#took a quick glance in the tag to find some gif sets maybe and wow! all of you suck! aaaah!

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Presents and Kisses

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,858

Summary: It’s reader’s birthday and Reid has some surprises up his sleeve. Dedicated to the lovely @saviorsong​. Happy Birthday! 

The café was a small, single room operation so sound from both the dining area and the kitchen traveled throughout. And everyone heard when your boyfriend came out of the bathroom, throwing the door open with such force that a bang rang out from where it hit the wall.

The poor barista almost dropped a drink they were making out of surprise.

“Babe, that was the biggest shit I’ve taken this month,” Reid practically shouted as he made his way back to the table.

You didn’t bother to acknowledge that particular comment and kept your attention on Tyler who had also tagged along with you guys. It was better to not entertain poop talk seeing as how you were in public.

“Babe! Did you hear what I said?”

“I think everyone did,” you replied pointedly. He dropped into his chair, hands clutching at his stomach.

You continued chatting with Tyler about a class you were taking and Reid still kept fidgeting and groaning. He was normally dramatic but he was really hamming it up.

You turned to him with a raised brow. That was all it took for him to increase his complaining.

“I think it was the food. It’s gotta be food poisoning, I feel so sick.”

“But we ate from the same plate.”

A glance at the table showed a shared plate that had long been eaten with not a drop of sauce left on the it after you both had all but cleaned the dish. If he actually had food poisoning, shouldn’t you be feeling it too? Your stomach felt perfectly fine, if not satisfied.

“Everyone reacts differently to these things, you know.”

Tyler nodded seriously, corroborating Reid’s claim. Those two were thicker than thieves, always ready to back each other up.

“No telling how bad this could get. I’m gonna head home but you should stay, Ty can hang out with you,” he said.

“Really?” Your tone was colored with incredulously. “Today of all days?”

He completely ignored that and bent down for a kiss. You were extremely tempted to turn away but ended up giving in. Reid may be an idiot, but he was your idiot. Keeping up with the sick-as-a-dog routine, he gingerly hobbled out of the café.

And since he was your idiot, you knew something was definitely up. You didn’t claim to be the smartest person around but Reid wasn’t exactly subtle.

Immediately, your attention turned towards Tyler. If one was plotting, then the other would know.

The brunette raised his hands as if to keep things peaceful. “Okay, okay. Don’t be upset.”

“It’s my birthday and my man just ran out under suspicious circumstances. I have every right to be annoyed.”

“Exactly! You’re the reason why he left!” He paused for an awkward second. “Wow. That came out totally wrong. What I mean is that he’s setting up something nice for you.”

“He is?” you asked suddenly touched.

Reid was a romantic sort. Maybe not always so smooth about it, but a romantic nonetheless. And he did do things for you often, even if a good number of things were in an attempt to apologize for something stupid he did, but he had never done a birthday surprise.

Well, not one where he had kept it a surprise for this long. Normally he couldn’t keep quiet about his plans so you were a bit impressed that you hadn’t noticed until his terrible acting just then.

Tyler nodded again, this time in excitement. “Yep. He needs a few hours to get it ready though…we can either stay here or walk around. Your birthday, your choice.”

His methods may be, well, unconventional, but your heart beat a little faster knowing he was planning something. Your mind wandered, thinking up various possibilities. Two hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

***

It ended up being close to six o’clock before you returned home.

You closed the door gently and toed your shoes off. The quietness seemed that much thicker with anticipation weighing heavily.

A trail of rose petals wound around the living room and trailed down the hallway, presumably to the bedroom, but you got distracted by a tantalizing aroma. 

You followed that into the kitchen instead and found a skillet filled with something delicious. Other bowls with other fantastic side dishes were arranged randomly around it on the countertops.  

And then you noticed the cake. Unlike the others, the cake was displayed on the table, a package of candles lying next to it. You walked closer to get a better view and couldn’t the grin hat spread across your face.

Clearly, he had made the cake himself. Not that that was off-putting to you in any way. It was really quite cute.

He had made a small two-layer cake which in of itself didn’t look too bad. The sides were not traditionally frosted so, the parts that were visible, you could see that the shape and the softness looked about right. Kind of. 

In lieu of normal frosting, he had attempted to coat them with a crumb frosting of some sort. Despite his best effort, the crumbs didn’t hadn’t spread evenly with some parts having barely any and others having too much.

It looked like he also had issues with the frosting on top. You guessed that he had tried to apply it while the cake was still warm because it was thinner than it should have been, almost glaze-like. Some had even started to leak over the sides before it was cool enough to harden up again.

Even with flaws, it was still the sweetest, frumpiest birthday cake you could ever remember someone making for you.

You stuck out a finger trying to taste the crumb coat when you felt a sharp smack to your ass.

“Oww!” Rubbing it, you saw Reid standing behind you with a towel in his hand. “Did you really just spank me with a towel?”

“It’s not time for cake yet,” he said. He was shirtless, tattoos on display, baggy cargo pants riding low on his hips. There was a hint of tiredness in his eyes but it was mostly irritation. “This part was for last. You were supposed to follow the roses first.”

Ah. He was irritated that you messed up the plan. But you were so excited to see what else he had in store that you didn’t answer back with a sharp quip of your own. “Then lead the way.”

With a sigh, he put his hands on your shoulders and walked you out of the kitchen. His grip was gentle though so you knew he wasn’t seriously frustrated with you.

The path of rose petals came back into view and you realized they were from a real flower and not plastic. A warm feeling spread through you and it only grew the closer the closer the path drew you to the bedroom. Reid stayed just behind you the whole way, your gentle guide.

“The flowers are beautiful, Reid.”

“I know. And a normal person would’ve followed them from the start.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. “The food all looked really good though. Three Michelin stars across the board.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, would ya?”

You pushed the door with your fingers, thoughts racing. What were you going to find? That fancy stationary set you’d been eyeing online? A fluffy, tail-wagging puppy? A chest of kinky toys?

With Reid it could any one of the three. Maybe even all three.

Tons of balloons were inflated and rolling around the floor, so much so that you had to kick a few out of the way to be able to step in. Even a birthday banner hung over the bed when he had thumbtacked it into the wall.

But the gift was unmistakable.

The large woven basket was sitting on the dresser, fibers dyed your favorite color was hard to miss.

Then came the stuff that was practically overflowing from said basket. You rummaged through it like a old woman at a yard sale, pulling out something new with every handful.

Jewelry. A soft blanket. Cans of your favorite type of drink. Hand painted ceramics. Some hard cover additions you’d been meaning to add to your personal library. New head phones. Dozens of origami creatures. A tee from your favorite team. Coffee mugs and several blends of beans. Hand-held tools  to replace your old ones with. And not only a stationary set but a wax letter stamp seal as well.

And everything from the basket to the last gift followed the same theme: it was all in your favorite color.

You jumped into his arms and he caught you. “I’m—this is…this is…”

“What?” he said, his breath tickling your ear and fingers gripping your thighs tightly. “Impressive? Inspiring? The best goddamn gift you’ve ever seen?”

“Touching,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but you could sense the soft expression on his face.

“How did you even manage to find some of this stuff in this color?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you…”

He went on explaining how he started with the just the stationary (you were right and he had noticed you looking at it) in your favorite color.

Then he added the headphones, also in your favorite color.

Then he’d painted the ceramic pieces himself.  

Eventually thinking up even more potential presents to get, he’d come up with the idea to do everything in that color. The tools were the hardest but he was very proud that he’d been able to pull it off with the help of a custom order from a local business.

“This is super touching. Thanks for putting in this much thought and effort,” you said finally lifting your head up to give him a kiss.

It was meant to be a quick peck but Reid’s lips followed yours when you tried to pull back, turning it into something more passionate. He even managed to lick his way into your mouth before you finally parted, panting for air.

“Mmm,” he breathed, lips back on yours. “You’re eager to get to the next event.”

You made a confused sound in your throat which he swallowed. One of his hands traveled up your leg and over your hip to come to a rest on your lower back. He turned you and that’s when you noticed the bed.

The comforter was already pulled slightly down and more rose petals were scattered all around. He laid you down on the mattress and prowled up your body. The petals were even more fragrant now that you were closer to them.

“What’s the next event?” you asked coyly although it wasn’t hard to guess.

“One kiss for every year you’ve been alive,” he said with a cocked smile. “It was either that many kisses or that many orgasms—I figured all those orgasms might be too much for you though.”

You bit his bottom lip and snuck your fingers under the waistband of his cargo pants suggestively. “How about both?”

He watched in rapture as you removed your shirt, eyes glued to your chest.  

“Anything for you, babe. Happy Birthday.”

_______________

Yay! Thanks for reading. I hope this was alright. 

