even the US again whereas his band would probably only do Japan. You’d be busy touring and focusing on yourself you wouldn’t have the chance to see each other again. “Fuck. You’re right.”

“I’m always right. Anyways I’m headed to bed. Have fun at karaoke.”

“I’m going to bed too. Night,” Subaru yawned.

“Guess it’s just us,” Jiro laughed before tilting his head to ask “let’s go?” to which Semi responded with a head nod. They told their bus driver they’d be on the other bus so he could drive off if they didn’t come back by midnight.

“Alright that’s the theme tonight?” Yui asked Izumi, covering her mouth since she was chewing. They were both currently sitting on the small kitchen counter while Taka and Toru were sitting around their dining table and Haruka was standing off to the side.

“Let’s have our guests have the honor! Hit the button to spin the wheel,” she explained as she jumped off to hand her phone to the two older men. “Ooo, looks like we’re doing ‘Women in Pop’!”

Hearing knocking from the front door, Yui yelled it was open. Semi and Jiro walked in and greeted everyone. “It smells so good,” Jiro stated, eyes lighting up once he spotted the meal that was cooked.

“Take a seat and I’ll give you a plate. Semi, would you like one too?” Haruka asked. Semi nodded his head and they both accepted the meal after thanking them for the hospitality. After they were seated Yui got them up to speed to what they were doing.

“We should probably go first to show them how it’s done,” Haruka stated.

“I kinda wanna finish my food,” Izumi mumbled which made Yui jump in and say ‘me too’. Luckily for Haruka, you had just come out of the bunk area in sweats. “Look at that, Y/n can sing with you.”

“What did I do in the first five seconds of me appearing for me to go first?” You asked confused.

“Show up. Here is your mic,” Yui responded, making you playfully roll your eyes at her.

“How do you decide what song to sing?” Taka asked.

“We just decide between ourselves. Any song is good as long as it fits the theme,” Haruka responded. You let Haruka pick and take the lead for the song as you backed her up and sang your parts while also trying to match her energy in small dance gestures. When you finished you handed your microphone to Toru who asked to go next and Haruka handed hers to Izumi. Fixing yourself a plate you took Toru’s spot and sat next to Taka while Haruka took Izumi’s spot.

“Yo,” Semi started to grab your attention, leaning forward to not speak into Taka’s face.

“Yo,” you responded.

He smirked before continuing, “nice pajamas.”

You let out a small chuckle before looking back at him. “Leave me and my comfy clothing alone, asshole. I am cozy.”

Laughing at the nickname you gave Semi, Taka decided to jump in. “Hey Eita, we should go next.”

“Eh, I don’t know. Honestly I’m not much of a karaoke guy.”

“Boo, Semi you’re no fun,” you pouted while eating your food.

“Yeah, Eita you should try it out,” Jiro added.

Semi threw his head back and grunted in disapproval before turning his head to look at you. As he leaned back you did as well and gave him a child like smile, showing as many teeth as you could with your lips curved upwards as a friendly way to encourage him. Letting out a small chuckle, he leaned forward and let his forearms rest on the table. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” You, Taka, and Jiro cheered. Izumi and Toru sang Party In the U.S.A. by Miley Cyrus which had the group laughing when Toru tried to reach the high note and when he tried to mimic Izumi’s dancing. When they were done you all applauded for them.

“Do you have an idea for a song?” Semi asked Taka, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, yeah. I wanna do Beyoncé! Is Single Ladies good?,” Taka responded with a giant grin.

“I’m good with that.” The two got up from their spots and you and Jiro slid into their spots so others could sit as well. They accepted the mics from Izumi and Toru, Taka stretching afterwards to ‘loosen his body up’.

When the music started, Taka started moving his shoulders from side to side while Semi lightly bobbed his head along to the beat. Taka took the lead and sang the first verse. As the song progressed Taka put his body more into the flow making you all get louder for him to cheer him on. Leaving the second verse to Semi he moved his torso more into the song but he couldn’t compare to Taka, and it made him start overthinking a little.

He’s so much cooler and better than he is. Taka knows how to rile up a crowd. His performances are better than Semi’s but then again he does have more experience so he has to factor that into their differences. He’s so chill and laid back but also open and hilarious, he’s got it all.

Towards the end of the song when they were singing the last of the “all the single ladies”, Taka got closer to where you were sitting and went to hold your hand as he sang, causing the group to hype him up even more than they already where.

