#which means I’ve gotta get my desk cleaned off so i can pull up the blinds for the cats to look outside

[foundationsofdecay]

Finally we’ve hit the part of the year where the sunlight hits my window in the morning with the brightest prettiest shade of gold

[spacefinch]

Star Wars Rebels Incorrect Quotes

Ezra: *pulls out lightsaber* We have ways of making you talk.

Imperial officer: *nervous*

Ezra: *cuts cake*

Imperial officer: Can I have some?

Kanan: Cake is for talkers.

Mart: Big mood.

Rex: What does that mean?

Mart: Well, it kinda means, like, me too, I guess.

Rex: Thanks kid.

*1 week later at a command briefing*

Commander Sato: I’m kind of worried about this mission.

Rex: Big mood, Commander, big mood.

Sato: Mart, what did you do?

Rebel soldier, throwing a detonator: YEET!

Sato: Excuse me?

Soldier: You see, Mart told me—

Sato: WHEN WILL YOU PEOPLE LEARN?

Inquisitor: IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?

Ezra: Look, I’m 15. I’m trying very hard. You gotta work with me here, bud!

Zeb: Here’s the plan.

Zeb: I go in.

Zeb: I start hitting people hard in the face.

Zeb: And we see where that takes us.

Hera: No.

Kanan: This is not the time for your shenanigans.

Ezra: It was a single shenanigan.

Ezra: I have cat-like reflexes.

Sabine: Prove it.

Ezra: *sees a cat*

Ezra (instantly): I like that cat.

Spaceport desk person: Would a Commander Sato please come to the front desk?

Sato, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Desk person: I believe they belong to you?

Ezra and Sabine, simultaneously: We got lost.

Sato: I didn’t even bring you two here with me.

Ezra: On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if—

Kanan: At least twenty.

Ezra: Oh, just so you know, it’s very muggy outside.

Hera: Ezra, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are there..

Hera: [Gives Zeb the Look of Disappointment]

Zeb: [sips coffee from bowl]

Sabine: [locked up by the Inquisitor]

Sabine: [mockingly] Oh look, I’m the Inquisitor.

Sabine [slips metal pin from boot]: I’m a big scary guy with a red lightsaber.

Sabine: [begins to pick the lock on the cell door] I’m going to hunt down all the Jedi and their rebel friends.

Sabine: Gonna lock up the girl instead of killing her because she’s not really dangerous to my evil master plans.

Sabine: [kicks down the door]: Oops, she got out.

Sabine: I have a plan.

Kanan: It can’t involve blowing stuff up.

Sabine: I have no plan.

[Explosion in background]

Ezra [off camera]: This was a horrible idea.

Zeb [also off camera]: THIS WAS YOUR IDEA, EZRA!

Ezra: It’s time for Plan B.

Sabine: We have a Plan B?

Ezra: No, but it’s time for one.

Mart: I have a question.

Wolffe: Okay, shoot.

Mart: [shoots blaster at the ceiling] All right, can I ask it now?

Kanan: Go clean your bunker.

Ezra: [waves hand] I don’t need to clean my bunker.

Kanan: [waves hand] Yeah, you do.

Jonner: Oh, that’s so nice, you brought us snacks!

Mart, holding the snacks close: I never said that.

Sato: What is the proper way to deal with someone annoying you?

Ezra: A lightsaber.

Sato: No.

Ezra: Two lightsabers.

Sato: No!

Hera: I’m leaving. Kanan’s in charge while I’m gone. I’ve left notes for each of you with instructions.

Ezra: Mine just says “Ezra, no.”

Hera: And you can apply that to any situation.

Mart: If you had to separate your Loth-cat from 49 other identical Loth-cats that were all equally excited to see you, how would you determine which one is yours?

Ezra: Easy. I would take all 50 Loth-cats home.

Hera: So how are you and Chopper getting along?

Sato: I think he’s finally warming up to me.

Sato: [sees Chopper rolling by]

Sato: Hey, Chopper.

Chopper: [zaps him]

Sato: It’s a work in progress.

Ezra: Here is my award for the most direct orders ignored.

Kanan: That’s not an award. That is an angry letter from Commander Sato.

Ezra: Well, it says most, so I’m calling it an award.

Zeb: [sitting outside listening to the radio]

[something explodes in distance]

Zeb: [turns up the volume]

Sato: Are you in my ceiling, Bridger?

Ezra [muffled]: No.

Sabine: How’s it going?

Kanan: Fine. Except for this headache that comes and goes.

Rex: [enters the room]

Kanan: And it’s back.

Sabine: [looks right]

Sabine: [looks left]

Sabine: [runs through hallway] I’m such a good spy. I’m so sneaky.

Ezra: [in the vent above her; can hardly keep himself from laughing]

Phoenix Squadron Rule #56: No, the command ship isn’t haunted, it’s just Ezra in the vents.

Mart: I am the most responsible person here.

Gooti: But you just flooded the bunker.

Mart: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

[record scratch] [freeze frame]

Mart, narrating: Yup, that’s me. Mart Mattin Sato. Now, you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

Mart: I have two best friends I go to for advice.

Mart: One rationalizes, uses logic. and the other one hypes me up to do dumb stuff.

Mart: Balance.

Sato: For this mission we need a good pilot. Anyone interested?

Mart: [raises hand]

Sato: [sigh] Someone who doesn’t want to wreck their starfighter?

Mart: [puts hand down slowly]

Wolffe: I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing.

Mart: I said “how hard could it be?”

Wolffe: No, don’t hit the button, just press it, gently.

Mart: I am pressing it gently! It’s not working!

Ezra: You can drink drinks but you can’t food foods.

Kanan: Excuse me?

Sabine: Eza has no survival skills. His need to win has replaced them.

Mart: That can’t be true.

Sabine: Watch this. Ezra, race you downstairs!

Ezra: [shatters the window with his lightsaber] [jumps out the window] [parkours all the way to the ground]

Mart: I see what you mean.

Imperial officer: I have an army.

Sato: We have a Jedi.

Kanan: Let’s go to your happy place. Think of things you love.

Ezra: My family, the color orange…

Kanan: Okay.

Ezra: Loth-cats, Jedi stuff…

Kanan: Good.

Ezra:

The Sith Holocron

Kanan: No!

Zeb: What are you going to do?

Ezra: I don’t know. Something dramatic, I hope.

Wolffe: Do you know how to fly this thing?

Mart: We’ll see.

Wolffe: That’s a yes or no question.

Mart: Yes.

Kanan: Is everything a joke to you?

Ezra: Funny things are.

Rex: Hey kid, have you seen my helmet anywhere?

Ezra [wearing Rex’s helmet]: No. Can’t say I have, sir.

Ezra: So I have some good news and some bad news.

Sato: Good news first.

Ezra: Well, the ejector seats in the A-wings work amazing, sir.

Ezra: [trying to climb onto the roof to do a backflip off the roof]

Kanan: [Trying to stop Ezra]

Chopper: [Cheering Ezra on]

Zeb: [making a bet with Sabine on whether or not Ezra will hurt himself]

Hera, looking into the camera like she’s on The Office: I need new teammates.

[while stuck on Phoenix Nest]

Sabine: I know what to do! We should play another game of hide and seek!

Ezra: Oh no, never again.

Sabine: Why not?

Ezra: You left me in the vents last time!

Sabine: IT WAS ONE TIME!

Ezra: I WAS THERE FOR TWO DAYS!

Kanan: It’s quiet. Too quiet.

[blaster bolt barely misses him]

Kanan: To be honest, I preferred the quiet.

Mart: Four months?

Jonner: What is he talking about?

Gooti: It’s not that big of a deal-

Mart: You stood by and watched me water a fake plant for FOUR MONTHS?!

Hera: I can’t submit this mission report. Who wrote it?

Kanan: Why, what does it say?

Hera: All it says its “Bad guys went pew-pew, we went pew-pew better.”

Ezra: … Was I wrong, though?

Kanan, exasperated, in Ezra’s direction: YOU ARE A BOY, NOT A TREE!

Kanan: [casually blocks incoming blaster fire with his lightsaber]

Sabine: [resting face while throwing a detonator into the stormtroopers’ midst]

Hera: While Kanan and I are gone, you’re in charge, Ezra.

Ezra: YES!

Hera to Sabine: You’re secretly in charge.

Sabine: Obviously.

Ezra: [suspiciously walking away from Kanan’s room, snickering]

Hera: Ezra!

Ezra: What?

Hera: I was just looking for you.

Ezra: Why? I didn’t do anything.

Hera: What?

Ezra: What?

Hera: [gives Ezra the Look] What did you do?

Kanan: [walks in with whipped cream on his face] It’s not funny. I was sleeping peacefully. Very funny, Ezra.

Ezra, laughing: I didn’t.. I didn’t do it.

Kanan: Uh, well, Sabine…. I don’t appreciate—

Sabine: Don’t look at me!

Kanan: Okay, well, Hera!

Hera: Nope.

Kanan: Well, who was it then? I know it was one of you!

Sato: [smiles]

[creature roaring in background]

Ezra: DUDES! YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN! [runs away]

Sato: I am at a loss for words.

[cut to shot of Mart looking straight at the camera like he’s on The Office]

Mart: Despite being at a loss for words, my uncle scolded me for three minutes straight.

Imperial officer: Your insolence goes too far!

Ezra: Wrong. It can go a lot further.

Ezra: [reminds Sato of his younger self]

Sato: I like this kid, he’s my son now.

Kanan: Wha- wait! I already called it!

Sato: Where’s Ezra?

Rex: Doing stuff.

Sato: Then where’s Kanan?

Rex: Trying to stop Ezra from doing stuff.

Sato: So where is Sabine?

Rex: Stopping Kanan from stopping Ezra from doing stuff.

Sato: If they’re doing all that, why are you out here?

Rex: Someone has to keep you distracted, Commander.

Chopper: (translated from droid binary) <I despise you with every inch of my being.>

Mart: Well, it isn’t a lot of inches.

Ezra, barely holding Chopper back: RUN

Mart: THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

Hera: *helps Sabine onto the couch*

Chopper: *pushes Ezra off a chair*

Mart: As you can see, there are two types of people.

Mart: We have good news and bad news.

Gooti: Okay, bad news first.

Jonner: The fire we started in the bunker is out of control—

Gooti: THE WHAT—

Mart, holding a perfectly roasted marshmallow: Wow, so you don’t even care about the good news?

Ezra: I’m in me mum’s car, vroom vroom.

Hera: Get out of me car!

Ezra: Aww.

🎵You are my dad🎵

YOU’RE MY DAD!

🎵Boogie woogie woogie🎵

— Ezra to Kanan

Hera: Let me see what you have!

Chopper: *droid sounds* (translation: A knife!)

Hera: NO!

Ezra: 🎶 I want to see my little boy 🎶

Sabine: *holding Loth-cat* Here he comes!

Ezra: 🎶 I want to see my little boy 🎶

Mart, Gooti, and Jonner (gathered around a lettuce): Cabbasu, cabbasu, cab-a-su, LETTASU, LETTASU, LETTASUUUUUU!

Ezra: On all levels except physical, I am a Loth-wolf. *barks*

Mart: Hey did you hear that Joe contracted ligma? They had to do a surgery on his updog.

Sato: Who’s Joe? What’s ligma? What’s updog?

Mart: *inhales*

Sato's revenge:

Mart: Hey uncle, what are you eating?

Sato: I'm having jogan fruit and amatta. Do you want some?

Mart: What's amatta?

Sato: Nothing. What's ammatta with you?

[jaxteller87]

where I need to be part 2

Amber’s POV

I was rifling through Jax’s dorm room, looking for a lighter to spark up. I rolled a joint before I left and thought I’d smoke up before we went out for lunch. I was having much luck, so my search led me to his desk drawer, where my eyes caught sight of STD paperwork crammed into the back. I wouldn’t have noticed, nor would I have even looked at it if the bundle of papers wasn’t stopping me from closing the drawer properly. I took it out, flattened the edges, and went to lay it back in by the time I actually realized what I was looking at. With the unlit joint resting between my lips, I started flipping through the pages. A rush of relief washed over me as I saw all the results came back negative, spanning the past three months, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would possess somebody to hold on to this kind of incriminating information. The last thing I’d want is for my STD results to become common knowledge to any random passerby, even if it did declare a clean bill of health. If you ask me, there was a reason someone gets checked in the first place, and that’s generally because something prompted them to.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jax beamed, strolling in from the SAMCRO throwdown.

“I didn’t know you kept this type of paperwork just lying around,” I said, a hint of concern in my voice.

“Yup, sure do. Been keepin’ it for quite a while now,” he replied, plopping down beside me on the bed.

“Um, okay,” I raised my eyebrows, still not entirely understanding his methodology. “Why, though?”

“To let any lady know I’m clean, even though I always wrap my shit. Can’t take chances,” he explained, taking a swig of his beer. “You know what they say, no glove— no love.”

“What?” I chuckled. 

“You never heard that before?” He looked at me, half surprised. “No glove— no love? You gotta wrap it before you can slap it, darlin’.”

“I’ve never heard it put quite as delicately as that,” I admitted. A smile crept across my face while I wondered just how many rhymes the man had about putting a condom on his little Teller.

“Well, I don’t always think with Jax Jr. like most men. I know there’s more at risk than just having a mini-me running around here,” he quipped. “The only one I’m not nervous to sleep with is Ima; on the rare occasion, it does happen ’cause I know Luann has the girls tested all the time.”

That last part stung me a little and pulled me right out of my momentary daydream. “That’s good, I guess—”

“What?”

Oh, shit— I didn’t want him to think I meant ‘that’s good, that you occasionally sleep with Ima.’ “I’m just saying it’s good that Luann makes sure the girls are all tested.”

“Oh, of course. It’d be bad for business to have a chlamydia breakout or something. That’s why Tig’s not allowed any of the girls,” Jax polished off the rest of his beer.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, she added a clause in their contracts stating that Tig is off-limits. That man doesn’t care where he sticks the little tigger, that’s for sure.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I uh— well, that’s kind of gross— but at the same time, I kind of feel bad for him.”

“Who, Tig?” Jax scoffed, which turned into full-blown laughter. “Don’t bother. It doesn’t slow him down any. Besides, I think he likes cold-packing more anyway.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what that even means, but I feel like if I look it up later, I’ll end up seeing something I don’t want to see,” I cautiously admitted.

“It’s when you fuck a dead chick,” Jax said like it was normal.

I felt a lump moving up in my throat, and I instantly wanted to puke just hearing it. “Okay, new subject. Can we stay in here for a while?” I asked curiously.

“We can,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Figured that’s why you were in here,” he chuckled.

“Well, I was hoping while I’m in town, we could have a little fun,” I teased, kissing his forehead.

The next morning found myself wrapped up in my best friend’s arms.

“Morning, my love,” he whispered, and I kissed the tip of his nose.

“Thank you for last night. It was the best orgasm I’ve had in a while.”

“I’m all about service, darlin’,” he chuckled.

“My vibrator at home doesn’t cut it now that I’ve had the real thing. More importantly, the emotional connection,” I confessed.

I was starting to realize that what got me off the most was the emotional connection with Teller. And him calling me his naughty little beauty helped.

The rest of the day was spent at the lake, fishing and enjoying each other’s company. It had been one of our favorite things to do since we were kids.

“Tell me, Amber,” Jax said later that night as he fried the fish we caught. “I see your mind going.”

“No, it’s downright odd, if not dumb,” I laughed, helping with the meal.