In my mind, Reid is the type of romantic to make you things, hence the food, origami, and ceramics. But sensual time will also be included just because. 

Honestly, he probably heard what Caleb did for his s/o and, in typical competitive fashion, decided he could do better. He roped in Tyler to keep reader distracted and spent a few hours cooking, decorating, and assembling the massive personalized gift basket. 

They likely did reach fulfill the birthday kiss count but how many orgasms they managed to achieve is up to your imagination. 

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Summary: Tony Stark is a good man. He has lost his entire family yet lives his life devoting himself to helping others. Steve Rogers never knew the secret that Tony has kept since his parents death long ago, but it finally comes out, and everything makes a little more sense. Things change for the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist when someone he thought long gone, has been alive this entire time. And Steve has to learn how to keep his secret from everyone around him, without hurting those he cares the most about.

word count 3.4k

an: wow hey lol yes another steve fic, but different then i’ve done before. did the reader go through trauma? yes. but i still want her to appear strong. in control. for now aha. hope you enjoy!

part 01/015 “two peas in a pod”

next part

If you knew Tony Stark then you knew there was one thing that you could not talk to him about. And that was anything having to do with his family. If you even tried to mention anything about that fateful day in 1991, Tony would leave and ban them from ever interviewing him again.

Especially if they tried to mention his younger sister. God forbid anyone tried that.

“No, we’re done here,” he’d say before walking off the set, his team (Pepper at the time and Happy) would follow behind him, and that reporter would never step near Tony Stark ever again.

Tony never spoke of his family, to anyone, besides maybe Pepper as their relationship developed. But it was December now, and Tony’s demeanor seemed to change the more the month passed. He grew more quiet, not being as snappy as he normally was, and secluded himself from group activities. This time around, he was focused heavily on work, and the other Avengers only saw him when there was a mission on hand. Recently, with the news that Hydra was embedded deep within SHIELD, that’s what they were being sent out to do: take out Hydra bases.

Steve Rogers was concerned for his friend. He had only seen Tony this way once before, but what he couldn’t figure out was why he would get like this. One day, he tried to ask Natasha about it. She shook her head, and told him not to ask, especially don’t ask Tony. He understood, but the information finally let itself out one night.

The Avengers tower was home to a few people on the team when they were in New York. One night, in the early morning of December 16th, there were loud crashes coming from the common area. When Steve came down the stairs, a glass cup flew into the wall between the two elevators on the floor. It shattered, rippling in the air as Tony was going on a tangent.

“How could, how could that even happen! The car losing control my ass,” he slurred. Pepper was there as well, trying to calm him down, but Tony paced back and forth in front of her. Pepper’s eyes met Steve and she extended a hand out for him to stop where he was. Steve stopped his movements, staying on the stairs, Natasha had ended up behind him, watching in silence.

“My parents they didn’t,” he hiccuped, “they didn’t have to take her with them! I said I could, I could take care of her.” Tony paused for a moment, looking into Pepper’s face. Pepper could see the tears in his eyes, but Steve would never admit that he could as well.

“If my father had just listened to me, she’d be here with me. She’d be alive, Pepper.” the last part kind of came out as a whisper. She said something quietly to him, and Tony let himself fold into her arms, and soft cries filled the room. Natasha placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder, motioning for him to follow her back upstairs, away from the scene unfolding before them.

That was when Steve learned that Howard and Maria had also had a little girl, who was with them when the crash happened. She was only fairly young when the crash happened. Natasha told him that Tony and his sister were really close when Tony was home from his schools, two peas in a pod, at least that’s what she read in the past, not that Tony would ever speak of it. Natasha also told him that if he were ever to mention it, the outcome would not be good.

Steve looked into it a bit more, and with each piece of information his heart dropped further into his stomach. Howard and Maria welcomed you into the world as a healthy baby girl, and Tony was seen carrying you into the family home a few days later. Over the next few years as Tony grew older and went to several ivy league schools, he would come home most of the press that was released was of him spending time with his little sister, whose face was blurred in every photo. They were extremely close. Steve had to close his computer, and try and move on with his day with that information running rampant in his head. He could never tell Tony about that day in 1991. For Tony’s sake.

It was spring now, Tony returned back to his normal self but now knowing what he knows, Steve looked at him a little differently. From what he read, he had never seen Tony as intimate with anyone before (with no offense to Pepper), and that changed some of the things he said to his friend.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Tony said, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” he replied earning a grin from the man close to him.

“You look like you’re falling in love with me, but you’re too scared to admit it because I’m your boss. Have you ever seen Two Weeks Notice?”

Steve shook his head a slight smile crossing his lips. They were headed on a quick mission, get in, get out, and kick some Hydra ass, they as in Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Sam. This was their third base this month alone, but with the rate they were going there weren’t going to be many left in the Hydra channel.

“Alright boys, we’re reaching the drop point in a few minutes,” Natasha said from the front of the quinjet. Tony was quick to release his buckle from his body, and stood to move near his suit.

“Well that’s my cue,” Tony commented walking backwards into his suit, “try not to miss me too much Steve,” his words turned more automatic as he stepped back into his suit and it closed around him. Steve rolled his eyes, and Tony shockingly put his hands over his heart as if he was shocked. But then he wiggled his fingers at him, and Natasha opened the back of the plane and Tony dropped out of it flawlessly.

“He’s in a good mood today”, Sam commented, as he was strapping his Falcon wings on.

“He sure is,” Steve replied, and nodded at his new friend who followed Tony’s lead, disappearing into the air.

“I’m bringing her down,” Nat called over the wind. Steve released himself from his constraints and slid his helmet over his eyes. He took the time to tighten his gloves as Natasha lowered the plane to the ground. There was gunfire nearby, some ricocheting off the metal exterior. 

“Always making a mess, you boys,” she said in a joking manner, walking past Steve ready to fight. 

It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get out, take out the bad guys. That was always Tony’s tag line for these kinds of missions. This time though, there were more Hydra agents than anticipated, which could only mean one thing.

They were hiding something.

“These guys are really starting to piss me off,” Tony commented over their com links, and without hesitating, “Jarvis claims there to be possible hostage inside.”

“Romanoff and I will storm the building,” Steve managed between throws of his shield, ricocheting off an enemy and back to him, “watch our backs until we give you word to join us.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Sam replied in his ear. Natasha nodded her readiness to Steve, and he kicked the door in, using his shield to cover them. He moved first, each foot softly moving in front of the other. They were like lions looking for their prey.

The first man that tried to come around the corner, Nat was on him like a predator. Her moves were swift and like fluid, knocking them out and leaving them on the ground. But they pressed on, glancing around corners before making their moves. They needed to find the hostages and get out of there. Carefully, Steve moved into the door frame of a room.

The lights flickered, and there were shuffling noises deeper inside. Steve narrowed his eyes as he tried to focus on the shadows, Natasha behind him felt the wall for any sign of a light switch.

“Bingo,” her sweet voice said, pressing it on and the lights coming to light. As their vision adjusted, Steve lowered his shield a bit. His gaze was on three individuals. Each cowering around one another, they had their arms wrapped around their legs and into their chests. He looked back at Natasha, and nodded for her to proceed. She seemed to be good in these cases. Nat put her gun back into her holster and moved around Steve and edged to them slowly.

“Target acquired, you can join us,” Steve radioed to everyone else.

“I’m thinking we should do Chinese after this, anyone else?” Tony asked in everyone’s ear. Steve shook his head, replacing his shield onto his back.

“We can talk about it later, Stark.”

Natasha was busy trying to get close to the three people on the floor, who had all but pressed themselves into the wall they were against. She could only focus her attention on one at a time, but Steve kept an eye on them as well from a distance.

Tony and Sam joined them shortly after. Tony’s suit opened automatically as he rubbed his wrists cooly.

“SHIELD eta is three minutes, hope you’re making progress over there Romanoff,” Tony expressed, earning a glare from the red head.

“Shut up, Tony.” she replied.

She had wrapped a blanket around one, who had finally averted their eyes from the ground and met hers. She promised each one a life of peace now. They were there to help. The last one she edged towards, was pressed against the wall, knees scooped to their body. Hair laid all around their face, covering their face from her view. What Natasha didn’t know was they could see everything.

Natasha tried to peer into the curtain of hair, hearing faint words leaving their mouth. But with Tony’s incessant talking, she couldn’t make it out.

“Guys-” he called over her shoulder, not earning a response. She glared and spun around on the floor.

“Guys!” she exclaimed, making the three men jump. They looked her way and saw her scowl, and mumbled apologies. She turned her attention back to the third hostage.

She could see the outline of a face now, they had lifted their head slightly. Eyes peered ahead past her, focused on something or an object behind her back. She could make out lips moving, and she tried intently to listen.