When they finished, you and Yui went next, opting to do Katy Perry. As you took the lead, Semi couldn’t keep his eyes off you and agree with the lyrics you were singing. He enjoyed your facial expressions as you sang and the way you carried yourself, somehow different than how you were on stage. Unfortunately Semi also couldn’t stop the negative thoughts that obscured his brain.

Semi noticed the blush on your face when Taka had the slightly intimate gesture with you. What if he’s not good enough for you? He doesn’t want to hold you back from being the happiest person you could be. Semi knows he’s not the funniest, most charming person in the world. Compared to your ex, Tendou, he knows they’re almost nowhere near similar. Tendou was more easygoing and knew how to light up the mood whereas Semi is more uptight, always concerned about others and what they think. If anything Taka was more like Tendou, a potential better option for you than himself. But he knows you all had just met recently so who knows if Taka is just being friendly or trying to get at something. Maybe you were just going to stay a teenage dream.

A/n: look at that an update. Sorry for taking so long, I’ve been tired but here ya go!

Taglist: @pluviophilefangirl @yourstarvic @sunaswife @mynscorner @itoshibaby @discountkiyoko @ibetonlosingcats @lilith412426 @soggyacidjuice

[ad1thi]

henlo adi tis i with a request for some stevetony fics,,, angsty if you have 'em 💓

okay so this rec list is mainly classic stevetony fics, but i assure you - there’s angsty ones in there (ive marked the angsty ones with a 😞 so you can identify them quicker) just a general note that a lot of authors are going to repeat, because there are some authors that (imo) are stevetony staples (so if you see an author more than once - thats a sign that ALL of their stevetony is good and ive cherry picked the ones i love the most) (ive also marked those authors with a 🌟) 

//

in the light of limerence:  @shell-heads

It's the final game of the season, their biggest one yet, and there's only one question on everybody's mind: who the hell is Captain Steve Rogers' boyfriend, and why does Cap keep dodging questions about him?

"You gotta admit it's suspicious that only Bucky and Sam have met your boyfriend, dude," Clint points out as he shoves Pietro away with a smirk, pulling the uniform over his head and tugging it down. "We've known you, what-two years? We've never seen the guy even once."

"And your phone mysteriously only has pictures of Tony Stark," Johnny Storm adds as he joins the conversation, knocking knees with Thor when he sits down on one of the benches. "Tony Stark, who has at least ten fansites and personally assured me he's had a boyfriend for the past five years."

"I can't believe Cap is actually out here acting like Tony Stark's boyfriend," Luke says with a smirk, resting against a wall without a care.

"I can't believe you guys still think this is a joke," Sam throws back while tossing his other dirty sock at Luke, who dodges it smoothly.

In little more than ten minutes, the biggest question of Shield University is answered with much aplomb by none other than Tony Stark himself.

almeno tu nell'universo: @silkspectred 😞 🌟 (funfact: this is the fic that got me into stevetony) 

Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Rookie and Jailbait Take On The World: @theapplepielifestyle 🌟

“You really should be in school, you know.”

“Why would I be there when I could be here, solving crimes with my favourite rookie?” Tony flashes a grin, and Steve’s stomach twists like it did on the first day.

Teenager, Steve’s mind supplies. Definitely not legal, stop doing fluttery things, stomach.

Thumb, Index and Pinky Extended: @/Eudoxia 😞

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you: @mizzy2k

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

Celestial Navigation: @sabrecmc

Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.

Ironsides: @copperbadge 🌟

Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.

Paved With Good Intentions (I’m On The Road To Hell): @itsallavengers 😞 🌟

When the mysterious group of vigilante assassins known only as 'The Avengers' are tipped off about the dirty secrets that lie within Stark Industries, Steve Rogers has his heart set on taking out Tony Stark for good in order to protect the rest of the world from his evil. He's seen the footage, after all- Stark is a man who fights only for himself. And of course, when a job arises as chief bodyguard for Stark, to protect him from the growing threat of an ominously infatuated stalker, the opportunity is way too good for him to miss out on. It's the perfect placement, and the perfect way to find out whether or not their tipoff is genuine.

But as Steve falls into rank as the new bodyguard for Mr. Stark and he spends time getting to know and protect him, his initial hatred begins to falter and merge into something different, something far more terrifying than the prospect of killing the face of Stark Industries.