“Don’t give me that look,” I chuckled as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Does it bug you that you’re the only guy I’ve slept with?”

“No, not to sound like a cocky asshat, but it’s hot as hell,” he replied.

“Like we talked a while ago, I’m enjoying learning with you, even though sometimes it’s aggravating for you.”

“Well, I lasted longer than three seconds last night, so I wasn’t as annoyed,” I teased, laughing with him.

Jax’s POV

“Harder, papa,” she cooed as we lay on the living room floor later that night, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows around us.

“There she goes again,” I thought to myself; her moans meant that I was hitting the right spot. The sheer confidence caused a smirk to form on my lips. Growling in her ear, I praised her, relishing the good girl she was trying to be. But as she looked up at me, I could see the pain in her eyes, the demons she was desperately trying to escape. I kissed her forehead gently, whispering, “You feel so good.”

It was a familiar dance we’d been engaged in for the past few months. I couldn’t fix her; I knew that. Not with just sex. But if I could take the pain away, if only for a little while, then I was going to try.

“Thank you,” she breathed a few minutes later, a radiant smile lighting up her face. “Best orgasms I’ve had in weeks.”

And then came the aftercare, a routine we’d come to know well. Drinks, cuddles, her favorite forehead kisses, and my beard scratches. I loved the way she gently scratched my beard, a gesture that never failed to send shivers down my spine.

“Are you warm enough? I can grab another blanket from the sofa,” I offered, concern lacing my words.

“No, I’m good with just the one,” she replied, pressing a soft kiss to my chest.

“You don’t have to go home tomorrow,” I said softly, knowing the thoughts swirling in her mind.

“No. How about you? You’re not busy, are you?” she asked as we settled into our full-body snuggle.

“No, actually, just mechanic stuff. No club stuff, surprisingly,” I chuckled, holding her close. “What do you want to do?”

“Anything as long as it’s with you,” she smiled. 

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[iliumheightnights]

Him [2] | Tony Stark x Male Reader

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Tony Stark x Male Reader Summary: How exactly did (M/N) become Tony’s husband? The avengers find out.

Fist Part

…

A long time ago,

Tony walked down the hall of the student dorms. All around him he heard gawks and whispers, students and parents alike looking at him in shock. His own parents weren’t there with him since they were away on business. Arriving at his room he used his key to unlock the door, he was greeted to a rather large room...and another person.

In the room, another boy was already setting his stuff up on one side. Tony wasn’t sure what was going on, he thought he was getting a room by himself. He coughed to get the boy’s attention. The boy set down his things and smiled as he saw Tony. He moved over to him and raised his hand. “Hi. I’m (M/N). You must be my roommate.” Tony didn’t move to take his hand, only looking at him questionably. Why wasn’t he freaking out like anyone else would? “Sorry, I just thought I was getting my own room. So this is confusing for me.”

(M/N) dropped his hand but didn’t let his smile falter. “Well you’ve got yourself a roommate now. Don’t worry I’m not too bad.” (M/N) turned back to his own things but Tony wasn’t done yet. “Sorry. I just like my own space...want my own space. What do I have to pay you to find another room?” That got (M/N)’s attention again. “I’m sorry. WHO exactly do you think you are? I’m not going anywhere. If you want your own room, YOU can leave.” (M/N) fired back, now instead of a genuine smile there was a fake grin.

Tony hadn’t expected such a passive-aggressive response, especially from someone being offered money to get a different room. “I’m sorry, but I’M not leaving,” Tony said, dropping his bags. (M/N) smiled before sitting on his bed. “Well, then I suggest you get used to the idea of having a roommate. (M/N) pulled up a book and began reading it, Tony could tell he wasn’t actually reading it though. With a sigh, Tony spoke again. “I’m sorry. Look I don’t know if you know who I am, but I’m Tony Stark and I can get you whatever you want if you just leave.” (M/N) smirked and looked at him.

“No.”

“W-what?”

“No. I like this room, I was here first, I unpacked all my shit. I’m staying. So I suggest if you want to be alone YOU go somewhere else.” With that (M/n) lifted up his phone and began scrolling through it.

“Unbelievable. I will literally give you anything you want just go somewhere else.” Tony said once more. M/n took a quick glance at Tony. “Hhmm? Sorry didn’t hear you.” Tony rolled his eyes and threw his bags on the floor before jumping onto his bed. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass aren’t you?”

“Whatever could you mean Anthony?”

Tony heard M/n chuckled and let out a groan before pulling out his own phone.

…

Months passed and M/n and Tony had become rather good friends. While Tony was his playboy self, M/n made sure to let him know he wouldn’t put up with it. M/n also got to know Tony’s friend Rhodey and quickly became friends with him as well. Both boys were very similar, especially when it came to keeping Tony out of trouble.

Tonight seemed like one of those nights.

M/n was sitting at his desk working on a book report when his phone went off. Answering it he heard loud music and talking in the background. He could tell it was some kind of party. “M/n! I need your help.” Rhodey.

“Why? Are you at a party?”

“Not important. It’s Tony, I need your help with him. He got a little drunk-”

M/n snorted. “What’s new. How large is the little tonight?”

He could practically hear Rhodey roll his eyes through the phone. “Not funny M/n.”

“Fine, sorry. What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s drunk and I mean DRUNK drunk. I’m trying to keep him grounded and out of trouble but he’s just...he’s just Tony!”

M/n sighed and stood up after saving his work. “I’m on my way. Make sure he doesn’t get into any tro- into any MORE trouble.”

“I’ll try my best.” M/n could hear some crashing in the background of the call. “Please hurry.”

It didn’t take long for M/n to get to the party. All he had to do was follow the sound of Loud music and shouting students. Entering the house, he pushed through the crowd of people. Some people shouted at him to watch where he was going but he didn’t care, he just wanted to get back to the dorm.

Upon finally pushing through the crowd he found Rhodey. The boy smiled and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing his friend finally arrived. “Thank god. I’ve been trying to keep him out of trouble and clean but…” Both turned to see Tony taking another drink before grabbing another out of a guy’s hand. The guy looked pissed but Tony didn’t seem to care. “That’s my drink dick!” The guy grabbed Tony, glaring at him.

M/n sighed and gave Rhodey a look. “Gotta go save his ass again.” Rhodey nodded as M/n walked over to Tony and the guy. He tapped the guy’s shoulder. “Hey!” When the guy turned his head he was greeted with M/n’s fist, knocking him out.

“M/n! That was so hot! Here lemme- OW!” M/n pinched Tony’s ear, dragging him out of the house and away from the party. “OW! Let me go!” M/n did as Tony asked before wrapping his arm around Tony’s shoulder, still leading him back toward their dorm. However instead of Tony still struggle against him, he was surprised to feel Tony give up and follow his lead.

Once both of them returned to their dorm, M/n helped get Tony back to bed. He didn’t say anything to the other boy before turning back to his desk and returning back to his Essay. “I’m sorry-” He heard Tony say rather quietly from his bed. “Do we have to make this a habit Tony? Because I’d rather not fail my classes because I have to bail you out.” M/n said with a sigh.

“You don’t need to you know? I can handle it.” 

Tony almost didn’t hear it because M/n had said it so quietly. “No. But I will for you.” With a smile, Tony closed his eyes and fell asleep.

…

M/n opened the door to the dorm and let out a sigh. “UGH! Today sucked!”

Throwing his backpack onto his bed, he went to sit down but stopped as he took in the dorm. It was...clean. The dorm was actually, spotlessly, clean. It was normally never clean, at least not from Tony’s side. Speaking of Tony, there was a note. Picking up the note M/n gave it a read.

“Put on something nice and meet me on the roof.” M/n just stared at the note for a bit more. “What?” 

Doing as the note had instructed, he had put on something ‘nice’ as the note said and went up to the roof to meet Tony. “Tony? You up here? I swear if you try to kill me I’m going to get you first.”

He stopped speaking as he took in the sight in front of him. There Tony was in a nice dress shirt next to a table for two which was...very finely decorated with fancy lights around them. “M/n table for two now ready.” Tony said pulling out a chair.

“What is this?”

“What’s what?” Tony said with a smirk.

M/n sat down in the chair, Tony pushing him in. “This.” M/n motioned at the table. “All of this. What are you up to?”

Tony sat across from him at the table. “Well…You see-” It was then that M/n saw just how nervous Tony actually looked. It was strange he never acted like this. “You’re acting strange. Are you okay?”

Tony chuckled at that and smiled at M/n. “Do you always have to read me so well?”

“It’s one of my many talents,” M/n said with a smile before leaning in closer and taking Tony’s hand. “Seriously though Tony, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just...nerves.”

“Nerves? What could you be so-”

“Would you be my boyfriend M/n?” Tony blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut.

M/n was shocked at the confession and question, to say the least. Just when Tony was about to let go out of embarrassment he felt M/n’s hand squeeze back and heard him giggle. “And here I was thinking you were going to talk me into doing your end-of-term essay.” Tony opened his eyes and saw M/n smiling at him, a genuine smile. “Yes, Tony. I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

“Wait- really!?”

“Oh well, I can always say no if you wanted that answer?”

“No! I-I mean. I’m glad you said yes.”

“Me too.”

…

“So you two met in college?”

M/n and Tony nodded as they finished up the story of how they met to the avengers. “Yup. It all started when he tried to kick me out.”

“Hey! I OFFERED to pay you to leave. You just declined.”

“And aren’t you glad I did now?”

Tony blushed but everyone could see the little smile growing on his face.

“So how come we haven’t heard about you before?” Clint asked.

“Well I prefer my privacy, plus I’m rather busy running the different charities and organizations I’ve started.”

That seemed to gain their attention.

“What kind of charities do you run?” Steve asked.

Tony just watched as his husband talked with his team. He smiled realizing just how proud he was of his husband and couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

…

A/N: PHEW! Oh man, that took FOREVER for me to write. I literally started this in November. If that doesn’t show how out of writing I’ve been idk what does haha. But hopefully, this will help me get past that block!

[babyboy-cody]

Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

[cades-outsider]

Older Johnny Lawrence X Reader *SMUT*

Warnings? SMUT! SMUT! Language! And praising!

Praise Me

Walking along the side walk you smile to yourself as Cobra Kai comes into view, one of your good friends Johnny Lawrence had opened up his very own dojo. You knew his past with his sensei Krease, Johnny after much trusting had told you everything that Krease had put in his head and done to him.

Johnny explained that he was not going to put the kids in that situation Krease had done to him and his friends. Pushing open the door the famous bell chimes as you walk in, the door closing behind you.

Johnny comes out of the back drying his hands with a towel, he smiles once he sees that it’s you. "Y/n hey" he greets pulling you into a hug.

You inhale his scent which consisted of fresh green mint, causing you to swoon as you hugged back. "Hey Johnny" you giggle.

Oh how much he loved that pretty giggle of yours, it was music to his ears. "Where’s Miguel" You ask curiously as you both pulled away from the hug.

"His mom called him, she said she needed to speak to him about something" Johnny shrugs throwing the towel on the beating mannequin as you like to call.

"How about we talk in my office" He says smugly, now that he had a office causing you to giggle.

"I’d like that Sensei Lawrence" You play along as he takes your hand and leads you into his office.

He goes to his fridge and pulls out one of his Coors Banquets Beers "want one?" He questions looking at you.

You debate for a moment before shaking your head "sure, why not" you start "-I gotta see what the hype is about these, they must be good if the Johnny Lawrence loves them" You tease as he takes the two beers and places them on his desk.

He sits in his office chair while you sit in the comfortable chair on in front of him "well then-" he stops for a moment to do his famous 'beer opening trick' "-here you go" he says handing it over to you before doing the same with his.

He holds his beer up in the air "to...." he hums as he thinks of nothing to celebrate to causing you to laugh.

"To Johnny Lawrence doing something he loves" You say rising your beer up hitting it with his gently.

Johnny smirks shaking his head before taking a sip, you do the same "Hmm, pretty good Lawrence" you chuckle as you hold the bottle in your hand resting it on your thigh.

"Speaking of love.... have you been seeing anybody?" Johnny asks taking a bigger gulp of his beer this time.

You chuckle "nope, I swear I grew up in the wrong time" You joke.

Johnny raises his brows "why do you say that?" He asks curiously.

You sigh "it’s just the men, well I can’t even say men. Boys, are so not gentlemen like at all" You say shaking your head.

"Why what are they like now?" He asks genuine.

"They are definitely not romantic-" you scoff "-they don’t open doors for me, or the don’t do any romantic gestures" you sigh "-there just not educated" you giggle at the last part causing Johnny to smile.

"Oh and the sex!" You groan throwing your head back "-the sex is just horrible" You finally let loose.

You notice Johnny’s hands grip his beer firmer as his hand starts to turn white before he calms down "seems like you get the young and dumb batch" he chuckles gulping down some more beer.

"Ugh, remember my last relationship?" You question.

"Oh that guy was a dick, I can’t believe he did that to you" Johnny says gritting his teeth.

"Me either" you say remembering the time your ex treated you so badly you ran to Johnny’s at three am at night, but he held you that whole night not complaining once.

"But you were there for me" You hum as a small smile forms onto your lips.

Johnny smiles "always" he says as your eyes connect, his beautiful icy clue ones piercing through yours as if he was reading everything about you in that moment.

  "Johnny I need to tell you something" You say breaking the already sexual tension.

  He clears his throat "yes?" He asks taking another sip of beer.

  'I'm into you' You think "I'm into older men" But you actually say.

  Johnny's eye widen, until slowly a small smile appears on his face now feeling confident that he could have a chance with you.

  "Let me prove to you that all men aren't like that" He stops for a moment "-let me take you out on a date" he finishes as he slides the unfinished beer in the trash beside him.

  You're taken aback but also excited seeing as you have kinda caught feelings for him "alright deal" you smile.

  Johnny smiles widely in return "great I'll pick you up at 7" he says with a small smirk.

  "In the firebird?" You smirk.

  "You know it baby" Johnny winks as you get up, getting ready to leave.

  He stands up "give me that, I don't need my gir-" he stops before shaking his head "-I don't need you drinking and driving" he says taking the beer from you and placing it in the trash.

You chuckle at his antics "I wasn’t even going to carry it" you say sticking out your tongue at him playfully.

"Hey. That’s offensive" He says 'seriously' as he leans on the wall.

"Oh I bet Sensei" You joke as you start walking out of the office.

"I’ll see you at seven!" You hear Johnny yell as he runs out of the office.

You turn around "I’ll see you at seven" you repeat as a blush forms over your cheeks.

Johnny rushes over to the door and opens it for you letting you walk out, as he does he kisses your cheek. As you walk out of the building and into your car, your heart races as you could not believe that just happened.

On the way home all you could do was smile, excited for your date with Johnny. Someone who you caught feeling for on the first day of meeting but didn’t know.

You make it home and start rummaging through your dresses trying to pick out something not to like 'desperate' as they call or something to revealing.

You finally just decide on a white well fit thigh high dress and some black heels. You weren’t insecure about your body, but sometimes you would get self cautious.

Deciding to go all out tonight you apply the littlest amount of make up and curl your hair.

Meanwhile, Johnny was throwing almost every piece of clothing he owned around his room, panicking as he couldn’t find anything to wear. With a frustrated sigh he throws all his clothes back in his closet before seeing a white suit catch his eye.

'That’s the one' he thought as he picked it up and slid it on. By the time you both were done it was around 6:50. Johnny was thankful that you only lived five minutes away from him.

He quickly got in his fire bird and made his way to you. You were more excited than anything. I mean how often is it that a guy you like asks you out on a date, and especially a decent guy.