Bubba. Bubba. Bubba.

Was Natasha hearing that right?

“Bubba,” she repeated, and the voice she once heard fell silent. But someone behind her stirred.

“What did you say?”

Tony had stepped forward, earning a look from Steve and Nat turned around to look over her shoulder.

“They’re saying bubba, it’s a term mainly used in the south which means-”

“Brother,” Natasha and Tony said at the same time. Steve had never seen Tony so pale in the face. Natasha’s eyebrows were furrowed in a brow before her head snapped back to the source of the voice. Her bottom lip trembled a bit as she looked back to Tony. He had taken a number of steps towards the cowering person, and Natasha backed away.

“Oh my God,” Steve mumbled to himself, watching it all unfold.

Tony kneeled before them, careful of his next movements. His forehead felt hot and his hands were trembling. But he couldn’t deny the tiny word that filled air between them.

Bubba.

Tony was careful with his trembling hand he reached forward, his hand gently moving the person's hair. He was holding his breath as he did, pushing the hair back as he tried to get a look at their face. Their face would tell him everything he needed to know. His hand was nearly cupping their cheek now, and the person let him lift their face up.

Tony gasped. He stared at a face he hadn’t seen in years. He was starting to worry that he would have forgotten what they had looked like. Their eyes had locked with his, the same beautiful color he could remember from his teenage years, but filled with fear and tears. He quickly placed his other hand on their cheek, rubbing his thumbs along their skin.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out. A tear fell down your face, and he pulled you into his arms. He crumpled to the ground and let you sit in his lap, cradling your head on his shoulder. Behind him the rest of the team looked on, Natasha had her hand over her mouth and Sam looked on in bewilderment. Steve on the other hand was quick to take one of the blankets they were using to wrap the hostages and made his way over to Tony. He also was watching your movements. Most of your face was hidden by Tony’s shoulder, but he could see your eyes staring straight ahead and brimmed with tears. As he approached your eyes shot to him, and Steve nearly faltered. Your (e/c) struck him heavily, filled with something other than sadness and the only word he could describe it was deadly.

You detached yourself from Tony as Steve came near, hunkering back to press against the wall. One knee was pressed to your chest while the other kneeled to the ground, watching Steve’s movements. Tony quickly grabbed the blanket from Steve’s hands, and the sound of SHIELD arriving behind them filled the empty halls.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tony whispered, and placed the blanket around your shoulders.

-

Tensions had never been that high. Not since SHIELD fell.

Because of the victims they found, they had to be brought to a safe SHIELD facility to begin reconditioning. That’s what they called the process of beginning to heal these people from the torment they had to endure. When they would get onto the large quinjet (a bus they said), the victims were carefully given a sedative, and would sleep for the next day. That gave the agents time to put them into their own rooms and check every vital sign that they could run. Assess their health and try to find out who they are.

When they would wake up someone (a psychologist or similar) would go in and start talking to them, and analyze their reactions. From there, they hoped to learn anything about what had happened to them, and try and rehabilitate them.

But in this case, Tony wanted to be apart of every step. The doctors on the other hand thought it would be best to have someone else go in when you first woke up. Tony would then call them an idiot and Steve or Natasha (most of the time both) would have to step in and calm him down.

“Tony you have to listen to them,” Nat would say.

“How is someone else going to evaluate my sister? I know her better than anyone else,” he replied.

“But Tony.. She’s gone through an extremely traumatic event, she isn’t going to be the exact same.” Steve would remind him.

Tony would then get frustrated and storm away. Several hours into the ordeal and Pepper was arriving on the scene. Tony and her were alone for a few hours, well into the night and weren’t seen again until the morning. The next time Steve saw him was before you were expected to awaken, and Tony looked tired. But in all honesty so was Steve. Neither had slept all night.

“I’ll only agree to this on one condition,” Tony said. The doctor looked annoyed but allowed him to continue, “I want Steve to be the one to talk to her.”

Steve stood a little straighter at that. He wasn’t 100% surprised but he was still taken aback. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Of course Tony,” he replied and Tony smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Rogers.”

Inside the room you slowly awoke, eyes fluttering open as you fought your way out of the sleepiness. The room was bright, making you quint for a moment as you regain your composure. You sat up fully, almost robotically as someone on the other side of the mirror would note, and the blanket that was covering you fell. You looked down at the clothing you were in, a long sleeved shirt and some soft pants, and you threw the blanket off the rest of your body. You didn’t like unfamiliar places. You carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed and pushed yourself to stand.

The last 48 hours were still a bit hazy. You had returned from an intel mission, being ushered inside to the dark and dank building and into interrogation. They believed that you had blown your cover and contacted someone from your past. They knew who you were, and you knew as well. But you wouldn’t dare try that. You weren’t stupid. You were always watched when they sent you out. No matter what you collected from them, or who you killed for them - there was never to be trust in your case.

But who would blame them. If you were alone, you would have tried to flee back to America in all honesty. They had tortured you for hours before throwing you in with the others. Each cowering against that wall as you were all watched. And that’s when the attack happened. But you truly never expected to see Tony.

You turned around the room, wondering where he was. Your thoughts were cut short when the door opened suddenly, startling you. You were quick to hunker back onto the bed, in that crouched position and protecting your back by pushing against the pillow on the bed. Your eyes locked with the man who walked in.

Tall, broad, and handsome. But a stranger in ways. You didn’t know him personally, but could remember the stories your father would tell Tony and you when you were younger. He walked in and it felt like he could command a room, and he did. His eyes didn’t break your gaze either as he made his way to a chair on the other side of the room. He sat down, hunching forward to rest his elbows on his legs.

“How are you feeling,” he asked first. You had never been asked that. Your eyes scanned him up and down, he noticed easily, not that you tried to hide that. You were assessing him. He knew that. You chose not to answer. He didn’t let that affect him though.

“My name is-”

“Steve Rogers,” you finished. He nodded, hearing your voice fully for the first time. It was distinct, strong in a way he didn’t know how yet, but laced with something sweet. He nodded at you though.

“Do you know who you are?” he asked.

Your eye twitched a bit, a reaction you couldn’t control. You broke your eye contact with him to glance at the two-way mirror and then to your hands. One laid on your leg that was close to your chest, and the other on your thigh. You didn’t answer but nodded in response.

“What’s your name,” Steve pushed. You shook your head ironically.

“(Y/N) Stark,” you said, and looked back up to meet his eyes, “I could never forget.”

Steve nodded, sitting back in the chair and motioned a hand to you, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly, but I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You asked. Steve didn’t reply to this, instead he threw a glance at the two way mirror as if searching his reflection for an answer. You moved to criss cross your legs to sit more comfortably, and grabbed the pillow to place in your lap. Steve’s eyes met yours again but this time they looked different. 

They looked vulnerable. You inhaled and sighed deeply and cast your eyes down to the ground, and Steve leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. He wanted to show he was listening and that you could trust him, but a part of him knew that you may not feel that right now, but he wanted someone else to know that. Someone on the other side of the glass. The two people in this quiet room had the same objective. They wanted to show Tony that they could be strong for him.

[soranihimawari]

running at 6a.m.

word count: 3.5k

random, but can you believe i haven’t written for hanamaki yet, @oikawa-obvs​? tagging: @m0nstergeneration20xx​ [youse all gotta thank them for this one, fr fr]

warnings: new neighbor x makki// seijoh 3rd years x baffoonery// slightly suggestive scenes [pg 13 recommended] // rated W for woo! 

<< |masterlist| >>

Of all the times in your high school career, you did not think you’d find yourself waking up before the sun when your neighbor called you at 5:45a.m. one weekend. Your neighbor, time and time again, has been trying your patience recently seeing that his sports club was asking for extra volunteers around this time of year for the conditioning exercises. Granted, your school was considered a powerhouse all because of one high caliber setter, and now you found yourself fumbling around your bed trying to ignore the chiming ringtone of your phone. Your eyes squint to readjust for the brightness of your Do Not Disturb setting to see the fourth missed call from him. You slide your finger in an attempt to unlock your phone the second time and redial the number.

“Morning ichigo no kori,” you state rather flatly. You knew the Hanamakis ever since you moved to this neighborhood to be closer to your high school after you had convinced your uncle and aunt to let them use their spare bedroom in the loft attachment of their town house. Your father was not shocked by this development in the slightest since he did lay out some ground rules between all parties involved. You did come from a single parent household, but given the fact the company your father worked for had a position opening up overseas in the Hong Kong office, you spoke at length about how you didn’t want to move right away due to your third year at aoba josai was about to begin again.Thus here you were, three months later, laying down in a comfortable full bed hoping neither of your guardians stirred from their slumber.

“Strawberry ice?” hanamaki was amused by this development. 