Steve Rogers may just be falling in love with him instead.

The Problem With Communication: @itsallavengers

Steve is terrible at flirting, but when he finally picks up the courage to talk to the adorable barista who makes his drinks, he finds himself hitting a small snag:

That being, Tony is deaf. He doesn't know what Steve is saying.

But never say Steve Rogers does not rise to a challenge.

Killing Me Softly (With His Song): @itsallavengers

Steve is Tony's whole world. Tony couldn't imagine life without him. They've grown up together, after all.

Steve gets cancer.

Open Field In Front of Him: orphan account

Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.

Good For You: @orbingarrow 😞

Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

COMPLETE 5/27/16 Edited to add art as last chapter on 6/23/16

Wrapped Up In Clover: @festiveferret

It's been seven years since Steve and Tony split up, and Steve's sure he'll never see Tony again. He's finally managed to put their failed relationship behind him and move on, focusing on his friends and building his business. But then his best friends, Bucky and Clint, decide to get married, and their wedding week at a cabin resort in Vermont turns into a minefield of heartbreak for Steve.

little green soldiers: @/nasa 🌟

“Rhodey,” Tony says. “I’m not stupid. He’s shipping out in three months. I’m not going to fall in love with him.”

Tony is a student at MIT; Steve is a soldier. They meet at a house party six months before Steve is set to deploy. This is their story.

flesh and bone: @/nasa 😞

“You or Rogers?” they ask, brandishing a knife or a gun or a flame.

“Me,” Tony says, over and over again. “Me, me, me,” always me.

Buried: @not-close-to-straight

When Howard Stark demands Tony work at a dig site in S.America one summer to "build character" and "learn about life", Tony is furious. But then he meets soldier/archeologist Steve and falls in love with blue eyes and a perfect smile. 

Just as they are ready to move forward together, Steve leaves abruptly with no explanation and breaks Tonys heart. Ten years later, Tony stumbles across the file for the old dig site. He's determined to visit and shut it down, but discovers that instead of a village, the dig has uncovered a temple and actually needs MORE money to stay open. A security team is hired to protect the staff and the artefacts they find, and Tony comes face to face with Steve Rogers all over again– except Steve is bearded and BIGGER and way more dangerous than he used to be...And Tony likes it.

When the camp is attacked, Steve jumps into action, snatching Tony and running into the jungle to escape and work their way towards safety. But long days and nights together bring back old feelings, and one day Steve takes a risk and asks Tony to give them another chance. Will Tony say yes? Or is his heart buried too far for the soldier-turned- archaeologist-turned-mercenary to find it?

don’t know why it took me so long to see: @3799steps 

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognising his boyfriend past a mask

Heartlines: @nanasekei 🌟

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.“

Feel Whole Again: @thepartyresponsible

Steve turns to leave. It’s easier to talk, somehow, when he’s not looking at him. “If you need anything,” he says, “I’m just a few floors down.”

“Might regret that, Cap,” Tony says to his retreating back. “I’ve been told I’m needy.”

Steve doesn’t know who the hell said that to Tony. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.

“It’s an honor,” he says, a little helpless, out of his depth and out of his time. “It’s an honor to be trusted with something like that, Tony.”

Attack Dog: @/salytierra

Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.