Johnny arrived at your door at exactly 7 o'clock on the dot. Hearing a knock on your front door you walk as fast as you can to the door in heels, letting out a breath of nervousness as you open the door.

  Johnny looks up, his mouth gape open as he looks at your beauty "I- wow were matching" you say noticing Johnny's white suit that he looked mighty fine in.

  "-wow you look beautiful" Johnny says mind blown, I mean he always admired you and thought you were the most gorgeous girl but now you just looked breath taking.

"Thank you Johnny, you look handsome... as always" you compliment with a sweet smile.

The smallest blush falls onto his face, so faint you almost missed it. Johnny holds out his hand gesturing for you to take it "shall we go?" He asks as you take his hand.

  "We shall" You comment with a side smile.

He leads you to his well cleaned up fire bird, rushing to your side to open the door for you "my lady" he jokes, you giggle as you slide into the passengers seat.

"Thank you may gentlemen" You blush, as Johnny runs over to his side entering the car and cranking it up.

The drive was silent, comfortable silence of course. You both were just simply enjoying each other's company as you finally made it to your destination.

A small fancy Italian restaurant, Johnny gets out of his side and rushes to your side opening the door before you could even put your hand on the handle to get out.

You smile as your heart swells with joy and love, "thank you" you comment politely as you get out of the car.

Johnny closes the door and takes your hand "my pleasure love" He says grabbing your hand and walking you up to the door once again opening the door for you leading you in.

  A waitress leads you to your guys table handing you your menus and asks for your drink preference. Soon she leaves giving you some time to pick out your orders before bringing your favorite drink back and Johnny's coke.

  You both order your meals after she returns, before going back and putting your orders in. You rest your chin on your hand as you gaze up at Johnny.

Johnny freezes "what? Is there something on my face?" He asks wiping his clean face.

You chuckle "no of course not you’re just a pretty sight" you reply giddily.

He smirks "is that all you see me as?" He questions playfully.

"No I see you as much more" you wink as the waiter brings your food before Johnny could reply back.

She places the food on the table before quickly rushing off, noticing the long awaited sexual tension.

You clear your throat "so, how does it feel to be back into karate sensei?" You spark up, interested as you both dig into your meals.

"It feels great to be back, granted Miguel is my only student but he’s a good kid" He compliments with a small smile.

"Yeah, I’ve seen you guys practice he’s getting better" You say impressed.

"I know, he deserves so much more than I can give him" Johnny says looking down.

"Hey don’t say that, you’re doing amazing and I’m so proud of you. He couldn’t learn from anyone better" you say, completely dissing his thought.

Johnny looks up, both of your eyes connect. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife "you wanna get out of here?" He asks before putting his fork down.

"Yes" you answer quickly already getting excited for what’s to come.

The waitress comes over "we’ll take the check please" Johnny says with a smile that reads 'were in a hurry here' to which the waitress quickly nods becoming awkward.

Though she doesn’t move "uh- you guys didn’t finish so there for it’s on the house and you get to keep your meals" she explains grabbing two container boxes and handing them to you.

"Thank you" you say politely as you hand one to Johnny and the waitress quickly runs away.

"That was weird I’ve never heard of that before" you say as you put your food in the box, Johnny doing the same knowing you’ll both get hungry eventually.

"I know" He comments as he grabs your hand and quickly rushes you guys outside.

He places the boxes on the hood of his car before gently pushing you up against the passenger door and connecting his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

You reply by pushing your lips against his firmer, before things could escalate to quickly and you’d give the whole restaurant a show Johnny quickly pulls away opening the door for you letting you sit, and getting into his side.

Nothing was said while driving, just heavy breathing as you both were excited for what was to come once Johnny made it to his apartment.

Soon you guys parked and Johnny quickly rushed over to your side of the door and helped you out. Before you could make it to Johnny’s door he placed his lips on yours. Your back hitting the door, he quickly pulls out his keys and opens the door letting you both in and closing it with his foot.

Johnny carries you over to the wall and pushes you up against it, not to hard but enough to make you weak. He reconnects your lips back together once again in a rougher kiss, still gentle.

He pulls away to trail slow and sweet kisses to your neck to which he immediately finds your sweet spot as you let him know by moaning.

He continues to abuse that spot as you start to speak up "Johnny.... more" you practically beg.

He caved in and taps your leg signaling for you to jump to which you do. The ends of your dress ripping immediately, causing you to gasp and Johnny to laugh.

"It’s fine I didn’t like it anyways" you say breathlessly as being turned on took you out of your thinking process.

You roughly place your lips back onto his as he carries you over to the kitchen counter roughly swapping everything away with his free arm before sitting you on it.

"Then you won’t mind if I take it off?" He asks for consent, shyly because he didn’t want to mess this up.

"Yes please" You say giving him permission.

As a gentleman he doesn’t finish ripping the dress but he pulls the zipper down slipping it halfway off til it wrapped around your waist.

Your strapless white bra being exposed to which Johnny admires as he places more kisses over your neck and the top of your boobs.

Johnny picks you back up before this time carrying you in his room placing you gently on his bed. "God your so beautiful" He compliments as he kisses up your chest, going down to your stomach.

He pulls the rest of the dress down, discarding it somewhere in the room. He runs his hand gently around your thighs and stomach.

You whine in pleasure he comes back up and places his fingers over the button on the front of your bra "can I?" He asks watching your eyes for any sign of discomfort to find none.

You simply nod giving your consent as he unbuttons the bra slowly dragging it down your body before discarding of it. Your breasts now bare to him to which you look away shyly as your hands start to cover yourself up.

"Don’t my love, you look like a goddess" he starts before placing kisses all over your chest "-you’re so perfect" Johnny finishes, love dripping with every word.

He swirls his tongue around your harden nipple causing your back to arch as a moan falls out.

He places kisses everywhere down your stomach until he gets to your soaking core. He tugs at the side of your underwear asking to pull it off to which you nod letting him do so.

Your bottom half now completely bare to him, he spreads open your legs resting his hands on your thighs. He kisses just above your core, slowly he trails more kisses until he finally connects his lips with your clit, sucking harshly but lovingly.

"You’re so beautiful" He praises once more as continues his assault on your clit, now slipping two fingers into your dripping core.

Wanting you to cum around his cock, he takes his fingers out before sucking them dry and licking his lips causing more moans to fly out your mouth

"You taste wonderful" he says as lust fills his bow darkened blue eyes.

He pulls his shirt off revealing his toned shaped body before discarding of his pants leaving himself only in his boxers.

"Are you sure you want to do this Y/n" Johnny asks sincerely.

"Of course I want to do this with you Johnny" You comply.

Nodding he removes his boxers letting his hard on slap against your core, both letting out a groan at contact.

Lining his cock up at your entrance he looks up at you once more only for you to nod your head yes.

He slowly slides his cock inside your core, feeling you clench around his cock causing him to moan you following behind feeling him stretch you out.

"I’m going to treat you so well" He says whilst rubbing your thighs slowly thrusting his hips against yours.

You moan "Johnny-" you whimper as he speeds up his pace more.

His cock hitting all the right places and more, thrusting at a firmer pace he grips your hips so he could go faster. Hitting your G- spot dead on causing your back to arch and a moan to escape your plump lips.

"You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well" he compliments as he try’s to contain his breathing and moans.

"Princess, you’re taking my cock in like a good girl" He praises as he slams his hips against yours finding a faster rhythm.

You whimper "so g-good" you stutter as Johnny leans down, readjusting his posture to kiss you.

You run your hands through his hair as you feel your climax reaching. "I’m close Johnny-" you moan aloud as you chase that burning sensation.

"Yeah? You’re going to cum for me beautiful" he continues to praise as he drops a hand down to your core and rubs your clit in figure eights causing you to arch your chest into his and cum around his cock, feeling him twitch as you do so.

Johnny follows behind as he cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to ride out both of your orgasms.

Gently pulling out his cock he turns over to his back and pulls you to lean into his chest. "Words cannot describe how amazing that was Y/n" he says feeling as though he was on top of the world.

You nod agreeing along "it was amazing Johnny" you compliment.

"Y/n.... I love you" Johnny says waiting patiently for your response.

You nuzzle your neck into his; lovingly "I love you Johnny Lawrence"

_______________________________________________

Thank you for requesting @peachymelon69 I hope you enjoyed!

[parkerslatte]

Someone Like Me

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N has liked Spencer since she joined the BAU a few months ago. He likes her too and is surprised when she asks him out on a date.

MASTERLIST

***

It had been a couple of months since Y/N had joined the BAU. In those two months she had become close friends with every member, however she had become quite close friends with one Dr. Spencer Reid in particular. Due to their closeness in age, the two were obviously drawn to one another. Of course due to them being close friends and close in age, it came with a lot of teasing from the other team members - especially Derek Morgan. 

“Hey, Spence!” Y/N greeted as she walked into work that day. 

He looked up from the files on his desk and gave her a smile. Y/N stepped behind his chair before leaning down to hug him, her head resting on his shoulder. Y/N would do this everyday and Spencer wouldn’t mind. The first time she had ever done it, everyone expected the genius to awkwardly tell her that he doesn’t hug or really touch anyone for that matter. To their surprise, Spencer accepted the hug, even reaching up his own hand to wrap gently around her wrist. 

Y/N unwound her arms from around Spencer and perched on the end of his desk, folding her arms across his chest, “So, the new episode of Doctor Who comes out tonight, you wanna come round and watch it with me?”

Spencer, who wasn’t normally invited to things, especially when it was a one on one thing, raised his eyebrows in surprise. Before he had the chance to answer however, Y/N spoke up again.

“If you already have plans, I completely understand.” 

“No, no,” Spencer said before clearing her throat, “I mean I don’t have plans. I’d love to come.” 

A wide smile stretched across Y/N’s face, “Great, you want to head back to my place after work? Unless you need to go back to yours first.”

“Um, no I don’t. Going straight to yours if perfectly fine.” Spencer replied.

Y/N stood up straight, “Good, now I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve gotta help Penelope with something.” Y/N placed her hand on Spencer’s shoulder and didn’t remove it until she was too far away.

Spencer watched her walk away until he couldn’t see her anymore before turning back to his desk to find Derek Morgan looking at him. 

“What?” Spencer asked, oblivious.

“Come on kid.” Derek replied and Spencer didn’t reply, signaling to Derek that he had no idea what he was hinting. Derek sighed before continuing, “She likes you.”

“What? No she doesn’t.” Spencer replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Reid, you’re a profiler, how can you not tell?” Derek said, “She always goes out of her way to talk to you. She always greets you with a hug and the looks she gives you when she thinks nobody is watching? They’re clear signs she likes you. You should ask her out.”

“I’m not going to ask her out.” Spencer replied, flicking through his paperwork.

“And why’s that?” 

“Because she doesn’t like me okay? Can we just drop the subject?” Spencer responded before focusing on his paperwork.

Derek, who knew that Spencer wasn’t going to talk anymore about the topic, sighed before going back to his paperwork. 

***

Later that day, Y/N welcomed Spencer into her apartment. Spencer had never been to her apartment before so he couldn’t help himself but look around it. Her apartment was homely, and felt lived in. It was bright and cosy. What caught his eye however, was the many different books she had stacked around her apartment. 

“Sorry about the mess. I didn’t really have time to clean last night,” Y/N apologised, “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to change into something a little more comfortable.” Spencer took a seat on her couch which was covered in many different colour blankets and waited for her to return. 

A couple of minutes passed by and Y/N walked out of her bedroom in what looked like her pajamas. She slumped on the couch next to Spencer. She brought her legs up and tucked them under herself, getting comfortable. She leant forward and grabbed the remote, switching on her television. Her knee brushed his leg slightly every time she moved, causing Spencer’s focus to change from the screen to her. 

Y/N noticed this and turned her head to face Spencer, “What?”

Spencer, realising that he had gotten caught, cleared his throat, “Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something.” He lied and Y/N could see right through it. Instead of questioning it, she let the episode play. 

Over the course of the episode, Y/N had found that she had gradually moved closer to Spencer due to her constant shuffling. Her shoulder brushed his and her knee was now fully pressed against his. 

Spencer could barely concentrate on the episode. He had been close to Y/N before but never when the two were alone together. The feeling of her knee pressed against his and the gentle brush of her shoulder was almost enough for him to get up and leave and run away from his feelings.

The credits rolled signaling the end of the episode. Spencer was glad, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take being in close proximity to Y/N. She swung her legs and stood up, stretching her body. Spencer looked away when her t-shirt rode up to reveal a bit of her stomach. 

Y/N checked the clock on the wall, “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, “It’s midnight.”

Spencer, who hadn’t realised the time, looked at the clock on the wall and sure enough it was midnight. He stood up from the couch, “I should be getting home, it’s late and we have to be at work early in the morning.”

“You can stay here for the night. It’s late and by the time you get back to your apartment it’ll be even later.” Y/N rambled.

Spencer thought about it for a moment. By the time it would take him to get home it would be about one in the morning. He was feeling tired now and he knew that by the time he would get home,he would be wide awake. 

“We can leave earlier in the morning so you can pick up some clothes from your apartment.” Y/N added.

Spencer took one more moment before nodding, causing Y/N to smile, “I think I have some clothes that’ll fit you so you can sleep in something comfortable. I’ll just go and get them.”

Spencer nodded before taking a seat on her couch, he guessed that it would be his bed for the night. Not that he was complaining, the couch was comfortable. Y/N returned with a pile of folded clothes in his hand and handed them to Spencer. He went to get changed in the bathroom before returning and began walking over to the couch.

“Where are you going?” Y/N questioned.

“To the couch?” Spencer asked confused.

“No, you can share my bed. That couch may look comfortable but after a few hours of laying on it, it gives you an awful pain in the neck.” Y/N said, taking Spencer’s hand, leading him to her bedroom.

Spencer, felt his face begin to heat up at the thought of sharing a bed with Y/N. He knew that she would see it as totally platonic but he would see it a completely different way. 

She laid down in the bed first and patted the space next to her. Reluctantly, Spencer climbed in the space next to her. They faced each other as they laid there. Y/N began to reach forward and Spencer recoiled slightly.

“Relax.” She muttered before pulling his glasses off his face and placing them on the nightstand. Spencer had completely forgotten he was wearing them until Y/N had taken them off. 

“You have really nice eyes,” Y/N said to Spencer, “They’re kind.”

“Um, thanks.” Spencer muttered quietly, a blush forming on his face. 

“Spencer, can I ask you a question?” Y/N asked.

“Of course.” Spencer replied.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” 

Spencer fell into a state of shock. Y/N had asked him to go out on a date. He was confused by why Y/N would want to go out with him in the first place. 

“What?” Spencer asked slowly, wondering if he misheard her. 

“I asked if you wanted to go out on a date with me? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I understand.” Y/N rambled.

“No, of course I want to,” Spencer replied, still quite shocked, “But why?”

“Why what?” Now it was Y/N’s turn to be confused.

“Why would you want to go out on a date with me?” 

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Because Spencer Reid. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” Y/N started and continued to list off things that she admired about him. 

Spencer was listening intently, trying to process what Y/N was saying to him. He would’ve never thought that the person he liked would be saying all this to him.

“And not to mention, he is incredibly handsome.” Y/N finished.

“W-what?” Spencer questioned.

“I said that you are incredibly handsome Dr. Reid.” Y/N replied, her hand gently coming up to caress his cheek.