He remembered the day you moved because the moving truck was pretty hard to miss; his friends from the volleyball club were walking back from the convenience store with snacks only stopping briefly to ask if he knew about the family that lived there:

“You mean Kurarun-san?” hanamaki asked. He shrugged his shoulder explaining shortly thereafter he didn’t know them very well, but maybe his mom did. She was always seen talking about her day (the daily gossip) with the wife of the homeowner. “I don’t think they had kids.”

“You might be wrong about that,” his friend in arms, mattsukawa, mentions as his eyes wondered to where you were standing. Your arms folded over your chest observing the movers lower the ramp to the pavement. Now considering you were raised by your father, it didn’t surprise your uncle and aunt to say the very least, you grew up learning how to fix dirtbikes one summer with him. Your father taught you everything there was to known about rebuilding a motorcycle from spare parts, which to be fair, was a huge bonus to the quartet of volleyball boys across the way.

“Be careful with that! I built that bike from the ground up, ok?” you instructed sternly, lending a hand to the movers who nodded grateful you were there to help them when the bike teetered too far to one side. Your aunt came out of the garage clasping your shoulder when the bike was securely out and off the ramp.

“Oh wow, that’s a gorgeous bike dear,” your aunt smiled. “You going to take it out for a spin later?”

“Yep! Right after the movers leave for the day,” you said. Your smile did not go unnoticed by the boys who not only stopped to look, but now were staring at you. It was 16:24 (4:24p.m.) when Hanamaki Takahiro first fell in love with you.

True to your word you went out the rest of the week running errands for your hosts (did a little grocery shopping while wearing your favorite backpack) on Monday, then on Tuesday you took a little joyride to the library to familiarize yourself with the layout of the neighborhood, by Thursday you already knew the earliest and latest time you should be out the door to make it to campus, so by Saturday, you were free to help with the chores around the house. It was the same day your aunt had planned a special dinner with her neighborhood best girl friend, Hanamaki-sama, as you affectionately called her. You aunt reminded you to go start cleaning up after your uncle returned from buying the last of the ice cream pops at the store down the block. You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jean shorts paired with a royal blue loose fitting dri-fit longsleeve v-neck. You wandered into the kitchen wearing ankle socks covered by your house slippers. You were tasked with setting the table trying to get a sneak peak at the hot pot dinner your aunt was stirring. After shooing you away with a short laugh, you took a glass out of the dishwasher drying rack and poured yourself some water. 

“Hanamaki-sama is bringing her son along too,” your aunt said, silently gauging how you’d react. You just sipped your water with a curt nod pretending to simmer down your nerves. Was her son older than you? Younger? Was he nice? Etc. 

“Apparently you’re going to be in the same year when the school year starts,” your uncle’s voice echoed from the living room. He shut off the television to join you two in the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

DING DONG DING

“Looks like they’re here,” your uncle said, holding on to your glass for you. “Why don’t you let them in.”

You nodded, brushing your stray bangs behind your ear. With a soft sigh escaping your lips, you opened the door with a swift turn of the nob.

“My my, dearie, aren’t you gorgeous,” hanamaki’s mother greeted you tapping your arm gently. Hanamaki on the other hand, for as tall and lanky as he seemed, he seemed a bit lackadaisical upon seeing your bright smile greet them at the door. He held a small bowl that was filled with tri colored popcorn with a thin cellophane cover on top. The snack was his idea because he had heard his mother speak to your aunt at length candidly mentioning how you would watch home movies with your father’s family every weekend until you started primary school.

“Hello to you too hana-sama,” you reply motioning her to come in. Then you notice her son with strawberry blond hair walking in behind her. He had dressed a little bit more formal like how he would on days leading up to an official match (solid color slacks and relaxed-fit printed shirt with a small moogen [infinity symbol] embroidered on the left sleeve) “And you must be…”

“Hanamaki Takahiro, but you can call me Makki,” he says when you close the door behind them. 

“I saw you at the store the other day buying some popcorn,“ Hanamaki-san mentions when she hands you her light jacket to hang. “You know how we talk, anyways, your aunt told me how much you like bite size chocolate squares in your popcorn I heard.”

Makki says nothing when your eyes glance toward the bowl. You had a full conversation with him when you two kept looking at each other. Your aunt had washed her hands and joined you as she and Hanamaki’s mother exchanged casual greetings as they headed to the dining area; your uncle was giving the curry a final stir. You and Makki were thankfully, left to your own devices and my gods did you two relish in it. 

Earlier that afternoon, he was speaking at length about his mother had been invited over to their neighbor’s house. It wasn’t the first time Makki had come over before, yet he had trouble easing his nerves because you were also going to be there. Makki paced back and forth trying “to get his shit together” while the company he kept on call was chuckling in what would certainly be an entertaining story for future reference.

“Makki, if you don’t date her at some point in the first quarter of the year, i will gladly dote on her out of my own free will,” Mattsun meant well, but at the same time, Makki knew the threat was an empty one. He was on a video call with his friends who shared the same sentiment as Mattsun. Soon the time approached for when his mother told him about the dinner party at your place. 

“Listen Takahiro, take it from me,” Oikawa says. “Treat Mattsun’s words as not necessarily a threat, but more of a firestarter.”

“Makki!” his mother’s voice calls from the otherside of his closed door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

He ends the call after his teammates hang up.

--

The cold piece of technological glass rubbed against your warm cheek. With your eyes closed, you recalled hearing OIkawa and Iwazumi remind the other two to spread the word to their juniors to start their conditioning regiment this upcoming weekend. Be it as it may, Makki took this opportunity to ask you if you wanted to be his running partner (this was a trap his other friends laid out for him since they’re trying their best not to meddle too much in your private affairs). 

You grumbled into your receiver imploring your neighbor to reconsider waking you up this early for a morning run. You left a note on the kitchen counter next to the landline in case your guardians woke up ahead of you to discover your now empty bed. Stifling a yawn, you meet Makki at your front door, dressed in a light jacket and a pair of running shorts. Your shoes weren’t in the best condition for running, rather, they were an old pair you didn’t mind using for this house call.

“Who runs at 6a.m. on a regular basis?” you ask him with a coy smile.

“Psychopaths and,” he holds your hand to steady yourself when you step down from the ledge of your short walkway. Makki lets go of your hand for a second to whisper an alternative answer. “Lovers.”

“Oh,” you tease, poking his cheek. An amused smile tugged your lips upward which you did not bother hiding. “Of course.”

“You don’t have to sound so annoyed by it, chisana josei.” 

Makki had since insisted on giving you the nickname because it was what his other three cohorts dubbed you one evening when you came over to return something your aunt borrowed from Hanamaki’s mother.

“Makki, who’s at the--oh hello there chisana josei,” the charming boy wearing an alien lime colored shirt and pearl sweatpants peered around the corner of the living room. You were reluctantly (read as invited inside) to disrupt the boys only sleepover being conducted at the Hanamaki household. 

“She’s cute Makki,” another disembodied voice, this time it was much deeper, spoke up this time. His curious eyes wandered up and down, yet although you were fully clothed, you felt entirely skyclad by the giant. You laughed a little bit at the compliment. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m cute,” you said when you ceased laughing, handing Makki the bowl and other tupperware you aunt borrowed from his mother a few nights ago. Makki quirked his brow at his two friends, sighing at their comments and for a split second, you saw his bottom lip jut out in a slight pout. 

“Oikawa, Mattsun, shut up,” he stated praying Iwazumi would at least straighten them out later. Unfortunately for Makki, Iwazumi was game in making his friend sweat a little bit because so far, you were able to refuse both Oikawa and Mattsukawa’s praises/favors.

“Oh ho ho,” you observed the last member of the trio to speak up. “And what would you describe yourself as anyway? It’s not like Makki to keep such a pretty secret from his friends.”

“Not you too Iwa-chan,” lime green sweater guy whined. 

“Are you three always like this to every girl or is it just the ones that don’t like you?” your eyes glazed over and Makki didn’t want to admit it, but you definitely telegraphed that you were angry. Iwazumi realized this as soon as he found himself face to face with your shorter stature defiantly staring up at him. The other boys watching the silent argument continue before Makki calmly told you they were just messing with you. Introductions and apologies were exchanged as soon as your stubbornness subsided when the four boys surrounded you rather quickly at the hallway of Makki’s front door. If it weren’t for the fact that each of them had a qualm of serenity, charisma, and stealth boosted up by plus 10, you would have challenged them to a simple game of chess. Then again, they were literal pillars loyal to the princely type who bestowed upon you your nickname.

“If they really wanted to ruffle my feathers,” you begin to say, crossing your arms over your chest opening. “They’d form a reverse harem and vie for my attention. You included Makki. I’ll see myself out.”

“I-wait, what?!” Makki finally had heard enough. 