But it feels so good…

His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Promises

Got back into One Piece and can’t get over the fact that Ace is dead. And so I decided that he won’t be in my head and started to write a few things here and there. Shamelessly plugging an OC, because I love him to bits. And he needs a happy end. So... Here we go! Humming to herself, Saki turned the page of her book, eyes fixed on the letters as she walked along the deck. The Moby Dick’s library really was something else, she had never seen so many rare books – on zoology, botanic, devil fruits, Haki, really anything the heart could desire.While the date signature on the first page had let her know that this particular book was more than 20 years old by now and it was written by hand, she had never seen anything else as detailed when it came to different species of geckos in the new world. Who’d have guessed that there was actually a small species in the New World that was literally able to spit fire? Maybe they’d pass by that island at some point…Turning another page, she suddenly collided with something quite solid and yelped, barely managing to catch the book before it hit the ground. Which brought her eye-level with a way too big belt-buckled labelled with a giant “A” on it. “Shouldn’t you be looking where you’re going?” her obstacle asked her. She didn’t need to look up into his face to see the wide grin. Rolling her eyes, she straightened and closed the book, keeping one finger in between the pages. “Shouldn’t you be a nice enough not to find a secondary occupation as a wall?” He laughed, but of course didn’t move a single step out of the way. She felt a grin tug on the corners of her mouth and couldn’t help but give him a playful shove – which didn’t move him more than perhaps a centimeter. “Well, if my pirating days are over, I’ll always have something to fall back to. Gotta practice, though,” he replied, resting a hand on the railing and crouching down slightly, so she didn’t have to look up to him too much. “And what a pretty wall you’ll make one day, sweetheart.” This time she couldn’t help and did have to smile, unable to not at least briefly let her eyes wander down over his chest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Again. She’d given up to try and get him to wear one – he kept asking why, and she was running out of excuses and she couldn’t very well tell him, that it was distracting as hell. It had always been, but she felt like he’d gotten even… worse. Yes. Worse. All those finely defined muscles, tanned skin. Horrible, really. “Awww, you make me blush!” His grin widened even more, but there was no sign of a blush. Thankfully, he didn’t take her seriously – which meant she got away with way more than she would usually allow herself to say. “You’d make a pretty wall too, Saki!” he added after a moment and imitated her, looking her over with a feigned contemplating expression. “Maybe a bit bumpy.” The woman took a moment to register that last part, distracted by how he allowed his eyes to linger on her just a moment too long to be absolutely casual, before meeting her gaze again. Sometimes he almost made her think there was more to the flirting than just that… if she didn’t know any better… “Well, that complaint is a first.” She was quick to answer and laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely not a complaint. I just think that perhaps you’ll need another occupation – that way, at least, I’ll not have too much competition!” Ace suddenly straightened again and she’d have sworn there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “Such as?” she inquired, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. “Cushion?” Ace suggested and a heart-beat later, quickly continued: “Uhm… I mean… I would sure be nice to-… you know. Because- I mean, not soft soft, but like- because a cushion…” He silenced himself, suddenly embarrassed and she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had apparently blurted out the first thing that came to mind – cushion! Of all things! – or that he was then way too embarrassed to explain his train of thought, while obviously being afraid of insulting her in some way. He was just too cute for her own good. Anybody else, and she’d have been probably indeed offended, but somehow, she couldn’t be when it was him. She’d not be opposed to being his cushion at some point – not that she’d ever tell him that. “Yes? You were saying?” She was looking up at him, as he was fidgeting with his hat and he got even more nervous, mumbling something about how cushions were actually good, especially when you were tired or when you wanted a nap, and how being soft was a good thing, really, and then, finally meeting her eyes again, realized he’d been had. “You’re evil,” he stated and dropped his hands, all but pouting. Desperately resisting the urge touch him, she folded her arms behind her back, tightly holding onto the book. She tried her best, but absolutely couldn’t manage to sound sincere: “Excuse-moi.” And since she didn’t sound like she was sorry at all, she decided she might just as well continue. “Just glad to hear my soft bumpiness isn’t too appalling.” He murmured something under his breath and then, louder: “As if you needed that confirmed by me... From what I heard, somebody was really happy to see you yesterday.” Huh? Where had that come from? The others must have told him about the new rookie that told her in no uncertain terms how she could doctor him once she had a moment, very obviously thinking she was one of the nurses on the Moby Dick, looking her up and down. That comment had cost the guy a tooth, a black eye and a big dent in his ego. She’d learned is was best to put them in their place from the get-go. Friendly words just encouraged some of them. “You know, something like that is pretty much the opposite of a compliment. Makes you feel like they think you’re a little joy-toy for the whole crew