Spencer couldn’t help the smile that fell onto his face as Y/N’s thumb gently ran across his cheek. Y/N had a smile on her face as well, she had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders after she had asked him on a date.

“So, are you free tomorrow night?” Y/N muttered. It was only now that she had realised that she had gotten closer to him. Their bodies were nearly completely touching. Spencer had one of his arms draped over her body while the other had begun to play with the ends of her hair. 

“For you Y/N, I’m free anytime.” Spencer said smiling.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

I'm so excited to read everything for Summer of Love ✨ could i request prompt 37 + 53 with Tom? Maybe friends to lovers 👀

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THE VEGAS REQUEST I AM SO EXCITED

Okay no more screaming but I seriously hope you like it! This is one of my favorite prompts so I was super excited to get to do it 🥰🥰 Anyways, thanks for sending it in, feedback, as always, is appreciated and encouraged. Love you so so much xx

Drive Thru Wedding

37 - Getting drunk and getting married in Vegas

53 - "We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic."

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: light angst

Summary: You had a drive thru wedding with your best friend

Masterlist

Taglist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom sat up, groaning and rubbing his eyes as light streamed into the hotel room. The room slowly came into focus and he spotted (y/n) passed out on his bed. He knit his brow and padded towards the window, pulling the blinds closed to try and dull his throbbing head. He made his way to the bathroom, wincing as he turned on the light. He splashed water on his face before realizing he was still in the same clothes he’d put on the night before. With a heavy sigh he returned to the bedroom and peaked at his phone. Calls and texts from his family and Harrison, nothing unusual outside of the fact that it was nearly noon.

“Shit,” he swore, glancing back over at (y/n), “Darling wake up,” he set a hand on her back, shaking her lightly.

She groaned, “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon, come on, time to get up,” he chuckled.

“Fuck you,” she swore back at him before rolling onto her back, “I feel awful.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, “I barely remember last night.”

“Me either. I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing…”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” he assured, “We should go get some water, and eat.”

“Good call, but I need to shower first,” she yawned as she finally sat up, “Mind if I use your shower?”

“No, no of course not, I’m just gonna call Haz.”

“Cool, I’ll be quick,” she promised.

“Take your time,” he waved her off as he punched in his friend's number.

“Ah, he lives,” Harrison teased as he picked up the phone, “How’s (y/n)?”

“Showering, we’re both a bit fucked,” he frowned, “You aren’t in the suite are you?”

“No, we got breakfast and now we’re heading for the mob museum. We were going to wake you guys up but it seemed like you needed the sleep. You want to come meet us here?”

“Maybe, we’ve got to go eat first though,” he sighed, “Dude, what happened last night?”

“We all got really trashed, you and (y/n) were taking shots and you two took the driver and disappeared. We were all too trashed to even notice you were missing until we left though, but you guys were passed out when we got back to the hotel, so we figured you must have just headed back,” he chuckled, “Don’t remember a thing huh?’

“Hardly, I mean I remember being at the club for a while, but I don’t remember leaving…”

“Does she remember anything?”

“No, I don’t think she remembers anymore than I do.”

“That’s good, at least if you, you know, confessed something, she doesn’t remember.”

Tom blushed, “Yeah, that’s a plus…”

It was obvious to Harrison that something was wrong, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Tom sighed, “I’ve just got this feeling something happened, I just can’t remember what.”

“Hey, I’m sure if you did anything too bad it’d be in the news by now. You probably just threw up or fell or something.”

“Probably, I just hope no one got it on video.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, look I gotta go, our Uber’s here, but let me know if you end up heading our way.”

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll get back to you in a bit.”

Tom rubbed his eyes and dug around his suitcase for some fresh clothes, after finding them he headed across the suite to use a different bathroom. He desperately wanted to clean up and figure out exactly what had occurred the night before. She still looked exhausted when they reunited outside of his room, he was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Everyone went out already huh?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, they’re at the mob museum right now. They said we can meet up with them if we want, I figure we can see how we feel after we eat.”

“Good idea,” she rubbed her stomach with a sigh, “Do you think a mimose would help or hinder me right now.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Definitely hinder. I think both of us should be on an alcohol detox today.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she sighed, “Alright, a boring, virgin breakfast it is.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he laughed as they stepped onto the elevator, “It’s just tragic.”

They both opted for something easy on the stomach, simple eggs and fruits, regretting that they didn’t bring sunglasses down from the hotel room. They were both certain they couldn’t make it through a day on the strip, the lights and noise were bound to be too much, which ruled out the possibility of going to meet their friends. Tom still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, it was an unreachable itch in the back of his mind.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Uh, being at the club, doing some shots,” she tapped her chin, “I don’t know Tom, not much, it’s all kind of blurry really.”

“Same here. I just wonder where we were…”

“I’m sure we just came back here,” she yawned, “I mean you’re pretty high profile, if we were out doing anything crazy I’m sure we would have heard about it by now.”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Mr. Holland?” the waiter approached their table with a smile, “I have something for you from the front desk.”

“Oh, thanks,” he frowned at the manilla envelope placed in front of him, “Uh, who’s this from?”

“Your diver returned it this morning.”

“Thanks,” he repeated as he tore into the envelope, suddenly going wide eyed at its contents, “What the…”

(y/n) frowned and scooted towards him, “I wanna see.”

Before them laid a series of photos of them, clearly taken the night before at the Little White Chapel. (y/n) held a bouquet and Tom held her, his lips pressed to her cheek in one photo and her lips in the next.

“Holy shit,” (y/n)’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “No fucking way…”

“We must have been there for someone else,” Tom tried to explain.

“With a bouquet? Kissing?” (y/n) frowned at him, “Oh my god we eloped in Vegas!”

“Guess you can mark that one off your bucket list,” Tom tried to joke.

“Tom!” she flushed, “This is serious! We need to go somewhere right away and get this annulled!”

“Look even if we did do it, it doesn’t mean it was legally binding, I mean we were drunk, they probably just let us take some pictures to entertain us.”

“God I hope so,” she groaned, “We need to go down there now, get this sorted out right away.”

“I’ll call a driver,” Tom assured, “We’ll sort this out.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(y/n) drummed her finger along her arm nervously while the elder lady at the chapel typed away at her computer, checking if anything had been registered under either of their names.

“Oh, yep, here it is,” she smiled to them, “Looks like we did hold a wedding for you two last night.”

“Like a real, legal one?” (y/n) pressed.

She nodded, “Yep, you two are married.”

“W-Well you have to delete it,” she demanded.

“Oh hunny, I can’t do that,” she apologized, “You’ll have to go to the county court to apply for an annulment.”

She groaned and Tom smiled at the lady as he ushered her towards the door, “Thanks for all your help, have a nice day.”

“You’re welcome!” she called after them cheerfully.

“This sucks,” (y/n) pinched her brow as they returned to the car, “I guess we’re going to the county court then.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Tom blushed, “I just hope we can stay friends after the divorce.”

She laughed while he gave instructions to the driver, “Depends how big my alimony checks are.”

“Why are you the one that gets alimony checks? What about me huh?”

“Because there’s no way I make more money than you movie star,” she poked his chest, “I’m taking Tessa too.”

“Oh now you’re taking it way too far,” he shook his head, “You can take the kids, and the houses, and the money, but no way you’re taking Tessa.”

“Dick,” she shook her head, “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t even keep the dog?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, “That’s my baby, I’ll go to war over her.”

“You used to talk that way about me,” (y/n) rolled her eyes, “See this is exactly why we’re getting this divorce.”

“Maybe we should have tried counseling,” he hummed, “You know I don’t think it would be so bad.”

“A divorce?”

“No, if we were married,” he flushed, “I mean just cause we’re like best friends and everything…”

“Yeah but you don’t marry your best friend,” she laughed, “You marry the love of your life.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, you know,” he wrung his hands nervously, embarrassed he’d said anything at all.

“What? That’d we’d be a super hot celebrity power couple? Because that’s totally true,” she smiled, “We’d be the best dressed at every premier.”

“Yeah, we’d be a good power couple…”

“I’m sure you and your eventual wife will also be a power couple,” she squeezed his arm with a big smile, “Well, second wife.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, “Can you believe we kissed?”

She laughed, “Oh yeah, lucky you.”

He was upset he couldn’t remember their first, and possibly only kiss, he always imagined it would be more special. “It’s just weird not remembering any of it.”

“I just don’t even know where we got the idea,” she sighed, “I wonder if we drove by it or something…”

“I don’t know, maybe we just talked about it.”

“Maybe, like we got all drunk and got up in our feels.”

“Probably.”

“Tom, what's wrong?” she frowned at him.

“Nothing, I’m just hungover,” he insisted.

“Alright, well we can go lay down again after we sort this out.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They were quiet the rest of the drive, with Tom growing more and more anxious as they approached the courthouse. It wasn’t that he wanted to be married, but he wanted some kind of relationship. He wanted to confess that he liked the idea of kissing her and being married to her and all of that, he just couldn’t seem to spit it out.

“Hi,” (y/n) smiled at the woman at the front desk, “This is kind of embarrassing but we got really drunk last night and ended up getting married, we just needed to file for an annulment.”

“Happens all the time,” she nodded, “Just fill this out and we’ll call you back to get this sorted out.”

“Thanks,” she took a clipboard and sat down beside Tom, “Time to start dividing assets.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tom took the board from her and began scribbling information down.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad of a wife.”

“Ah, what’s got you in a sour mood Tommy?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “I’m just trying to get this over with.”

“(y/n).”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just sit here,” she sighed, “Guess we aren’t getting divorce ice cream after this huh?”

Tom said nothing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom continued to be quiet as they signed papers and drove back to the hotel, all (y/n) could get with her were one word responses. She wasn’t sure what had changed and made him so upset. She was worried he’d gotten a message from his managers or something.

“Tom come on, you can tell me what’s going on,” she begged, “I know you're upset.”

“It’s nothing okay? I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“But you aren’t, I know you aren’t, and I’m just trying to help, you know you can tell me anything.”

He pinched his nose, “I can’t tell you about this.”

“Of course you can,” she set her hand on his back with a frown, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know, today was just stressful.”

“I’m sure no one saw anything, somebody would have contacted you already.”

“Not about that,” he sighed.

“Okay, what about then?”

“What if I didn’t want to get the annulment?”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s you,” he blushed.

“You want us to have some kind of platonic marriage?” she laughed.

Without a word he cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers for a bruising kiss, “We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic.”

Her whole face flushed and her jaw hung open in shock, “You’re into me?”

“I’m completely crazy about you,” he nodded.

“S-So you want to marry me?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “Not right now at least. But I don’t want to throw away any chance of us being together.”

“Tom annulling our drunk Vegas wedding isn’t the same as throwing away any chance of us being together,” she bit her cheek, “I mean I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m into you.”

His cheeks flushed bright red, “Really?”

She nodded, “Obviously dummy, I don’t think I would have married you if I didn’t.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “So it would be cool if I wanted to take you on a date?”

“Very cool,” she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe this time we can wait a little longer for the proposal.”

“Yeah well a Vegas drive thru was never exactly my dream wedding anyway,” he squeezed her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Maybe we should go somewhere without alcohol though, just to be safe.”

“Considering my head’s still throbbing, I actually think I’m good on drinking for the rest of the year,” she got on her tiptoes, giving Tom another quick kiss.

“Speaking of which, how would you like to come take a hangover nap with me, girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a lovely use of our time, boyfriend.”

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Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey

[kaaytea]

hey! i hope youre doing great! if it isnt a problem, could you do atsumu, oikawa, sakusa and kuroo with a s/o who overthinks alot and notices that theyre hanging out with someone else alot recently and is scared that they're going to leave but they reassure reader that they won't leave? it'd be nice if it was fluffy :(((

Hi cutie! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! I apologize if Sakusa isn't very..Sakusa-y?? I'm still figuring him out a bit 😅 I tried my best to make it fluffy enough, I hope what I wrote will suffice

The Dangers of Overthinking

⤷Includes: Oikawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Sakusa

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

Oikawa

It's no secret that Oikawa is a pretty popular guy

And usually this doesn't bother you much, no matter how busy Oikawa was he always had little ways to reassure you he wasn't ignoring you

Gradually you started to notice him spending less time checking in on you throughout the day, the most you'd get is a pat on the head, a quick kiss, or a short text before Oiks slipped away with the rest of his team

You did your best to ignore the little voice in your head expressing that he was avoiding you. Oikawa was committed to his sport and that was fine, this behavior was normal

But the one thing you couldn't shake was whenever he went off with the team there was a person you didn't recognize in the group

You'd met his team HUNDREDS of times and by this point you knew everyone by name, number, and position from the hours you've sat with Tooru and watched game recordings. It was the middle of the season so they couldn't have suddenly got a new player

So who was this person? And why was your boyfriend always gravitating towards them?

Overthinking was dangerous for you, the longer you dwelled the further you fell into the dark doubts tucked into the back of your mind

This continued on for weeks until one day you just stayed in bed wrapped in blankets with only your thoughts

Setters are trained to notice small things, little details that could reveal a weakness in defense, anything that would help them decide who to set too

Oikawa was beautifully gifted in that aspect of a setter, it didn't take long to notice how distanced you'd become

Originally he thought it was a personal matter so he let you have your space, except unlike the other times you didn't bounce back. Infact, you were getting further from him the longer it went on

Oikawa quietly opened the door to your bedroom, letting his volleyball bag slip off his shoulder and placing it by the door

He sat down carefully on the side of your bed before he playful poked your side

"(y/n)-chaaan~"

You didn't respond and only pulled the sheets tighter around you causing a pout to form on his face

He gently pulled the sheets away from your head and pressed his hand to your forehead

"You don't have a fever so you're definitely not sick.....wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"You're not gonna leave me, right?"

Your voice was so quiet he just barely heard what you said

The hand on your forehead slipped down to your cheek, his thumb brushed softy across your cheek bone

"Why would I leave you?"

"You keep hanging around that person"

"Ah, be a little more specific sweetie"

"The blonde one! The blonde that's been hanging off you when you're with the team!"

You finally open up to him and what's he do? LAuGh! He's laughing at you!

Tears started to burn in your eyes as you quickly went to pull the covers over your head and flip onto your side facing away from him, only Oiks was a step ahead and pulled you into a sitting position facing him

"W-wait wait, Let me explain! (Y/n)-chan, that's our new manager. They've been helping me plan out drills for the team."

"Oh"

Well now you felt a bit silly

After a few seconds of silence you sighed and hid your face in Oikawa's shoulder. His arms wrapped around you body and he leaned back against your headboard

He spent the rest of the night holding you, whispering promises of never leaving you and how you're more important to him than anything else

Kuroo

Kuroo's friendly personality seemed to just attract people

I mean it was definitely something that hooked you so it was understandable why people tend to flock to him

It's just frustrating when he seems to have plans with people all the time, you barely see him these days

You didn't want to bring this to his attention in fear of being seen as clingy or controlling; Tetsu was your partner and had his own life, he wasn't a pet you could whistle for whenever you felt lonely

But you couldn't help but feel a bit....rejected

You were only about 5 minutes into lunch break and so far all you've done is lay your head on your desk and watched the rain fall outside

The gloomy day enhanced your depressed mood, your mind caught in the whirlpool of overthinking

Suddenly a little package was placed in front of you, followed by the sound of a chair being pulled up to your desk

You lifted your head from the desk only to find the very person that's been stuck in your mind sitting infront of you

"I got you melon bread from that bakery you like down the street, I would have given it to you earlier but you weren't here when I got to campus this morning."

"I missed my train..."