“I have spoken,” you mentioned over your shoulder looking at his confused expression. “I’ll let you know when I’m back home. Have fun boys.”

You shut the front behind you, shaking your head whilst casting a glance to the heavens above, grinning like a wild cat.

“That went well, don’t you think?” OIkawa said, returning to his spot on the couch. “Makki, what’s with that look?” 

Mattsun and Iwazumi both shrugged when dragging their host back toward the kitchen area to gage how their friend suddenly realized something right then and there. It was 21:07 when Mattsun and Iwazumi realized their friend was in like with someone a month before their third year would commence. 

“I like her,” Makki found his voice suddenly and Oikawa had a large smile on his face. 

“Stage five, acceptance,” Mattsun states before he blocks a throw pillow aimed at his direction. Iwazumi shakes his head before laughing at the strawberry blonde’s luck.

--

When you two round the corner of your block for the fourth time, you slowed your pace while Makki turned around and began running backwards facing you. Sweat covered both of you in a glowing sheer shine as the sun was ever presently rising. 

“Slowing down already?” Makki taunted. 

“I’m not the one on the school’s volleyball team,” you explained in between your short breaths. “You submit your body to this kind of torture willingly and call it conditioning training?” 

He stopped jogging backwards for a second, instead opting to walk briskly toward you when he noticed your breathing becoming more steady. Makki might always be the first to challenge Iwazumi to an arm wrestling match and really gets along well with reading Mattsun’s expressions, but he was always reliable in helping keep Oikawa’s personality in check right behind the aforementioned. 

“Pretty much, chisana josei. C’mon,” he knelt down with his back toward you signaling to get on. You gladly accepted the piggy back ride on these mornings. It was the top reason why you didn’t mind the morning calls as much anymore. 

“I’m not too heavy for you?” you ask sheepishly, wrapping your arms around Makki’s shoulders when he stood up. 

“For the nth time, y/n, you’re not.” He shifted his arms underneath your knees, locking you in place after allowing you to shift your weight a little bit for comfort. 

“Ready when you are,” your breath fans across the back of his neck, causing his usually smooth spun cotton candy colored baby hairs to spike up. You pretended to not notice how pink his cheek was when you raised your head a short distance while he began his cooldown lap.

“Thank you Takahiro,” you say in a hazy tone, resting your head against his shoulder once again. He muttered a quiet “no problem,” internally screaming at himself for trying to not to die from the way he fell harder for you with every step he took. 

Makki glanced down a few minutes later, being greeted by your peaceful sleeping expression when he woke you up again arriving at his place once again; he was too proud to admit you were rather clingy as you got more drowsy during the third time you were invited to a film night. 

By this point, you had been living with your aunt and uncle for a week and a half, which in of itself was a delight for them. Yet it was rather treacherous for you because since the night you returned Makki’s bowls, you were often found crossing paths with either Oikawa, Mattsukawa, and/or Iwazumi. Sometimes Makki was with them or more often than nought, the boys were alone. Considering that the market was exactly in the center part of all your places of residence, the probability was rather high.

However, as a sign of good faith, OIkawa, with Makki’s blessing apparently a detail you were not aware of at the time, invited you to come along for a movie marathon the week before his birthday. Unbeknownst to you, as your eyes continued to droop during movie five of the line up, Makki froze when you decided to snatch one of the spare pillows from Oikawa’s sofa and used it as a buffer to rest your weary head on your neighbor’s lap. The boys were howling behind their eyes as they watched their friend finally succumb to the one time their newly appointed token girl friend had Makki wrapped around her finger by the simplest gesture the minute he started running his fingers through your hair. 

“Aaand here I thought Makki wasn’t going to get any sort of affection from a girl this year,” Oikawa teased. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy the movie,” Makki retorted. The other two in the living room sharing the couch with you and Makki noticed your childlike grin fade the deeper you fell asleep to the soundtrack of the movie.

Now you were sleeping again, tugging on Makki’s shirt instead, burrowing your head in between his shoulder blades causing his heart to jump to his throat. 

“Mmm, don’t want to go,” you mumbled. “Too early.” He found the spare key where his mom usually left it (in the rain gutter above the door frame) and opened his front door with ease; he coughed to clear his throat.

“OK,” was all Makki could say in the front of his peaceful hallway, kicking off his running shoes before entering the rest of his house. Upon reaching his room, he left the door slightly ajar as he laid your groggy self down on his bed. He was about to tuck you in after tracing your prominent features with his index finger, leaving a message on your cheek: “I like you my chisana josei.”

“Me too, ichigo no kori,” you murmur as you stifle a yawn, prying one eye opened allowing your selfish need to see Makki’s face turn to stone.

You pull yourself high enough to bump the tip of your nose with his, causing your lips to briefly brush past his own. Immediately upon receiving said peck, Makki regained his composure rather quickly allowing his hands to find their way on to your shoulders pulling your lips back on to his again. Her lips always looked so inviting, plump and deliciously filled with the right amount of venom and sugar, Makki thought. You inhaled a sharp breath. There was a growing rhythm between you two within the fleeting seconds you counted in your head.

“Mmph~!” you nodded in a miniscule way to keep Makki setting the pace your body reacting to the way Makki’s hand openly traced over the exposed parts of you; you cautiously looping your arms propelling him forward. Makki crawled back onto his bed the moment he guided you back down amongst the wrinkling sea of the bedding; his body now hovered above you with knees on either side of you, thus caging you beneath him. You pulled away first, revealing a hauntingly entancing smile. 

Makki’s face seemed a bit more flushed than when you started running your regular route less than forty-five minutes ago. 

“Now look who’s the breathless one,” you chastised your host in a cheeky manner. 

For the first time since July, Makki really studied your features, trying to commit every imperfection to memory tethering it to this love-drum beating in his chest. You laid there surrounded by the dark gray and black undertones of the surrounding pillows, your attire cascading a holographic reflection of the ever rising sun, illuminating your figure. Makki was the only one who got to baskin your natural face with the lack of makeup; your heaving chest; your scar above the bridge of your nose from when a crab nicked you with its claw as a child in the market. Despite your insecurities you told him about one day, returning from the store with him together, Makki saw only beauty. 

He could tell behind the way your pupils were focused on his own, the sun’s rays enhancing his reflection in them that caused his heart to bask in the light of a new day. Makki liked the way your hair was frizzy and tangled from the way his hands tousled it in his hands when he laid you down beneath him. Her hands were strong yet at the same time gentle. And her sweetened lips tasted like spun sugar fresh from the fair. Makki bent down toward your left side and whispered something before he continued to kiss you senseless.

The way I know you relented as Makki played with you hair and held you tighter and tighter, was something you craved, even if you weren’t pondering it before, you returned the seemingly unspoken gesture with a similar kindness. 

You cradled Makki’s face in your hands, pushing back his saccharinely hued textured hair again, asking him to catch his breath for a moment, synching his breathing with yours.

“C’mon Takahiro, b r e a t h e,” you advise, your eyebrows added to your pleading, moving one of your hands to rest against the middle of his chest tapping your fingertips lightly against his chest. You took advantage of this tonal shift; using your lower body to coerce his in switching positions with him. You were now the one hovering him, your hair undone, snuffing out the morning’s rays eagerly trying to sneak their way through the blinds of Makki’s room. This was not how either of you thought running at six in the morning would have ended, yet here you both were caught in the throes of your own summer enquinoxal love. Whether you two would want this to continue was entirely up to the two of you. 

As Makki’s breathing finally returned to his resting rhythym, you allowed his hand to caress the side of your face, tucking a few long strands of hair behind your ear. 

“My pretty chisana josei,” he said in the lowest register of his voice. “Finally.”

“...call me that again,” your voice has a slight lilt in it when you sigh. “I need to get used to it.”

Your natural smile could rattle the stars and Makki was determined to make sure not only knew that, his friends in arms also knew it too.

“Mine,” Makki said looking away like a child about to get scolded. 

“Uh-huh,” your retort mixed wonderfully with a chuckle harmonizing the two. You release him from your hold, checking the time on the analog clock when you quietly lept off his bed. “Get some sleep dear one; you earned your keep.” 

You tapped your fingers over your lips glancing at Makki long enough to watch him bring an arm over his eyes. Literal steam could have been escaping his ears with how your taunts drove him mad.

It was 06:59 when y/n and Hanamaki decided this was when you truly loved another.

--weekend messaging rates apply--

Suffice to say you made a mental note to make good on your word, but opted to maintain the peace seeing him outside with said dessert with a grin. 

[ktrivia]

All Men Dream

Bucky x Reader

Summary:

Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?

Author’s Notes:

If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!

Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, suggestions, and theories!