or something,” she told him and made a gagging motion to underline her point. It usually only happened with newbies – the Whitebeard pirates were a rowdy bunch, but all good guys that respected her and were never rude. That she could throw a good punch didn’t hurt either. The rookies just sometimes felt like they needed to prove their manliness, or were not used to women in the crew. Something that she did blame Whitebeard a bit for. “Who was it?” Ace asked and she noticed with a start that he looked way too serious all of a sudden. Dummy looked he wanted to go and avenge her honor any moment now. “Did Marco tell you who it was?” Saki asked instead of answering, and he stiffly shook his head. “Well, and why do you think that is, sweetheart?” And just like that, his jaw was set. Because he knew the answer, he just didn’t like it. Since he didn’t answer her, she just shrugged and continued talking. “Look, I punched him in the nose, made him apologize and told him a bit about respect, before I let him go nurse his wounded pride. All’s fine. I’m a big girl, you know?” He remained silent for a bit longer and she waited patiently. He didn’t have much of a poker face, so she could almost see his inner conflict. Ace was a good guy – no, a great guy – and even though the Spade pirates didn’t exist any longer, he still felt as though he needed to protect them all as their captain. Plus, the whole all-male-fighting-crew-thing Pops had going on really didn’t help.Before she could catch herself, she reached out and tugged on one of the soft, black bangs that had fallen into his face. Ripped from his thoughts, he looked at her and finally sighed. “I could have punched him for you.”She smiled at him, tugging the bang behind his ear and then quickly drawing her hand back. How did he manage to have such soft hair? Her fingers itched to be buried in those black locks, drawing him closer to her. “I know. If I ever need some extra punching to be done, I’ll invite you.” “I’m not saying you can’t do it, you know.” Ace looked at her intently and she noticed some flames erupting from his arms, almost unnoticeable to the naked eye. He hadn’t move since she touched him. “I know you’re strong. Definitely stronger than those wannabes. I’m just saying, you shouldn’t have to deal with that. Marco could-…” “Ace,” she interrupted him and he snapped his mouth shut. “If I couldn’t even handle something like that, I’d be totally embarrassed to call myself a pirate. I know all of you would sock somebody in the jaw for me, and I really appreciate it and should I ever need help with that, I’ll definitely let you know. And Marco. And Thatch. And Vista.” “But me first,” he demanded and she couldn’t help but laugh again. “You first,” she promised. He’d been the one to pick up the pieces of her, after all, all those years back. He’d been the one to take her out to the sea, the one to believe in her, and she’d never be able to thank him enough for that.They remained like that for a moment, just smiling at each other, and then he suddenly reached out and caught the hem of her light jacket, pulling her a step closer to him, almost making her stumble. Surprised, she didn’t even manage to bring up her hands in time, but reflexively dropped the book she had still grasped, and before she knew it, her cheek was against his neck, his arms wrapped around her tightly.His skin was hot, the muscles under her hard. Comforting, reassuring. She allowed herself to close her eyes and just enjoy this for a moment, this warm embrace that felt like home, the smell of a crackling fire and the storm of butterflies in her stomach. Saki knew this was bad. She never got her defenses up quick enough when he did something like that, and just kept slipping deeper into this thing she had for him. Infatuation. Complete and hopeless infatuation. As one-sided as it was, and as much as it stung, she had to salvage moments like these. “Promise?” he murmured against the crown of her head. She had no idea what had brought this on. Since being in different divisions, she wasn’t any longer privy to the every happenings around him, and while he did seek her out almost as often as she him, the times he’d hugged her she could count on one hand. Somehow, he seemed fragile right now. She brought her arms up around him, squeezing him tightly and smiled against his chest, hoping he’d feel it. “Always.” At her answer, he squeezed back, and then slowly let her go and stepped back. She felt the acute loss of warmth and wished it had lasted a bit longer. What she didn’t know about was the reluctance with which he did so. “I gotta go now. I need to talk to Pops.” He sounded somewhat hesitant and quickly bent to pick up her book, quietly apologizing for making her drop it and straightening out the bent pages. He wouldn’t meet her eyes all of a sudden.“Tomorrow, can we talk?” he asked and handed her the book. Somehow, their conversation got more and more confusing for her. This had turned out to be an unexpected roller-coaster. Something definitely was up with him. “Sure, you can always find me if you need to talk. Is everything okay?” She cocked her head to the side, but he still didn’t look at her, and just grinned, turned to walk away. “I’ll tell you tomorrow!” he said and waved at her without looking back. Shaking her head, she tried to straighten the pages of the book and winced when she saw a little burn on the cover page. Oh no, and she’d taken such good care up until now… She shouldn’t have let him touch it. Just when she turned to bring it back to the library herself, she heard him shout her name and turned around. “Definitely too bumpy for a wall!” he shouted once he was sure she was listening. Across the whole deck. Loud and clear. Making several other crew members turn in confusion, who had undoubtedly already been confused enough by their sudden hug. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and quickly turned to stalk to the library.