Kuroo snorted at your response and muttered something about you being cute before pulling out his lunch and beginning to eat

You opened the melon bread package, it looked delicious but your appetite seemed to have vanished

Kuroo watched you tear off a piece of the bread before placing the piece back on the wrappings with a sigh

Something was definitely wrong, you never turned down pastries from that bakery

"Not hungry?"

"Not really..."

"Did something else happen this morning? You're looking a bit...dejected"

You could never lie to Kuroo, and at this point you were so fed up with feeling alone that you didn't care about looking clingy, so you told him

He listened carefully to what you said and when you finished your rant he reached over the desk to hold your hands in his

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. It won't happen again, I promise.....You've gotta tell me these things though, ok? I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

You could tell he meant every word he said, if there was one thing you knew about Kuroo it was that he prided himself on staying true to his promises

You felt a weight off your shoulders the second he pressed a kiss to your hand

You even got your appetite back and devoured the melon bread he got you!

Atsumu

You'd of never expected Atsumu to spend time with someone outside of the volleyball team

Especially one of his fan girls of all people

All this interaction between the two started abruptly during lunch break. The girl had bounced up and pulled him away from your little group before anyone could get a word in, everyone just stared as the blonde was dragged down the hall

You were use to the fan girls, 'Tsumu never gave them the time of day so it was never a problem, but this just felt...off

Why was he suddenly paying attention to one of them? Was he bored of you? We're you just not enough to satisfy his ego?

You were torn from your thoughts by a gentle call of your name

You turned your attention from the clipboard in your lap to the direction of the voice meeting Kita's soft but steady eyes

"You seem less energetic than normal, have you eaten anything today?"

"Oh I'm fine Kita-senpai, you don't have to-"

You were cut off by him handing you a banana and a rant about how even their manager has to be in peak condition

You couldn't refuse Kita so you took the food with a smile and powered through the rest of practice

You left immediately after you finished cleaning the gym, ignoring the calls from Atsumu to wait up for him

You tried to walk fast so he wouldn't be able to catch up but the universe seemed to be against you as he easily jogged up to you minutes after you left

"Wassup with ya today? Kita-san said you were actin' weird."

"I'm surprised you noticed he said anything, your attention seems to be on other people."

Atsumu stepped infront of you, blocking you from walking further down the road

"Wass that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know Miya, why don't you ask your little fan girl"

You stepped around him attempting to run the rest of the way home but his hand grabbed your arm, spinning you back around to face him

Atsumu's hands held you in place to keep you from running away

"That's what this is about? That annoyin' scrub who won't leave me alone?"

"Annoying scrub?"

Atsumu went on explaining how he was partnered with her for a project in Japanese history and how even after they finished the project she wouldn't leave him alone (no matter how many times he told her to go away)

After he explained you felt a little better but you still felt insecurities scratching at your mind

You reached out for his hand and started walking again, keeping your eyes on the ground as you walked

"You didn't think I was cheatin' on ya.....right?"

"....."

".....I'd never leave ya for someone like that, yer the only one I've got my eyes on. Plus, yer the only person I've found that can tolerate me."

You laughed slightly at that, he wasn't completely wrong. Atsumu was a rather complex person but you found something enjoyable in that complexity

He let go of your hand and pulled you into his side, keeping his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked

Sakusa

Ok so maybe you were a bit jealous

Not much, but just a bit

You should have expected Sakusa would have admirers as the ace of Itachiyama (not to mention he was a very handsome guy)

But it still catches you off guard with how outwardly flirty your fellow manager was

Like they even know you're in a relationship with Kiyoomi and yet they continue to throw themselves at him

Being jealous over that was honestly very silly on your part because Sakusa has expressed their flirting makes him uncomfortable

So really there wasn't anything to worry about

Well...

That is until one day you overheard them telling Sakusa they enjoyed going out last night and that they should do it again

Which he responded with a "maybe"

If you were paying attention you would have noticed the flat tone to his voice and how his body language exuded 'Im very uncomfortable please go away'

But you being you, the second the manager opened their mouth your mind shut down and your blood went cold

They went out together last night?

You avoided everyone for the rest of practice, offering instead to clean practice jerseys and water bottles

Those were jobs usually done by two people but you needed to get away from everyone and you were hoping the jobs would take up the rest of practice

By the time you were nearly done with cleaning the water bottles, Sakusa had joined you at the outside fountain, mask pulled up on his face, his bag on one shoulder and yours on the other

"Do you want help?"

"You don't have to Omi.....it's my job anyways"

Despite your dismissal of his offer, he placed both your bags down and helped you clean the rest of the bottles, even going as far as carrying them back into the gym for you

You followed him over to the equipment room, you unlocked the door and took the box from his arms and put it on It's shelf

"You ready to go?"

"Almost, I have to throw the jerseys into the dryer. You can go on ahead without me."

"I'll wait, I want to avoid Komori. I don't feel like being dragged out with his friends again."

Dragged out with his friends? So it wasn't a secret date, Sakusa was forced to go by his cousin

Sakusa made his way by you to the gym's laundry room, Swifty tossing the practice jerseys into the dryer and then returning to your side

"You can stop worrying now, I know you overheard our conversation earlier. I would have much rather spent the night with you than them....they're too pushy for my liking."

He picked up your bags again and offered you his arm (something he much preferred over holding hands)

though he was usually a stoic person, you could just see the warmth his eyes held as he looked at you

You linked your arm with his, soaking up the heat from his body and the calm atmosphere that surrounded him

[onceuponabarnes]

Focus, Sir

summary \\ ceo!bucky and assistant!reader confront their feelings after a late night in the office together

word count \\ 1.4k

warnings \\ possible age gap relationship hinted (not mentioned, though), boss/employee relationship

this was written as part of @celestialbarnes​‘s 4k writing challenge, using the prompts ceo!bucky and “stop biting your lip, i can’t focus at all” “make me” which have been put in bold :)

Being James Barnes’ assistant wasn’t exactly the typical job you thought you’d be accepting. You thought you’d be making appointments and posting letters and collecting dry cleaning, not poring over his diary by soft lamp light in the early hours of the morning with your faces only inches apart.

“You can’t make that appointment,” you said, pushing the post-it note towards him. “You’ve already got a meeting with Steve about the last quarter and those usually run on for over 2 hours,” you told him.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, dropping his weight back into his chair. “God, what would I do without you, doll?” he asked dramatically.

“I don’t know, sir,” you chuckled, your attention turning back to the papers in front of you, pen pulled between your teeth.

“I can’t keep you here all night, doll. Go home,” Bucky urged after glancing at the clock, seeing it tick closer and closer to 2am.

“With all due respect, sir, I’d be going home to an empty apartment and a load of laundry to do whilst I wait for take out to arrive. This seems like a much better use of my time,” you told him sweetly.

Bucky looked at you skeptically, eyes squinting slightly before finally letting out another heavy sigh. “Whatever you say, love. And please, for the love of God, I’ve told you it’s Bucky or James,” he said with a soft smile. “Sir makes me feel ancient.”

“My apologies, Bucky.”

“I do like your idea of take out, though. Have you ever tried that 24 hour chinese place down the street? They do amazing chow mein!” he enthused, already reaching into his desk drawer to pull a menu out and thrust it in your direction.

“I haven’t, but I trust you not to give me food poisoning,” you chuckled, accepting the menu and opening it out over the clutter in front of you.

An hour later, you’d moved to the seating area in the corner of Bucky’s office, overlooking Brooklyn from 50 stories up. Your feet were pulled up on the couch next to you, shoes discarded by the desk what seemed like hours ago. “You were right,” you told Bucky, tapping your chopsticks together in the direction of the food you were eating.

You seemed to have broken him out of some sort of daze, earning a small jolt and a soft hum in reply. “About the food. Very nice,” you said softly.

“I know the best spots in Brooklyn for everything, doll,” Bucky grinned, voice effortlessly smooth even as it fast approached dawn and neither of you had slept since the previous morning.

“You might have to show me one day,” you grinned before your eyes widened. “Oh, god! I didn’t mean it like that! Not that I wouldn’t like that but- Oh, Jesus. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, doll,” Bucky chuckled, finally putting you out of your flustered misery. “I’d love to show you around,” he added, voice just as soft as the gentle blush rising over his ears. “If you’d want to, I mean.”

Before you even got a chance to reply, to accept his offer, his office phone started ringing. His eyes darted to the clock before he let out a long groan. “That’ll be Stevie in London. I swear he doesn’t realise that time zones are a real thing.”

You hid your giggle in your next mouthful of noodles as Bucky traipsed over to the desk. “Steven, it is 3am. If what you have to say isn’t life-alteringly urgent, I would like to get back to having chinese with my lovely assistant,” he quipped.

You couldn't hear what was being said, but if your knowledge of Steve and Bucky’s eye roll were anything to go off of, Steve was apologising for not realising that 8am in London meant 3am in Brooklyn and that he’d ring Bucky back at a better time. “It’s fine, Stevie. Just send me it all in an email and we can discuss it later on, yeah?”

As the two of you scraped the scraps out of your take-out tubs, Bucky looked to the clock again. “I’ll walk you out once we’re done here. And if I see you back in this office before noon, I will fire you,” he told you, already reaching to grab the plastic bag that the food came in.

“No you wouldn’t,” you scoffed, finishing your last mouthful before putting the box and chopsticks into the bag.

“And how do you know that?” Bucky asked, a flair of sass jerking over his eyebrow.

“You’d be lost without me, Barnes,” you smirked. You watched as he tried to formulate an argument, give you one example of how he’d functioned perfectly well without a single ounce of your help.

“You’ve got me there, doll,” he smiled lazily, tiredness seeming to seep into his facial features as he stood up to finish tidying the remnants of your supper away. “What can I say? I only surround myself with the best,” he smirked.

You and Bucky tidied your things away in silence, only speaking to let him know that you were returning your pile of papers to your desk. He met you out there, turning the key in the lock to his office door as you locked your desk drawers. “Come on, doll. I’ve kept you long enough.”

As you stood side by side waiting for the elevator, you turned to him slightly. “I’d love for you to show me around Brooklyn… If the offer’s there,” you told him nervously, pulling your lip between your teeth and gnawing at the skin.

You watched as Bucky blushed and fumbled over his words. “Unless the offer isn’t there…” you trailed off, mortified that you’d read the situation wrong and just taken your boss up on the offer of a date that was never even made.

“No, no! The offer’s definitely there,” Bucky rushed out, turning to you jerkily. “You’ve just gotta stop biting your lip, doll, I can’t focus at all on what I’m trying to say.”

The elevator opened in front of you and Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you into the carriage and following right behind you. As soon as the doors had slid shut, you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Make me, sir,” you goaded.

You watched as Bucky took a deep breath, nostrils flaring slightly. “You can’t go saying shit like that, doll. A guy might get the wrong idea,” he told you stiffly, fingers tightening into a fist by his side.

“I don’t think I’m giving anyone the wrong idea, sir,” you said, voice barely above a whisper even though it hung loud in the small carriage of the elevator. You risked a look at him, peeking out from under your eyelashes to see Bucky staring right back at you.

In an instant, you’d been crowded up against the side wall of the carriage, Bucky’s chest holding you in place. His flesh hand came and rested on your cheek, metal hand cupping your jaw. 

“Please,” you whispered when you saw him hesitate. “Bucky… James,” you pleaded.

His lips were soft against yours, smooth and firm and just right. The first moments of the kiss with him were the best kiss you’d ever had, and that was before he slipped an arm around your back to press you closer and raise you up on your toes. One of your hands slipped under his unbuttoned suit jacket, resting about his waist, and the other reached up to tease the hairs at his neck.

“God, doll, the things you do to me,” Bucky groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Been wanting to do that since your interview,” he chuckled, reaching down to press a soft peck to your lips.

“Took you long enough,” you grinned, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth again as you tried to hide your growing smile. Bucky’s gaze drifted down, to the tight line of your lip, and his eyes darkened ever so slightly.

“What did I tell you about that lip, missy.”

[atlafan]

Juvenile and Family Law, is it something that a kid dreams of practicing? No, not really. Is that where the big bucks are if you’re not interested in taxes and wills? Yes, it is. College is expensive, and so is law school; gotta pay it off somehow. It takes a while to build your clientele, a lot of it is word of mouth. You work your way up, and slowly but surely, build a good reputation for yourself. And if you’re lucky, you’ll make partner.

Harry Styles is good at his job, and is on the brink of making partner at his firm. Gallagher, Hilson & Associates Family Law is a great place to work. Isaiah Gallagher and Maria Hilson are two incredible lawyers, and the other associates Harry works with aren’t too bad either. He doesn’t always love working nearly sixty hours a week, and some of the cases he handles have caused him to see the bottom of one too many bottles, but other than that, he’s happy.

Family Law means working all kinds of cases. Custody, spousal support, paternity, and divorce. All of those cases are messy, rarely are they clean cut. Harry happens to specialize in divorce, which in turn can lead to all of the other things listed above. What’s worse is that a lot of his clients will often flirt with him, so he’s started to wear a fake wedding band to ward off any and all inappropriate behavior. It doesn’t happen every time, but it was often enough that he decided to find a way to just avoid the unwanted attention.

Due to how many hours he works a week, Harry’s social life is a little lackluster. By the time he gets home work, all he wants to do is kick his shoes off, plop down on the couch with some greasy Chinese food, and catch up on some television. He lives in a nice enough building in the city. His apartment has one bedroom, and one and half baths. On Friday nights, he’ll go out with some of the other associates for a drink, so he gets a bitof social time in. He’s not lonely, he actually quite enjoys the quiet and solitude. He’s got a cat, Gerry, short for Geraldine that he takes care of. He has what he needs, and he’s perfectly content.

Whenever he dates, people always want to talk about his work. The last thing Harry wants to talk about after a long day at work, is more work. So, he sticks to meaningless hookups, and his own hand, when he needs that type of release.

He doesn’t have too much to complain about. He’s thirty, and massively successful. Some of his friends still live at home while working retail jobs, not that he’s judging. He was twenty-six when he moved out, and he’s grateful his parents let him stay rent free so he could save up for his own place. He doesn’t like to compare himself to others, but it makes him feel good to know he’s all set. He works hard, yes, but it’s all worth it.

//

With how quiet his personal life is, it’s hard to imagine Harry being a shark in the courtroom, but he is. He’s a master in the art of persuasion and rhetoric. Having been a communication major in his undergrad career, and all. He knows how to read a room, and how to read people. The jury is just an audience waiting to watch a live performance. His theater minor also comes in handy here. Being a lawyer is an act, a role he plays. He knows how to play the part when it’s in a large courtroom, or when it’s just a small meeting in a conference room to divide up assets. It’s not always easy, but he makes it look that way. Harry typically wins most of his cases, and when it’s something small, he’s usually able to get his client the majority of what they asked for. Every customer leaves happy.

These skills can’t all be taught and learned. Some people are born with natural talent, skills they learn to hone in on and perfect. It’s a craft that Harry has worked on for years. Again, he’s only thirty, but because he has such precision and talent, it makes him the hot commodity. The office is constantly getting calls for him. It’s why they want him to become the next partner. Having his name on the plaque as you enter would surely put people at ease. Isaiah and Maria saw potential in Harry from the beginning, and they feel lucky that he’s one of their associates.

There other very qualified associates as well, like Niall – who specializes in custody cases – he’s well on his way up. There’s Candice – who specializes in prenuptial agreements – she got into the lawyer game a little later in life, but she’s as sharp as a whip, and shouldn’t be underestimated. And lastly, there’s Byron – who specializes in paternity cases – he thinks he’s going to be the next partner because he’s a bit full of himself.