Chapter 3

Bucky’s POV

               What woke me up was not another nightmare, but the sun. I blinked awake with squinted eyes as sunlight poured through the gap in the drapes that I never closed. There was no reason to close them, I woke up before sun rise everyday anyway. Slight confusion filled me as I pondered having slept all night, but it was overridden by the feeling of restfulness. Stretching my arms above my head, I enjoyed the sensation of being well-rested, but I still couldn’t figure out why.

               I tried to remember what I dreamed about, and Central Park filled my head. I had looked at ponds full of lily pads, walked around in awe of the greenery, eating a hot dog from a food stand, briefly looked for Y/N-

               My thoughts cut of as Y/N reached my consciousness and the nightmare from before the park rushed me. Why was she there? Why had she helped me? Or at least what I could only assume was helping. As much as Steve believed this woman had evil intentions, something in me was disagreeing with his assessment. While I still didn’t like the idea of someone entering my mind, there was something else to this story than I knew. All I knew was that I needed to talk to her.

               Turning over, I looked at the clock next to my bed and saw it was 9am. I jumped up and bolted from my room, knowing Steve and Natasha were probably already in the interrogation room. As I turned down the hallway to the kitchen, I spotted them at the table talking and eating breakfast. Slowing my stride, I contemplated what to tell them as I approached. The two noticed me about the same time. Steve had a small smile on his face as he placed the newspaper he’d been skimming down.

               “Wow, this must be a new record for you sleep wise. Came to get you for our run this morning and you were still out. Did you just wake up?” Steve asked.

               “Uh yeah. I had a good dream for once.” I explained as I went to the kitchen to get my normal cereal.

               “What’d you dream about Barnes?” Natasha questioned in between bites of bacon.

               “Central Park from the 40s,” I replied while looking at Steve for a reaction to the setting of the dream. His face scrunched a little.

               “Huh. I had a dream about that a week ago. Ate a mean hot dog from a guy selling them there.” He responded. So, Y/N had really taken me to a setting from one of Steve’s dreams. That confirmed she had gone into both of our heads, but not didn’t answer the question of why. I sat down at the table with my bowl of cereal and began eating. Cereal had gotten so much better since I was a kid. Artificial flavoring was a damn godsend. After taking a couple bites I spoke.

               “So, what’s the plan with dream girl?”

               “That’s what we were just talking about,” Natasha said. “Got any ideas?”

               “Yeah. Let me talk to her.” I replied calmly. Steve’s expression immediately switched to one of surprise and even Natasha reacted by raising an eyebrow at my declaration.

               “Buck, are you sure that’s a good idea? She goes into people’s minds every night without their permission.” Steve asked softly.

               “I’m not asleep and so far, I’m the only one who has been any semblance of ‘nice’ to her,” I explained while using finger quotes around the word nice. “She’ll be expecting the two of you to walk in, but I’ll be a surprise and hopefully catch her off guard.” And hopefully get her to tell me the real reason she’d been in my dream. Nat and Steve looked at each other and had another one of their stupid telepathic conversations. I didn’t know when they became able to have these silent conversations, but they annoyed the hell out of me.

               “Ok,” Steve said before added a quick addition to it. “But we have to be in the viewing room at all times that you’re in there.” I huffed at the overprotectiveness but knew why he was treating the situation this way. If I had told him Y/N had been in my dream, he would have her sent to The Raft immediately with some horrific way to keep her from entering anyone’s dreams. I wasn’t sure if she deserved that treatment yet, but if she did, I’d be the first one to sign the paperwork.

________________________________________________________________

Reader’s POV

               The night, or at least what I assumed was the night, dragged on. After I woke up from Bucky’s dream I hadn’t been able to fall asleep again. Most of the reason for that was my fear of accidentally jumping into another Avenger’s dream. Bucky in his near catatonic state may be slightly forgiving if he remembered his dream when he woke up, but others probably would not be. My shoulders had begun to hurt hours ago from being bound to the chair and my legs kept falling asleep from the lack of movement. My ass hurt too which was just the icing on the cake. My throat had dried out hours ago and swallowing became a struggle. Stomach rumblings had been the only sound for a while but they stopped a couple hours ago.

               I considered who would even realize I was missing. My parents didn’t call often, and we had spoken a few days prior, so they wouldn’t be trying to contact me. My few friends were out of town to avoid the hot New York summer. Maybe my boss would notice, but he’d probably just fire me before questioning where I was. Really the only living thing concerned about where I was would be Meatball, but that was probably just because he was hungry. Shit. I really hope that brown ball of fluff breaks the rules and eats something on the counter.

               I jumped in the chair when the door swung open. Moving so suddenly caused my aching muscles to scream as they performed any bit of motion. A groan escaped me as I tried to relax in the chair slightly. In the doorway stood Bucky Barnes. A blank expression covered his face, and while I could read others well, I couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. He shut the door behind him and made his way to stand in front of me, then crouch down to my eye level.

               “I’ve disabled the microphones in here, but it won’t take long for the others to figure out how to fix them, so answer quick. Why were you in my head last night?” He questioned in a softer than usual voice. The slight kindness from yesterday was gone, and I feared my actions from the night before were not being perceived well. On the other hand, I wondered why he didn’t tell the others about me being in his head.

               “It’s like I told you. I fell asleep last night, and I must have been thinking about you right before, so I accidentally ended up in your dream. It wasn’t on purpose I swear.” I explained again.

               “Why were you thinking about me?”

               “I’m locked in this room alone. I was running through everyone I’d met, and you were the nicest, so it must have left a decent enough imprint to send me to your dream.” I tried to explain. Blue eyes changed slightly into what I could only interpret as a contemplative expression.

               “Why did you change the nightmare? Why not let it continue and just jump out of the dream when you could?”

               “You were scared. Really, really terrified. I hate seeing anyone look that way. So, when you agreed to let me untie you from that chair, I knew I had to do something to make it better.” I paused for a moment before speaking again. “We all have to deal with enough horrors in our waking lives. We shouldn’t have to experience them in our dreams too.”

               Bucky stayed silent for what felt like hours, but really could only have been minutes. He opened his mouth to ask another question but shut it quickly.

               “Hey Buck, the microphones were off for a minute there. You ok?” Steve’s voice asked while echoing through the room.

               “All good,” Bucky replied. With a quick warning glance to me, he started a new line of questioning.

               “Who do you work for?”

               “No one. At least no super villains. I literally work, as in a nine to five job, for a dick named Greg, but that’s marketing work and he doesn’t even pay me enough for that.” I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I had begun rambling. Bucky’s lips quirked a little before he continued.

               “Why were you in Steve’s dreams?”

               “The 40s, at least the way they were in his dreams, were really fun. I liked going to eat at an ice cream parlor or go dancing. It was a completely different world than the one I experience every day and I wanted to see it more. It’s like a Disney movie in his head.” Bucky let out a quiet laugh before composing himself again.

               “He does like Disney movies a lot but that’s a different conversation,” He explained while looked pointedly at the glass like he was looking at Steve. “Why did you go into his dream in the first place?”

               “I had been in some famous people’s dreams before, so I knew distance didn’t matter, but I didn’t know if him being a super person would keep me from being there. Originally, it was just a personal test to see if I could get in there, but I liked them, and I kept going back.”

               “And you realize if we find out you’re lying, there will be hell to pay?” He questioned with a cold look.

               “Yes,” I replied immediately. “I promise I’m not lying. I don’t know how to prove that but I’m not.” Bucky was silent again as he seemed to ponder something.

               “Can you bring someone with you when you dream walk, as you call it?” His question took me aback and it was a moment before I spoke again.

               “I’ve never tried it. I don’t think I could bring someone with me, but I could possibly enter two people’s consciousnesses at once.” My mind began racing with the possibilities of being in two people’s minds. Would they enter a joint dream space? Or would it form a strain on me as I existed in two different minds? Bucky asked another question, interrupting my train of thought.

               “Does the person have to be literally sleeping or will just unconscious work?”

               “Uh, they can be just unconscious,” I answered while still focusing on his previous question.

               “Why do you know they can be unconscious and not sleeping in the normal way?” Bucky asked. His voice had taken on a sharper tone and I realized my answer came off with nefarious connotations.

               “It wasn’t a bad reason! My brother was in the hospital after he got hit by a car when we were kids. Thy had him sedated for a couple days to help him heal and I would go hang out in his head to keep him company.”

               “Does your family know about this ability?”

               “No. My brother and parents wrote his dreams off as a side effect of the concussion he had.”

               Bucky nodded once, stood there for a moment longer, and then left the room. As the door shut behind him, my hope of going home after this ordeal quickly drained. I didn’t know what decision he’d made, but I was worried. After ten minutes of tense silence, the door opened again. Bucky stood there, and I could see Steve behind him with a strained expression.

               “You’re going to go into my head, but someone else is coming with me.”

Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):

@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina 

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

[crzcorgi]

  A Dream Come True

My first attempt at a RPF! I love Norman, but am nowhere near an expert on him, like I am with Jeffrey. 😜 So excuse my writing of him.

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader x Norman Reedus

Word count ~ 3500

Warnings- a few swears, reader talks sex, nothing else in this part.

Tags~ @stileswolfi @magikat409 @jasoncrouse @nothin-after-79 @magpiegirl80  @omgitss0y @binegan @metal-xo @mypopculturediva @angelofthenite

 This was all new. A convention wasn’t anything I had ever experienced , especially one specifically for The Walking Dead, one of my all time favorite television shows. I always thought those conventions were for hardcore, borderline crazy, fans. Yet here I am, packing for my flight to Atlanta.

 I went all out, purchasing the most expensive “platinum” weekend tickets, I even booked the hotel that I had heard the celebrity guests were staying at. Only place I “skimped” on was buying only photo ops and autographs for my two guys, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Norman Reedus.

 Now, any so-called “normal” person would have bought one or two of each, but how could I only do one? This was a once in a lifetime experience, I might never do it again. So, I said “screw it” and bought 3 photo ops with Jeff, 3 with Norman and 2 with both of them together, the one I was looking forward to the most. Yeah, I honestly am not ashamed to admit that I, a grown woman, had a grown up sized crush on both amazingly handsome men.

 My flight and cab ride to the hotel were uneventful, but I was beyond exhausted from just the stress of making sure I had packed right, that I had, in fact, remembered my tickets. And the stress from stepping so far out of my comfort zone. When I reached my room, which was spectacular, I spotted the jacuzzi tub, what better way to relax!

 As I stepped into the waiting water, sinking into the luxurious hot bubbles, I couldn’t help but giggle, thinking how this tub could easily fit 3, even with my few extra pounds. I tried not to think about the “other 2”  that could be with me, don’t be silly! I kept saying to myself. But how could I not picture them?! Closing my eyes, I could almost feel the hard, broad chest behind me, the tiny chest hairs tickling. His arms coming around to grasp my breasts, tweaking each nipple, quickly hardening into small peaks. Another pair of hands dipping below the bubbling water, finding my overheated core, one, two fingers entering, a thumb flicking my sensitive nub.

 After enjoying a wonderful daydream, I unfortunately had to finish up what my mind had started. I then decided to head right to bed after such an exhausting day.

 After a wonderful night’s rest, I woke up to the sun shining through the thin curtains. But who could sleep anyway? I was excited for the day ahead. Although, excited was such an understatement, I would say I was more ecstatic, delirious, floating on cloud 9. And nervous, definitely nervous. Would I be able to speak? What if I clammed up when it came time for my ops? What if I just stood there like an idiot? Or worse yet, fainted?

 No, no, I refuse to think like that! It will go fine, I won’t make a complete idiot of myself. They’re only human beings, just like me. Human beings, maybe, although I had questioned a few times on rather they were indeed “Gods” not mere humans. If not gods, then at the very least breathtakingly beautiful creatures made by gods.

 After a quick breakfast at the hotel, I made my way to the convention center, which was attached to the hotel. I. thought, perfect if I need to make a quick getaway!

 My first op was a photo with Jeffrey, but it wasn’t for a couple more hours, so I decided to just roam the vendor floor, checking out the various shops and artists, I was hoping to find something to have signed. I found posters, figures, buttons, pins, t-shirts, just a massive sea of every imaginable TWD souvenir. But I finally settled on a Negan tee for Jeff to sign and the same for Norman, except of course, it was a Daryl tee.

 Soon enough it was time for my photo op with Jeffrey. As I made my way towards the room where the ops were, I started to sweat, fuck, definitely not the time for this! Breath girl! Breath!  Okay, I can do this.

 As I stood in line, I was rehearsing what I would say to Jeffrey in my head, “I’m such a big fan!” “Thank you so much for being here for your fans!” “You’re such a wonderful actor!” Oh lord, can I do this?

 “You’re next!” The volunteer led me to the curtain, the curtain that Jeffrey was standing behind. Oh god!

 As I stepped through the curtain, I swear, it was as if someone had knocked the wind out of me. There he stood, so very much more handsome than I could have ever imagined. As he said goodbye to the person in front of me, the volunteer was gently pushing me towards him while saying something to me. Something that I didn’t, couldn’t , comprehend. I was in shock.

 It must have been obvious, as Jeffrey suddenly took a hold of my arms, pulling me into a hug. I wasn’t aware of what was going on, where I was, I was in utter shock.

 “You okay, sweetheart?” Jeffrey whispered into my hair. I could feel his warm breath on my head, his large hands gently rubbing my back. But I couldn’t speak, all I could do, was doing, was nuzzle my face into his warm, welcoming chest.

 I heard voices, felt a gentle push, realizing that I was moving. But where? And then it hit me, my op was over and I screwed up. I couldn’t help it when the tears began to flow, not those pretty little ones that flow delicately down your cheeks. No, I was weeping, big fat streams of water flowing down my face.

 Someone helped me sit down, then took a hold of my hands, making a shushing sound. Wait a minute?! That voice?! My god. I opened my eyes, which had been previously closed tightly, to look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that I had been dreaming about for far too long.

 “Uh, I'm…so sorry!” It was all I could say. I was now hiccuping, trying to calm myself to no avail.

 Crouching down in front of me, Jeffrey brought one hand up to wipe the tears off my cheek. “You kinda freaked me out in there darling, thought you were going to faint.”

 I tried to speak, but all I could do was hiccup. “I…really am…sorry…so sorry!” I just wanted a giant sinkhole to appear suddenly and swallow me up. My nightmare, not my dream, was coming true.

 He smiled at me, that gorgeous smile. “Stop apologizing, beautiful, there’s no need!” Did he just call me beautiful?! “Look, they are hounding me to finish the photos, so I gotta go. But, I want to make sure you’re doing okay. Where are you staying?”

 I was able to stutter out that I had a room at the adjoining hotel.

 “Perfect! It’s where we’re staying. We should be finished here around 9. How about we meet up at the bar, I’ll buy you a drink, get to know you, I gotta make sure you’re okay after this. I’ll have someone come to your room to get you. Sound good darling?”

 Did Jeffrey Dean Morgan just invite me to drinks? Am I hallucinating?

 “That…sounds nice, thank you. But you…must be so busy?”

 “Nah, after hours is all mine, I had no plans until I was l lucky enough to have a crazy beautiful woman fall into my arms.” He winked, at me, then turned to head back to where the photos were being taken, looking over his shoulder. “So, you take care sweetheart, drink some water, get some rest. And I’ll see you at 9.” You could have knocked me over when he blew a kiss at me, disappearing behind the curtain.

 “Whoa, you are soo beyond lucky, girl! I mean, OMG!” A woman, I assumed was a volunteer, came over and sat in the chair next to me.

 “Yeah, I guess. Everything just happened so fast. I don’t even remember it all.” I just kind of shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

 “He invited you to drinks! I mean, I’ve been volunteering at these cons for a couple of years and I have never seen, or heard, of that happening!”

 “Wow, okay.” I was beginning to think I was, in fact, hallucinating. “I guess I should go back to the hotel, I’m not sure I’m quite over the excitement.” I let out a small laugh, then attempted to stand only to fall back down.

 “Oh, careful there! Let me see if someone can help you. You’re staying at the connected hotel, correct?”

 I said yes, staying seated. This was all definitely becoming impossibly out of my comfort zone for sure.

 Soon, a couple more volunteers came over, one offering to take me back to my room. Arriving back to the hotel, I thanked them and went inside. Flopping down on my bed, I pulled out my phone, checking out my messages and social media.

 As exhausted as I was, I thought it might be a good idea to order some food, so I called room service. After eating, I laid down, still trying to take in what happened. I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes the sun had set.

 Jumping up quickly, I checked my phone for the time. Good god it was 8:15! I ran like a rabbit to the bathroom, stripping down briskly and jumping into the shower. After a hurried shower, I pulled out the only dress I brought, thinking how lucky I was that it didn’t need ironing. Rummaging through my bag I also found a matching set of underwear, thanking the gods that I had them.

 Hastily pulling on my panties and matching bra, I looked in the full length mirror. Not bad, I am far from model thin, but gentlemen do prefer curves. I snickered to myself. As I pulled the dress over my head it hit me. I’m getting ready for drinks with Jeffrey Dean Morgan. And as much as I wanted to scream it from the rooftops, I knew no one would believe me!

 I did my hair in a loose updo, my makeup light. I didn’t want to look like I tried to hard. I put on my red heels that I always bring with me, cause you never know when you’ll need a pair of sexy heels.