Harry and Niall are the closest in age, so they hang out more often. They both really like baseball, and will go to a game or two during the season. Candice is the surrogate mother figure. She has no children of her own, she’s the fun aunt to her nieces and nephews, but she feels oddly maternal towards Harry and Niall. The boys often call her “Ma”, instead of her actual name, and she loves it. She looks out for them, and there when they need someone to listen. She’s fifty-seven, and enjoys baking in her free time. She often brings the boys homemade muffins on Monday mornings, and they adore her for it.

Byron…well…Byron is a forty-year-old womanizer who totally clashes with Harry. Does Harry have one-night stands? Yes. Does he ever lie to his partners? No. Byron enjoys playing the game in all facets, and Harry never takes part in it. Needless to say, Harry hates when he has to partner with him on a case, and avoids it when he can.

Isaiah and Maria each have their own executive assistant, or para: Michele and Kyla. They’re both in their late twenties, and rocking it. Harry only interacts with them over email. He, Candice, Niall, and Byron all share the same administrator: Ronnie. Ronnie is twenty-six, friendly, and organized. She doesn’t have time to help everyone on their briefs, but that’s what interns are for, and there’s an abundance of them circling throughout the office.

Harry has a nice office. Plenty of natural light from the windows, he has a desk riser so he can stand up periodically, and he even has his own mini fridge. (He’s often paranoid about people taking his Bubbly, so he just brought in his own fridge.) He’s got a decent enough view of the city; he likes it best at night when the twinkling lights come through. It reminds him of how lucky he is to be where he is in life. He knows he’s more fortunate than others, so he tries to be grateful. He gives back when he’s able, donate to different scholarship funds and whatnot.

Harry is a good man.

//

On a particularly cloudy morning, Ronnie lets Harry know his 10AM consult has arrived. He didn’t know much about his new potential client, but he was always willing to hear someone out. He stands up from his desk, and waits for the woman to enter.

In walks a young woman wearing an expensive, red pantsuit, black heels, and a dark red lipstick. She gives a soft smile to Ronnie before she closes the door. Harry walks over to her, extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Harry.”

“Mira.” She shakes his hand.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the two seats on the other side of his desk and they both sit. “What brings you to my office today?”

“I heard you’re a pretty good divorce lawyer, and I need a divorce.”

“Is your spouse aware that you’re seeking counsel?”

“No.” She shakes her head and swallows. “I…I’d be putting myself in danger if he knew I wanted to leave him.”

“What kind of danger? If he’s physically abusive, then you need to- “

“He doesn’t put his hands on me like that. It’s…I don’t love him, and I never have. I was essentially…I was sold to him; it was an arranged marriage. I thought maybe I could learn to like him, to love him, but it’s been three years, and I can’t stand him. I need legal help.”

“What do you mean you were sold to him? Were you a child bride? Were you sex trafficked?”

“No.” She chews on her bottom lip. “He made a deal with my father. Thomas got me in exchange for…something. I can’t get into what exactly with you just yet.”

“Does he think you’re happy?”

“Yes.” She nods. “Well, for the most part. I do my thing, and he does his. His job keeps him pretty busy, and I often pretend to be asleep when he gets home. He doesn’t satisfy my needs, so to speak, and I’ve given up on trying. I want to be freed from him.” She pulls out a packet of paper from her purse, and gives it to Harry. “That’s a copy of the contract he and my father signed when they made the deal. I’m not great with legal jargon. I thought maybe if you decide to take me on you could look that over and tell me if there’s any way, I can get out of this.”

“Are you over eighteen?”

“Yes, well over.”

“And were you over eighteen when you were married?”

“Yes.”

“Then how could your father barter you?”

“Where I come from…it can just be like that. The goods we get in exchange for my hand outweighed my happiness.”

“I’m so sorry.” Harry frowns. “My services aren’t exactly cheap.”

“I wouldn’t expect them to be. I can pay top dollar, if that’s what you require. I have money of my own.”

“Alright.” Harry sets the packet of papers onto his desk. “I’ll take a look at that soon, and give you a call.”

“Does that mean you’re taking me on?”

“I hate to see such a nice person be so unhappy.” Harry frowns. “I got into this business to help people, so I’ll help you, Mira.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” She smiles. “There are going to be some things in that contract that may shock you, so please don’t hesitate to call me directly with your questions.” She takes out a business card from her purse. “There’s all of my contact information. If anyone other than myself contacts you regarding all of this, don’t say a word.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at keeping things confidential.”

“I heard you’re a very trustworthy attorney.” She nods, and stands to her feet. Harry does the same. “Thank you for taking the time to listen.” She extends her hand, and he takes it to shake.

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.” He smiles and opens the door. He watches her leave, maybe for a little too long.

[DARK SIDED, COMING TO PATREON ON SATURDAY, OCTOBER 2ND @ 8AM EST] [Ask]

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! I have an idea for an one-shot for fnati:

Although the reader was scared in the beginning, they now get along with Treasure Island’s inhabitants very well, except two.

Mascot PNM and Undying.

The reader is already unsettled by normal mascots, but really scared of these two.

Maybe something bad happens, or they are in a dangerous situation and they get help from the mascots. How would a situation play out where they get help from one of their fears? :]

I hope this isn’t too long, or much. Have a lovely day!

These two are my comfort characters aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ty!!!!

................

"Mascots..ugh..I can't stand mascots."

With a slight shiver, you switched the camera from the costume department to the kitchen. You didn't mind seeing whatever character was in there.

Anyone would be better than the mascots, specifically Undying and Photonegative Mickey. You never knew why you were so...freaked out by them, of all things.

Then again, normal mascots always scared you as a child. It ruined a few family trips to Disney but it's not like you could control your fears.

Seeing a character like Mickey Mouse as the size of a human, along with their static faces, just made you..uncomfortable.

You thought you've grown out of that fear until you encountered Undying in Pirate Caverns...and visions of someone trapped inside his suit, struggling to pull off his head. Then he started coming by your office, never speaking but just wandering around and breathing heavily.

It was odd because you were on friendly terms with the toons--who were far creepier in appearance. After helping them separate from the Hourglass amalgamation during you sixth shift, they let you work in peace, often stopping by the office to say hello.

Then came the update to your monitoring system that allowed you to alter their behavior through some unknown mechanism and meet new characters like Sparky, the toons' original suit forms, and...

That godforsaken Mascot Photonegative Mickey.

Unlike Undying, he could speak, but you were just as anxious seeing him on the cameras, holding some mallet. You'd rather not know if the stain on it were rust or blood.

In your heart, you didn't wanna be afraid of the mascots anymore. Hell, you became friends with aggressive toons like Pete faster.

If only you could work up the courage...maybe tomorrow night you will.

At some point during your shift, you heard the toons starting to talk over each other, but they sounded so garbled and jumbled.

It was like they were all in one place at the same time-

Wait.

Your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach when you realized that could only mean one thing. And as you checked the roof's camera, sure enough..

Hourglass was back.

"Oh no, no, no..why did they fuse again?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the beast closely, seeing that it was without a Mickey mask. Its actual face was human-shaped, with empty eye sockets and visible teeth--courtesy of Impurity.

Clearly something must have stressed the toons enough to merge like that. Getting them to separate the first time was a miracle in itself, even now they were still misshapen from that experience.

You just hoped they were okay and still remembered your friendship with them.

Or else this was going to be a very, very difficult night.

"I like your teeth".

Jumping at the voice that echoed throughout the whole premises, you checked the camera and saw that it abruptly left the roof, now nowhere to be seen. "Shit, shit, shit.." You scrambled to keep track of it, eventually calming down once you found where it went to.

"Okay so if it started on the roof then it must be taking...Face's path! So I gotta shut off the lights-"

"They won't be playin' that game anymore, bud."

Hearing the familiar hushed whisper, you slowly looked up and jumped in your seat, seeing the photonegative mascot looming over your desk. In a panic you scrambled to turn off the lights, but a white glove took your hand to prevent you from reaching it.

"Don't scream..he wants to help you, too."

"H-Help me?" You then looked to the hand's source, freezing as you gazed into the empty eyes of a certain 1970s mascot Mickey.

He stared back at you, raising his finger in a "hushing" motion before pointing towards the back of the office. As terrified as you were, you stayed silent and followed his gaze, shocked to see Hourglass right there.

The amalgamation seemed confused at the presence of the two costumes, but it just snarled at you. Clearly it was too unstable to recognize you as its friend.

Mascot brandished his mallet before looking back at you. "Hide."

Without question you ducked under the table just as Hourglass screeched and charged forward. You heard Mascot grunt as he slammed his weapon against the creature's jaw, after which it emitted a howl of pain.

"You oughta be ashamed of yourselves! Attackin' someone who brought light and joy back to this dark place! Why I oughta-!!!"

As the two fought, you sensed the presence of Undying under the table as well. Considering how still your whole body was, he wasn't sure if you were there and panicked slightly. But you, deciding to conquer your fear once and for all, tapped his shoulder to reassure him.

"I'm okay." You whispered, smiling as you realized how genuinely worried he was about you. He looked in your direction and seemed relieved, although you both tensed when the monitor was ripped off the table, crashing to the floor.

Then the table itself flipped over, and you saw Hourglass hovering over you with a grin. Undying got to his feet, ready to protect you with his life, but before anything else could happen-

The beast's head was struck from behind, looking comically dazed as it collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

You saw it was Mascot who saved you. "Welp, that did the trick." He huffed. Despite his suit being covered in ink spots, he seemed more concerned about cleaning off his mallet. "We can get 'em back to normal but..this is becomin' quite problematic-"

"Thank you...both of you. And..I-I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow. Undying gave you a similar gaze as he helped you stand up.

"I've just been..afraid of mascots for so long. I barely talk to either of you, and yet...you saved me and spoke of how much joy I brought back to this place." Your smile grew as you laughed a bit, now finding it silly how you were ever afraid of these two.

"Hmm, well a little duckie told us how sweet you've been to everyone, so-"

"Wait..you understand Disembodied?"

"Sure do. He also told us 'bout your fear."

"...oh."

"But we knew you'd come around eventually." Mascot chuckled. "This ain't the happiest place on earth, but you make it a lil' more bearable for us."

"I'm glad." You breathed a sigh of relief for the first time tonight.

Finally, you've overcome your worst fear, knowing they were on your side, too.

[prozd]

Bones of the Forgotten

For those unaware, when I was 12 years old, I used to write very gritty Mario fanfiction.  The only reason this exists is because we hit a charity milestone for Extra Life (which by the way you can still donate to here: https://www.extra-life.org/participant/450294)

I decided to write the sort of fanfiction that 12 year old me would've enjoyed writing, so here is my love letter to my youth.

A question block can come in handy in a variety of ways.  You just gotta know how to scrap it down.  Easily done enough with a precision focus Fire Flower blowtorch.  The first thing you gotta do is realize there's nothing bringing that sonuvabitch down; those fuckers float in the air forever no matter how much you push or pull 'em.  Instead, you gotta carve off pieces from it as it's floating up there. Awkward at first, but by the fiftieth time, it's fucking clockwork.

Melt down the pieces and you've got the golden goo perfect for crafting all sorts of nasty tools.  A bat made from question block has just enough lightness for a easy swing, but just enough density to still effectively break a kneecap.  A blade still won't pierce, say, a Chain Chomp, but it can at least pierce most Koopa shells.  Plus, some people just like the gold color; they think it looks sick.

I personally think the best use of question block goo is making bullets out of it.  They're denser than most others and they maintain their speed for longer. The only downside is they stand out if you leave them in a body at a crime scene, but that's irrelevant as long as you're cleaning up your messes properly.  If anyone had the time and resources to search the bottom of the sea near Rogueport Docks, I imagine you'd find a glittering trove of golden bullets scattered among the bones of the forgotten.

One of those bullets dances idly through my fingers as I listen to one of my subordinates, a Craw with the quite frankly unfortunate name of Garf, lament about his recent mistreatment by the Syndicate.

"Ishnail, they just stomped the shit out of us!  Gus and I, we weren't doin' NOTHIN' and those leafy fucks attacked us.  Everyone knows the Plaza's neutral territory, we gotta DO somethin' about this."

Craws get a bad rap, in my opinion.  They get labeled as savage, but I've always found them to be much more thoughtful than people would assume.  Even in this moment, as my eyes gaze upon Garf's tattered, bloodied vest and bandana, and his curved beak squawks in rage, I notice the slightest trace of tears at the very edges of his eyes.  Aw.

"Let me ask you one question, Garf."  Out of respect, Garf immediately goes silent. Again, thoughtful.  "Were you and Gus carrying your spears?"

"I......I mean.....we have to, it's part of Craw culture...."

"I'm well aware, but Garf, I'm sure YOU'RE well aware that no weapons are allowed in the Plaza.  I mean, at the very least, keep a goddamn gun hidden in your pocket, don't wave a fucking SPEAR around.  You're just asking for the Piantas to give you a beating."

I get up from the dingy sofa I've been lounging on and dust myself off.  "But I can't have Don Pianta thinking it's okay to fuck up my guys.  I'll have to have a word with the ol' mustachioed fuck."  I pat Garf on the cheek and wipe a tear away with my thumb.  He nods in appreciation.

I motion to two of my subordinates, a scrappy looking Goomba named Goomfrey and a laidback Hammer Brother named Hamma.  We step outside HQ and into the bustling, grimy streets of Rogueport's east side.  

As long as I've lived in Rogueport, it's always carried the smell of the sea in the air.  It's a welcome scent to me, having grown up in the Seaside Kingdom.  My mom was a Bubblainian; she raised me when my deadbeat Koopa dad left us, and what she gave me was the snail shell on my back and a love for the water.  Merchants shouting and the occasional "STOP, THIEF!" ring out as my muscle and I make our way through the Plaza.  We pass the gallows where the Shadow Queen's corpse was supposedly hung from one thousand years ago.  Fittingly gruesome lore for a city filled with murderous rat-bastards.

A sickly sweet scent starts to mingle with the smell of the sea and garbage I'm used to. It's an indication that we're entering the west side of Rogueport. Sure, it's a much tidier area than where the Robbos and I live; there may be fancy-ass things like "flowers" and "benches," how hoity-toity.  You can put lipstick on a Li'l Oink, but it still smells like shit.

We walk into Westside Goods.  There's no need for the customary password; Peeka, the Boo shopkeeper, knows why I'm here.  She opens up the back door, and we walk up the stairs in the back alley to Don Pianta's office.

"Ishnail, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Don Pianta stands behind his desk; as much as I hate to admit it, his presence is overwhelming.  "And you brought friends, too?" he notes as he sees Goomfrey and Hamma.

If you want to live long in Rogueport, every time you enter a room, you have to mentally gauge 1. the quickest way to escape, 2. who you may need to disable and/or kill to escape, and 3. how easy that's all going to be.  Two giant yellow Pianta in suits stand guard at both sides of the Don's desk. A blue Pianta in a white suit, the Don's underboss Frankie, closes the door behind us.  

Piantas are not easy to injure, let alone kill; I know this from years of tangling with the Don's gang.  The little palm trees and skirts would make you think otherwise, but Piantas are naturally built like fucking dump trucks and hit just as hard.  Hamma's a Glitz Pit fighter, and I've seen what he can do with that hammer.  Goomfrey gets underestimated for his species, but his reputation precedes him; he has bitten off more fingers than your average Rogueportian.  Still, a fight against four Piantas, even with my question block bullets, would be brutal.  It's telling that you never see a Pianta with a weapon because nothing will kill you faster than simply their own fists.

"Your men attacked mine, Don.  And for what, carrying spears?  You and I both know that's bullshit."

"My men....have been on edge.  Your little Bandit friends have been scuttling around, picking too many pockets they shouldn't be.  Keep that shit on the East Side where it belongs, and we'll be fine."

As Don Pianta talks, he habitually cracks his knuckles.  Out of all the Piantas in the syndicate, Don Pianta is truly a mammoth; his muscles are barely contained by the suit he's wearing.  Honestly, if he wasn't my ultimate arch-nemesis in this town, shit, I'd fuck him.  I like my men beefy.

"Alright, Don.  I'll tell my boys to keep their weapons out of the plaza.  You and I both know no one benefits if we fight in the streets.  Bad business for both your establishments and mine.  Let's keep things quiet."

"Agreed," The Don extends a giant hand.  I shake it firmly.

I turn to leave with my muscle in tow.  As I open the door to leave, I hear a whisper.

"Get your slimy shell outta here, you fuck."

I pause.  I give Goomfrey the look, and he smirks.  Goomfrey's eyes quickly dart and I know he's already memorizing every little detail about the yellow Pianta who whispered the insult.  Without another word, I close the door behind me.

---

There's one more use for question block goo I forgot to mention.  It's perfect for weighing things down.  

I breathe in the salty seaport air; it's particularly sweet tonight.  The golden bullet dances between my fingers; I know it's a bad habit, but it's fun to fidget with.  It'll go to good use though.  I load it into my Fire Flower pistol with a few others and carefully attach the silencer.

"Now, listen, uh...what was his name again?"

"Paulie," says Goomfrey, standing to my side with a grin.

"That's right, Paulie.  I'm a pretty patient person, I think most people including your boss would agree, but I've got a real sore spot about the shell, ya know?  It's just, it reminds me of my dear old ma, and I love her to bits.  You understand, right?"

There is no response from Paulie due to his crushed windpipe courtesy of Hamma's hammer.  Quite frankly, I'm impressed he's still conscious from the pain.  He looks up at me from his crouching position eyes filled with hate, his hands and feet encased in reforged golden question blocks.  Piantas are heavy, so four blocks worth is safest.

"I did promise the dear Don that I'd keep things quiet, so let's cut to the chase." I point the gun at his forehead and before he can react, I fire three shots.  There's no need to prolong this shit; I'm not a sadist. Hamma and Goomfrey pick up the body and toss it off the port into the sea.

"For what it's worth, boss," says Hamma in a low, pleasant baritone.  "I like your shell.  Looks good on ya."

"Aww, thanks."

[illneverrecover]

trust my love | pjy

➛pairing: Park Jinyoung x Reader ➛genre: librarian!reader, non idol!AU, Slice of Life!AU, fluff, humor  ➛word count: 2,343 ➛rating: E ➛warnings: I know we are shocked, but since this isn’t smut there isn’t many! Kissing, Making out in a library, Persistent Jinyoung. This is just softsoftcute. ➛summary: Jinyoung frequents the library in hopes of convincing you to go on a date on with him, but you’re not so easy to win over. Luckily, he’s not easily deterred. ➛notes: This is my piece for the Secret Admirer’s Project 2021 for @ksmutclub​! I’m a little nervous to post this because it’s the first time I’ve written about GOT7, however it was an honor to do so for @birbdae​. Thank you for playing along with my asks, Dae! It was fun to get to know you and I hope you like this! 🍒 Also shout out to my sweet sugar bb @taetaesbaebaepsae​ for beta reading and hyping me up, ily. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. ➛song: Trust My Love - GOT7 |  Love You Better - GOT7

“He’s here again."

Sighing heavily, you spin around, running your hands through your hair. Not that you cared what it looked like, of course. Why would you?  

“Is he headed this way?”

“No, it looks like he’s headed towards fiction, turning down..” Ara pauses, eyes scanning the room, “the literature aisle - classics, to be specific.” 

“Great.” 

Ara keeps her gaze trained on her mark, angling her body towards you. “What do you think he’ll bring you today?”

“As if I care,” you scoff, moving over to the restock cart and busying yourself by grabbing a stack of books to plop down next to your computer. You had already organized and prepped most of these already, but no one else knows that. “Believe it or not, my work day does not evolve around what’s-his-face showing up unannounced-”

“-his name is Jinyoung, and you know that-”

“-and I have important things to attend to. He’s just another customer, nothing else.”

You can feel her glare boring into your skull, but you refuse to give in to meet it. If you do, you’ll see the disbelief and frustration in her eyes, which will be an open invitation for Ara to give you yet another one of her famous ‘You Need To Live Your Life’ speeches, which you have no patience for today. 

She finally shrugs her shoulders, turning to grab the empty cart. “Whatever you say, dear. I’m off to get the books from the front drop off,” she glides away, the cart squeaking at her increased pace, “have fun with Jinyoung!” 

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, wondering how long it’ll be before the man in question comes striding up to your desk, a book tucked under his arm and a disarming smile in tow.

He had been coming into your library now for what felt like years, but in reality was only a few weeks. You aren’t sure what started his interest in you - his first day in your check out line had been a brief and altogether forgettable encounter - but since that day, he has come in three times a week like clock work. He always returns a book, spends anywhere between fifteen and twenty minutes pursuing the stacks, fingers dragging against the spines, seemingly searching for something. And then he finds you, regardless of what floor you are working and what your current task is, and chats you up while you scan his library card, shuffling him out the door as quickly as you can.

Conversation started off innocent at first, usually small talk about whatever read he had just finished and dropped off in the return box. You pride yourself on being polite and professional, even if it was clear he had other intentions. But it was when he began asking more about you, inquiring about your days off  that you felt your hackles raise. The next time he returned a book, he skipped the pleasantries, instead leaving you with a wink and a slip of paper with his phone number inside the pages, right next to the author note. 

‘Go on a date with me?’

Such a simple phrase shouldn’t have caused such havoc in your life, and yet here you were.

Your traitorous co-workers all though it was so sweet, so romantic how he pursued you. Nevermind that he had the face of the type of man who has done this before, who likely has a contact list a mile long of names attached to pretty women that would all fawn over him at a moment’s notice. Or the fact that he clearly came from money; his designer peacoats and dress shirts always crisp, clean, and the complete opposite of anything you owned. 

No, this wasn’t a budding romance - if anything, it was a classic case of a man who liked the chase, even if you refused to run. 

The clearing of a throat pulls you from your thoughts, eyes snapping to address the intruder. “Can I help you with something?” 

“Hi, yes you can. I’d like to check out this book, please.” Jinyoung smiles brightly, eyes dancing with mirth. He’s dressed in a warm khaki color sweater today, the tips of a white collar peeking out of the neckline and tucked into his perfect pressed slacks. He’s handsome, and you both know it. 

Seemingly catching you staring, he raises a brow in question, one that you promptly ignore. Instead, you hold out your hand impatiently, waiting for him to share which novel he’s going to try to use to impress you with today. When you glance down at the title, your eyebrow raises. 

“The Ghost Bride, hmm? Doesn’t really seem like your type,” you mutter, taking the book and flipping it to scan it. His library card awaits beside it, the elegant script of his signature seemingly taunting you. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to pick up something else? I can show you where the picture books are-”

“Nope, this was the right one. I’m just following your recommendations, you know. This was your pick of the week.” 

You scowl, swiping his card under the scanner before grabbing the automatically printed receipt, sliding his items back towards him across the counter. You had forgotten about the ‘See What Our Librarians Recommend!’ board that Mark had put up earlier in the week in an attempt to engage more with the customers. There hadn’t been much thought behind your pick other than it was one you enjoyed; getting immersed into other cultures and their traditions one of the easiest ways to relax your mind. But now you felt self conscious, like he was peering into your head. 

You shake the thought away, turning back to your screen. “Yes, I’m aware of that. Well, have a nice day, I gotta get back to work.” 

“Have you thought about the answer to my question?”

Jinyoung is still waiting at the counter, a small but earnest smirk tugging at his lips, eyes locked on to yours. If you didn’t know any better, you would think his curiosity was genuine with how he stared, how kind he was. 

But you knew better. 

“Yes, and the answer is no. I’m not looking to date right now,” you huff, breaking his gaze once more. There was something intense about how he looked at you, and it made your nerves dance under your skin. 

“May I ask why?”

Sighing, you close your eyes, counting the breath as you pull it into your lungs. What a loaded question. There were thousands of answers, a multitude of reasons why it was a bad idea to accept a date from the handsome stranger that frequents your library. Which would be acceptable to share; that you’ve had your heart broken more times than you care to admit, and don’t want to be hurt again? That you’re too immersed in your work and your goals that you don’t have time for a relationship? Or that you spend your days lost between the pages of books, delving into new worlds and reading about loves so pure and avowed that you know anything you come across in real life will be a disappointment?

Instead of those truths, you give him a tight smile. “Because I don’t know you, and you haven’t earned one yet.” 

There was an unspoken challenge in those words, but you didn’t care. You knew that Jinyoung with his pretty face and captivating charm would give up soon, and when that time came, you’d breathe a sigh of relief and continue about your life just as it was before he came in it. 

“I get it, you don’t trust me,” he looks down at his shoes, inhaling deeply before returning his amber eyes to you. “But I’m serious. I’ll prove it to you.” 

He stands there a beat more, as if he wanted to be sure you understood his promise before turning and walking away, giving a final grin over his shoulder. 

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

The harsh refusal of his proposal didn’t deter Jinyoung in the least, if anything, it renewed his commitment. He continued his visits to the library, this time determined to speak with you more, get to know you better. He had befriended Mark shortly into his endeavors and your traitorous coworker had told him everything he knew about you - favorite foods, your favorite color, sweets you indulged on when the mood was right. And Jinyoung had weaponized this information, bringing you Peruvian lilies  in the palest of lilacs, leaving tiny boxes of nougat de montelimar on your cart on top of the books for you to find. 

Each time he came to your check out line, he was prepared with a new book and more questions, always briefly discussing his thoughts on the novel before peppering you with inquiries about anything from mundane preferences to how your parents were doing. 

The most infuriating part was it was working. The once practiced guard you had built around yourself slowly coming undone piece by piece, day by day as Jinyoung gave you patient smiles and cheeky winks. Your heart was softening to his antics, and soon you caught yourself thinking about what a date with him would be like, how being the sole object of his affections somewhere that isn’t covered in a fine line of dust and doesn’t smell like old books would make you feel.

It’s this train of thought you’re lost in when he strides up to your counter, another book in his arms, face lighting up once he sees you. 

“Hi, beautiful. Just this for me today,” he murmurs, placing the book he selected directly into your hands instead of on the counter as usual. 

You didn’t have to look at the cover to know which novel he’d handed you, the story itself being so familiar that you could recognize it by the weight of it in your hands alone. “You’re telling me you haven’t read The Great Gatsby before?”

He chuckles then, head ducking down sheepishly. “Ah, it was one of those we had to read in school ages ago, but I don’t really remember it. I wasn’t as into books back then.” 

You nod, remembering how your peers didn’t seem to be as obsessed with reading as you had been. “That’s fair. This is one of those that the meaning tends to be lost on a bunch of teenagers, anyway.” Scanning the book and his card, you place it back in his open palm, feeling like you were giving him a tiny piece of your heart.

“I decided to give it another shot - since it's your favorite, and all.” 

Warmth spreads in your cheeks and you wonder briefly if he notices the way you fight a smile. It had been a passing comment, something said while he watched you restock the non fiction section one afternoon, but the fact he remembered caused something in your chest to ache. 

“Well, let me know what you think. I mean, if you’re able to follow along, that is.” 

His slow smirk transforms into a beaming smile, his face softening as he tucks the novel under his arm. “I think I’ll manage. I’ve been able to keep up so far,” his gaze drops to drag over your form before meeting your eyes. “And I’ve been loving every minute.”

He wasn’t talking about books, and the thought had you floating on air for the rest of your shift. 

That night, when you’re safely tucked into bed and far away from the library, you grab the wrinkled slip of paper and type Jinyoung’s number into your phone.

The metal of the old bookcase was ice against your bare skin, back arching up as you lick into Jinyoung’s mouth. What started off as a gentle press of lips in the back stacks of the reference section quickly intensified when his tongue sought yours, the kiss hungry and dripping of pent up desire. 

You hadn’t planned on anything happening, only wanting the abandoned aisles so that you could accept his date offering without your coworkers lurking, not wanting to do it over text. However you didn’t account for Jinyoung’s excitement, the way he looked like he won the lottery when you told him before swiftly backing you into the shelves in a heated kiss - not that you’re complaining. 

His body is firm as he presses into you, hands cupping your cheeks in a gentle way that offset his fervent exploration of your mouth. You melt under his touch, body seeking him like a moth to flame, unwilling to leave his warmth.

“Jinyoung,” you breathe, pushing him away from your lips. “We probably shouldn’t do this here.”

He chuckles, a hand snaking around your waist to tug you close once more. “Probably not. But you have no idea how long I’ve been dying to do that.” 

“Do what? Fondle me in a dusty library?”

He shakes his head lightly before leaning in, his mouth inches from your own, the look in his eyes seizing the air in your lungs. “He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.”

Swallowing thickly, you ignore the painful gallop of your pulse, the way your defenses seem to crumble each time you’re in his presence. You don’t tell him how much it means to you that he didn’t give up, that he did all of these things just to earn your trust. That he put in so much effort to learn everything about you, took time to memorize the lines from your favorite novel just to make you smile.

Instead, you look up at him through heavy lashes, an easy grin on your lips.  “Did you just quote ‘The Great Gatsby’ at me?” Giggling, you swat his arm. “That was a little cheesy.” 

Jinyoung just meets your gaze, says everything with how he peers into your eyes without saying anything at all. “It only gets better from here, trust me.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 4

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Not everything is what it seems.

Note: I’m getting this chapter out before I’m clogged up with work. Y’all take care of yourselves and I hope you have a Happy Halloween.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Despite your agitation, your isolation slowly reinstilled a sense of stability in you. Even if you were trapped, even if you had little choice in being there, the cabin with the bullet proof windows and advanced security system calmed your wearing nerves. And without a phone, you could not be reminded of, or harassed by the faceless villain who had turned your life on its head.

The first day dragged by as you spent hours pacing in your room and tossing and turning on the mattress. Sure, you were annoyed with Bucky and his demands, his often mercurial moods, but you recalled Steve’s words and they abated your irritation. You could still be in your apartment, still be entirely clueless to your shadowy stalker, still be a sitting duck swimming through dark waters. But you were safe with two super soldiers, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

Steve brought you a pre-packaged meal and you ate alone at the desk after trading him for your grocery list. 

You stared out the window at the shedding trees and the frozen ground, the critters gathering what they could for their nests and burrows. The preserved potatoes were powdery and stuck to your tongue; the gravy lumpy and bland. You tossed the tray in the bin under the desk and rolled yourself in your covers.

That nail in your skull hadn’t quite relented yet and the knot in your stomach only wound tighter. You were still tender between your legs but the levee had yet to break. You laid awake through the night but for the few hours before sunrise. You awoke with stiff muscles and a heavy head. No longer a sharp pain at the top but a dull pulsing just above your neck.

You went back to the desk, wrapped in the quilt formerly folded over the end of the bed and slid open the drawer. You stirred through the hotel quality contents; cheap pens, a notepad, and a handful of mints. Odd but you supposed you weren’t the first occupants of the safe house.