I sat at the table, tapping my fingertips. It was 8:55 and I was getting more and more nervous. Breath, breath, BREATH!

 Then came a knock. I stood up, hoping I could walk without shaking, I made my way over to the door, a quick glance at my reflection, happy with what I saw. I answered without checking the peephole, knowing it must be whoever Jeffrey sent to pick me up.

 But it wasn’t, and my mouth dropped. It was Jeffrey himself and I was in shock, simply dumbfounded.

 “Well, hello hello! You look amazing! Guess you’re doing better?” He held his arms open, inviting me into a hug.

 But I couldn’t move.

 “Come ‘ere, I don’t bite, and I took a shower so no more stinky sweat!” He laughed, good god that laugh. And I felt a damp sensation that truly could have waited.

 I was able to toddle forward enough to practically fall into his arms. Oh no, he smelled soooo good, felt so warm, so inviting.

 “See? No smell, right?” And he laughed again, the whole body kind, sending wonderful vibrations right to my core.

 “Hmmmhhmm!” He had his face in my hair, my hair. I could feel his hot breath moving little whisps of it. “Nice shampoo!” Oh god.

 As much as I wanted to stay like this, his arms around me, my face against his chest, feeling his warmth, his essence, hearing his heartbeat steady and slow, so unlike my own. But this was awkward, I was awkward, and I didn’t want him calling security on me.

 Stepping back, I smoothed my dress down nervously, knowing I should be looking up but not able to. Suddenly I felt his hand on my chin, lifting it gently.

 “Hey, don’t get all shy on me sweetheart! Downstairs you weren’t so bashful, practically throwing yourself at me!” That hearty, deep laugh.

 Looking up into his eyes, were they green, brown, hazel?, I felt like I was being hypnotized, I almost couldn’t look away. “I’m sorry, it’s just, this is so not something I’m used to.”

 “Hey, sweetheart, no need to be nervous around me! I’m just a regular Joe, or Jeff as this case may be!” Another glorious laugh. I was dead or nearly dead.

 He moved his hand down, taking a hold of mine, and leading us to the elevators. “So, do you come to these cons every year? I’ve been to quite a few different ones, but let me tell you, these fuckers are the best! The fans, the guests, it’s like a big ass party!”

 “This is actually my first one that’s specifically for the Walking Dead. And the first time I’ve gone alone.”

 Just then the elevator arrived and Jeff held the door open for me as I stepped inside.

 “So, all alone? No friends that are fans? No husband, boyfriend?” I could see him glancing at my hand for a ring.

 “Nope, my friends aren’t really into the same things as me, I’m considered the geek of the group.” I giggled, feeling just a bit more at ease in his presence.

 “Aww, not a geek, just a girl with great taste in shows. And actors!” He smiled, showing those damn dimples.

As the elevator came to a stop and the door opened, Jeff placed his arm around my waist, leading us out into the lobby.

 “The bar’s right over here, and as much as I love the fans, let’s move fast so I don’t get stopped.” I had to practically run to keep up with the long strides his lanky legs made.

 As we entered the bar, he realized I was having trouble because he apologized. “Sorry, sweetheart, I should have just carried you, don’t want you tripping in those sexy shoes.” He winked, his tongue darting over his bottom lip, causing me to rethink my choice of underwear.

 “They saved me a table in the back, hope that’s okay? Thought it would be more private, away from prying eyes and whatnot.” He looked down at me, truly making sure his choice was okay.

 “Uh, yea, yes, of course. I totally understand.”  And he gently placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me over to our table.

 As we sat down in the rounded corner booth, a waitress came right over.

 “So what’ll it be doll? What’s your poison?” Jeffrey asked me.

 “I’ll take a Jack & Coke, please.” I smiled at the waitress, quickly noticing that she wasn’t even paying attention to me, her eyes glued on Jeffrey.

 “So, m’lady will have a Jack & Coke and I’ll have a scotch, neat.” Jeffrey looked down at me, that damn dimpled smile on his face. Sigh.

 After the waitress walked off, hopefully remembering my order, we began chatting. I was feeling more and more relaxed. He truly was “only human” as he pointed out to me. And we had so much in common, it was as if I was talking to an old friend. In time, I found myself closer to him, our legs touching, his arm around my shoulders, his fingers softly rubbing my arm. And I was surprisingly fine with it.

 “Dude! Why didn’t you fucking wake me!”

 It was Norman! Norman Reedus was standing at our table, yelling at Jeffrey.

 “Not your mother bubba, wake your own damn self!” Jeff sat forward, bringing his arm from around my back to grab Norman’s hand.

 “So, is this the beautiful girl you were talkin’ ‘bout?” Norman set his eyes on me, making me start to breath erratic again.

 “Yes, but don’t fucking scare her man, she’s had a rough day.” Jeff turned a bit to face me better, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I couldn’t help but wonder if the hearty alcohol consumption was the cause, but I wasn’t positive.

 “Norman, this is y/n y/ln, y/n, this is Norman.” Norman held his hand out and I reached to shake it. But instead he raised it to his lips, kissing it. Which made a loud giggle to escape me.

 “Don’t let his behavior right now fucking fool you. He isn’t always like this, he’s just tryin’ to impress you.”

 “Fuck you, Morgan.”

 Jeff leaned into me, speaking in a whispered tone right directly into my ear, “see?! He’s just a fucking redneck.” He then laughed, the vibrations shooting right to my overheated core.

 Norman slid into the booth next to me. I was now in between the men that I dreamed of. And instead of freaking out, I,  with a bit of liquor in my system, became brave. Unbelievably fearless.

 “And to think I only came here to meet my two incredibly hot crushes.” I took another sip of my 4th, 5th? drink.

 Jeff leaned into me again, “and who might those lucky fuckers be, doll?”

 Looking over my glass at him, then glancing over at Norman, who had also scooched in closer, I couldn’t stop what came, was coming, out of my mouth.

 Placing my glass down, I lightly tapped both of their arms. “You two, silly!” I started giggling, the alcohol definitely lowering my inhibitions.

 “So, ya think I’m hot sweetheart?” Norman was so close to my face now, I could smell the drink he had just downed, could see the different colors swirling in his breathtaking blue eyes.

 “Uh…” Braver I might have been, but with his face so close, his cologne overpowering my senses. “Yes, yes I do. Hot and sexy as fuck!” I covered my mouth as another fit of giggles started again.

 Suddenly, I felt a hot breath on my neck.

 “She thinks we’re both hot, bubba. Not just you.” Jeffrey growled.

Is this really happening? Are the two hottest guys in the world fighting over me?! Is this the freakin’ Twilight Zone?

 A shiver ran up my spine. I couldn’t control the dirty thoughts that ran through my mind. The things I wanted to do with them, to them.

 “Cold, doll? Maybe we should take this somewhere else, it’s drafty in here and you in that tiny dress. Don’t want you to catch cold!” He pulled me into his side, my head rolling under his chin.

 “That might be nice, I am a bit chilly.” I was thinking we might go to a restaurant or another bar. But I was soon proven wrong when Jeff spoke again.

 “I’ve got a nice suite upstairs, nice lounge area, big screen TV, maybe watch a movie? Sound good, darling?” He rubbed his hand up and down my arm, attempting to warm me up. But good lord, between the alcohol and being fawned over by two magnificent men, I was steamy.

 “So, let’s go! I could stand to kick my boots off, watch a movie.” Norman slide over the bench, standing up and extended his hand towards me.

 I was hesitant to take it, looking towards Jeffrey.

 “Do you want Norman to join us doll? It’s all up to you.” His face so very close to my own, his gorgeous eyes feeling like they were boring into my very soul.

 “Uh, yes?” I could hardly speak, my throat beyond dry.

 “Well, then take my hand darlin’, let’s go!” Norman offered his hand again, this time I took it.

 I scooched across the seat, standing up. I bent over to pick up a fallen napkin when I was gently goosed.

 “Sorry sweetheart, I can’t resist a fine ass.” Norman looked at me with a hint of shyness in his eyes.

Normally I would act like a virginal schoolgirl, but once again my overconsumption of alcohol rears its head.

 “No need to apologize, I like to be manhandled!” Snickering, I stepped towards Jeffrey, smoothing down my dress.

 “Hear that, Sugar?”

 “I most certainly did, Bubba.”

 Then they shared a look, as if they were communicating via telepathy.

 I didn’t know whether to be scared or excited.

 As we made our way to the elevator, I realized I was still holding Norman’s hand, and it felt so right. Jeffrey had placed his hand at the small of my back again, making me feel warm, very warm. Waiting for the elevator no words were spoken, I contemplated what was to come. Were these men just flirting harmlessly? Or was this just the beginning of something so much more?