You took out a blue pen and the pad of paper. You looked out the window and etched in ink the scene on the other side of the glass. You weren’t particularly skilled but the points of the tall pines and the sprawling arms of the walnut tree were simple enough. Little scribbles to show the twigs and pinecones at their feet. You blindly scratched the nib against the thin paper until you heard a knock at your door.

“You awake?” Bucky’s voice came clear through the door.

You put the pen down and cloaked yourself once more in the quilt as you stood. “Yeah,” you called back as you leaned against the edge of the desk. “What is it?”

Bucky carefully turned the handle and opened the door. He wore his high collared jacket with its chest pockets and two more lower down. His leather-sheathed knife hung from his belt, its tip poking out from beneath his coat, and he twisted a pair of gloves in his hands. He let the door fall completely open and lingered in the frame.

“I’m going into town. Steve will be here.” He said as his blue eyes bore into you. “You okay?”

You shrugged and pulled the blanket tighter around you. 

“You want me to turn the heat up?” He asked. You didn’t answer. “Look, I’m sorry about last night. About being so blunt but you have to understand, you panicking isn’t helping anyone.”

“Why wouldn’t you at least tell me about something like that? About the drawings?” You snapped. “I have a right to know.”

He sniffed and let out a long breath. “You really don’t want to know everything. Alright. I was just coming to make sure your list was final. Anything I need to add?”

“Just sweeping it aside? Just like that?”

“Honey, you don’t need to worry about this creep. Me and Steve will. You just need to be patient,” He neared you with decisive steps, “And listen to us. We’re your lifeline, it’s about time you start using it.”

“Don’t.” You huffed. “Don’t call me ‘honey’.”

He tilted his head and his eyes sparked. His lips curved slightly as he considered you.

“Sorry,” he said rigidly. “I guess… I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

You watched him as he pulled on his gloves and bent his fingers, flexing his hands as he pushed his shoulders back.

“So, I don’t need to grab anything else while I’m out?” He prodded. “You got enough clothes--”

“Yeah,” you said sharply, “I should be fine. I’d say that list is the least of my worries.”

He smiled and scoffed. “Alright, h-- You need anything, you let Steve know. He’s downstairs trying to figure out breakfast.”

You nodded as he stared at you. He rubbed his hands together and backed away. He turned and stopped at the door.

“If you really want the truth,” he looked over his shoulder, “He killed again. Two girls in as many nights…” He shook his head and tutted. “He seems pretty desperate. It’s a good thing you’re here. With us.” He stepped out into the hall and you barely heard his last word. “Safe.”

👁️

You found Steve in the kitchen grimacing at a bag of oats. His hair was slightly askew and he wore a sweatshirt which would be loose on any other man but clung to his broad chest and thick arms. His blue eyes bore a semblance of fatigue and he looked up as you neared the other side of the long walnut island.

“There’s coffee,” he smiled. “Do you like oatmeal?”

“It will do,” you climbed up on a stool and bent your arms over the counter. “Bucky gone?”

“Yeah,” Steve set down the bag and turned to the cupboard. He pulled out a metal mug in the military style and filled it with coffee from the pot. He slid it over to you. “You like sugar? Cream? Because we have neither.”

“I’m fine,” you chuckled. “So… is this something you do a lot?”

“What? Make coffee?” He asked as he bent and searched the cupboards.

“No, whatever it is we’re doing here. Hiding?”

“I’ve been sent on protective missions before,” he stood and clunked a pot on the counter. “Can’t say it’s ever been this… intense. Usually political,” he opened the bag of oats and poured them into the pot, “Escort from point A to B. Nothing overly complicated.”

“So why exactly has S.H.I.E.L.D. taken the lead and not the FBI?” 

He looked at you and raised his brows. He turned to add water to the pot and placed it on the stove. He turned the dial and spun back to you.

“If I tell you, you can’t let on to Bucky that you know.” He warned as he neared the island. “I mean it. I really shouldn’t. He’s right, you know? The less you know, the better.”

“Tell me. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” You urged. “Please.”

He sighed and pushed back his blonde hair. His short stubble caught the light as he dropped his arms.

“We have reason, strong reason, to believe that this… guy has ties to an association known as HYDRA. An organization which has been working to undermine democratic peace for decades.” Steve lowered his voice as he leaned across the countertop. “The hotel room that was… an unexpected and uncharacteristic slip-up. Before, he was stealthy, smart, we were barely able to string it all together. He was all over the city. But… I’m starting to think that it’s all deliberate on his part. He wants to distract us with the overwhelming evidence so that we make a real mistake.”

“But why-- Why would an operative want anything to do with me?”

“Oh, well, we don’t think he’s with HYDRA anymore and that makes him even more dangerous. He’s taken everything they taught him, all the evil they instilled in him, and now he’s working for his own agenda.” 

Steve searched your face, “Why he chose you; who knows? Maybe you said ‘hi’ to him and he liked the way it sounded or maybe it’s entirely at random. The FBI handed this case over because they can’t figure him out and I gotta be honest, we’re not any closer than they were. The only upper hand we have is that Bucky saw him. That’s it. We don’t have a name or anything else. Just a face and there are an awful lot of those in New York.”

You trembled and ran your fingertips down your cheeks. You gulped as you sat up and your eyes threatened to well.

“Thanks for telling me.” You whispered.

“Right, but I need a favour in return.” He said.

“What?”

“Stop snooping around. We’re all stuck in here for a while. It doesn’t help anyone, especially not Bucky. He’s just trying to do his job and he’s already had to call in back-up. He’s feeling beat up right now.” Steve explained. “Besides, you really can’t give him a hard time after he got all bloodied up for you.”

“I… I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” You muttered, “I’ll cool it. Okay?”

He smiled and turned back to the stove. He grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the oats. He swore under his breath.

“I really hope you’re a good cook because we’re all gonna be miserable if I’m in charge.” He tutted at the steaming pot. “Or at least, half-starved.”

👁️

“So we ended up getting lost on the beach,” Steve hit his empty bowl with his elbow as he talked. “And the bozo says he’s gonna get seasick. On land!”

You laughed as Steve’s eyes twinkled but quickly stopped as you heard the beep from the front door. It opened and closed, followed by the tap of fingertips on the panel. You looked over your shoulder as Bucky entered. You hadn’t realised how long you and Steve had been talking. A couple hours even after finishing the chewy porridge.

“There’s more in the car,” Bucky crossed to the island and plunked two bags on it. 

“Oh, I’ll help,” you slid off the stool and Bucky caught your shoulder.

“You should stay inside,” Bucky said, “Steve.”

“Alright.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’ll clean up in here,” you offered.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve warned as he rounded the counter. “But since you promised to cook tonight I’ll be more than happy to let you do so then.”

“Deal,” you said and watched him pass into the hallway. 

Bucky’s hand slipped from your shoulder and he gripped the lip of the counter. “You two get along.”

“Figure I should try, considering,” you moved so that the stool was between you. 

“It’s gonna start snowing soon.” He said awkwardly. “Calling for a storm next week. Could be snowed in here.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing,” you said.

“Maybe,” he reached into one of the bags as he spoke, “I got you this.” He pulled out a bottle of red, “Figured I might as well.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to but… thanks,” you tried to smile. You heard Steve behind you and Bucky’s jaw squared as he looked over your shoulder. “At least let me help unpack.” You insisted as Steve placed the bags beside the others. “I mean, it’ll be something to keep me busy.”

“Twist my arm,” Steve said, “Alright, I’ll get the dishes and you started putting all this away. Bucky, do you mind helping?”

Bucky nodded and blinked slowly. “Any coffee left?” He asked.

“I’ll make a fresh pot,” Steve said as he gathered up the bowls, “But I wouldn’t recommend my oatmeal. There’s probably something better hidden in those bags.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky muttered, “It was a long ride.”

👁️

You decided that while you weren’t in control, it didn’t mean you were helpless. It only meant that you needed to let those who knew what they were doing take care of it. Bucky and Steve had years of experience in security and combat. You were just a secretary scared for her life. You had no idea what to do or what you were doing.

After the first couple days, it grew easier. You grew comfortable but not complacent. The few times of day you could cook kept you busy enough to distract you. Steve and Bucky were easier to be around as you grew used to them, even just used to having others in your living space. Mostly, you kept to yourself but managed some decent conversation when you ate or stumbled upon each other in the cabin.

It was quiet and you were bored. Again. There were a few books you'd found to read and your doodles had grown frustrating. You decided to take a shower and try to relax. Your isolation made you restless and your restlessness made you think of why you were hidden away in the middle of nowhere.

You locked the door behind you and hung your towel. To your surprise, Bucky had managed to pick out the exact soap you used. You couldn't recall if you'd been finicky enough to have written it on the list. You stretched and undressed. You still didn't sleep very well but it wasn't as if you did very much either.

You stepped under the showerhead as the pipes whined. In the evening, if your keepers were busy, you'd read by the woodstove. The smell was calming and the crackle filled the dead air. Maybe after you would sneak down and try to warm up in front of the fire.

The shower fogged up and you closed your eyes as you scrubbed your body. The smell was reassuring. It reminded you of when your life was normal. It made you think that maybe you could go back to before. That this might end and you might be free to live again.

You let out a breath and cranked the shower off. You pulled back the curtain as the steam cleared and you patted your skin dry before wrapping yourself in the towel. As you picked up your clothes, you froze. You stood and neared the door. Had you not locked it? 

It was half-open and let in a draft from the hallway. You poked your head out and peered up and down the hall. Nothing, no one. Well, you were careless, you could've left it unlocked, not pushed it enough for it to catch.

You tiptoed across the hall to your room and pulled the door shut. This time you made sure it was closed though there was no lock on it. You tossed your clothes on the bed and pulled out a new set. Loose sweatpants and a cotton shirt. You needed to do laundry already. Well, another task to keep you occupied.

You pulled on some socks and crept out into the hall. You descended the stairs and listened for any sign of disturbance. Usually the men worked in the dining room or in the small office on the other side of the stairs. 

You got to the bottom of the stairs and neared the front door. You looked out at the grey forest. It was supposed to snow that night, that's what Bucky declared at breakfast. You grasped the handle but it would not turn. You reached to the panel just beside you but it rejected your fingerprint with a loud beep. 

"Going somewhere?" Bucky asked and you spun to face him, startled.

"No, I just… haven't been outside and I just wanted to… smell the air. I guess that's, uh, weird." You rubbed your hands together.

"It's freezing. You can't go out like that."

You stared at him. "But can I… go out?"

His blue eyes clung to you and his long lashes flicked. He lifted his brow and stepped closer. He stopped and slid your boots over to you with his foot. 

"Stay close," he grabbed his coat, "And wear a hat."

He handed you a wool beanie from his coat pocket before he pulled the ends of his hair from beneath his collar. You took your coat, in slight disbelief, and smiled.

"You sure it's okay?"

"Well, you shouldn't be pent up in here for so long and once it snows, you won't wanna go out much at all."

He opened the door as you tucked your hands into your gloves. You stepped out and he followed you closely as the door clicked shut behind him. You tramped down the steps and bounced on your heels at the bottom. It smelled like pine and cold.

Bucky walked evenly across the clearing and you trailed behind him as he neared the trees. He stopped and waited for you to catch up. He waved you ahead of him. "Just follow the path."

He wasn't far behind as you did as he said, the path winding between trees and petering out before a frosty brook that would freeze over with the first snowfall. Your teeth chattered as the looming winter nipped through your layers. You were quiet as you bent to pick up a pinecone and admire its scales.

You felt Bucky watching you as you turned back and walked around the small clearing amidst the trees.

"Hey," you faced him and tossed the pinecone away, "I'm sorry I was so… contrary. I was afraid."

"It's fine," he shooed away your apology with his hand, "I've dealt with worse."

"Sure but… I owe you a thank you, too. You saved me. More than once. And I know I wouldn't be alive without you. So thanks. Really. And… I am trying. I trust you. I know you're going to get this guy."

He gave a small smile and kicked a stone as he came closer. "Well, let me just say, this is one of the only jobs I've been assigned that hasn't been a complete pain in the ass."

You scoffed and resisted your urge to back away from him. "Flattering, really."

"Twenty minutes," he said, "Then we gotta go back… before Steve notices and gets worried. Or worse, he'll think we left him out of some fun."

"Ah," you snorted, "Yeah, wouldn't want him to think that."

👁️

Another day and then another. Time fell as lackadaisical as the snow. At first, it had been a storm but it had slowed to a powdery lull. Neither Steve nor Bucky spoke of the killer and you didn’t dare to ask. What good would it do you to know he had killed another? Or that some other grisly piece of art had been found? Ignorance was bliss or at least solace.

You found yourself moving from room to room. First, your bedroom, then the kitchen for a cup of tea, the living room to feed the stove and watch it burn, and then back upstairs. You ran into Steve on your way up. He seemed distracted if not a bit perturbed. You noticed that in the last day he and Bucky had been quiet. More so than usual.

You continued up to your room and opened your current read; a classic you refused to read in high school and opted for the Sparknotes instead. You laid on your bed, one leg bent under the other as you swayed back and forth. The words didn’t stick in your mind and you found yourself rereading the same page until you clapped the book shut and snarled.

You sat up and tapped your foot on the floor. You heard voices, muffled by your door. You eked it open and slowly approached the top of the stairs. You listened as the argument came clearer.

“Goddamn it, Bucky, after everything I’ve done for you. What the fuck are we here for? Well, what am I here for?” Steve growled.

“Stop yelling, alright.” Bucky snipped. “Have a little fucking patience. You know this hasn’t been easy.” You heard something slam but couldn’t guess at what. “Don’t fucking blow it. Shut up and have a little faith in me.”

There was grumbling but nothing more as a door closed and blocked out the voices entirely. You felt that heat along the back of your neck. The sudden burst of instinctual fear that nestled along your shoulders. The goosebumps that told you that not all was as it seemed. The creeping, inescapable sensation which had lingered for weeks now.

You pushed yourself up to your feet and headed back to your room. It was a stressful mission, you couldn’t blame the two for getting frustrated. That must have been what it was. They were anxious to get this guy and be onto their next mission. You doubted it was their ideal job to be locked away in the snow.

You stopped as your hand fell to your door handle and you peered down the hall into Bucky’s room. The door was mostly open, only a slight angle blocking out part of the room. Slowly, you dragged your hand away from the knob and felt along the wall as you continued down the hall.

His bed was unmade, the pillows strewn about, and a familiar patch of fabric stuck out from beneath one of them. You glanced behind you and took a breath. You took a step inside and waited as if testing it. Would he know? He seemed to know everything.

You placed one foot in front of the other as softly as you could. You leaned a knee against the mattress and reached beneath the pillow. You lifted up your panties and blanched at the little daisies speckles along the cotton. You’d gone all week without a pair, the mystery of their disappearance forgotten as your own carelessness. You mouthed ‘what the fuck’ as you dropped them back to the bed.

You turned around and went to the tall dresser near the closet. You inched the top drawer open; the rest of your panties bunched up with his briefs. The pink pair with the hearts you didn’t dare to touch as dried white strings stained the lacy edge. You slid the drawer shut and gasped as you were suffocated by your shock.

You spun around and peeked out the open door. You heard nothing but the winter gales outside. You rounded the bed and went to the table in the corner; a monitor, a mouse, a keyboard, stacks of folders and papers. 

Your fingers shook as you took your wallet from the mess and opened it up. Your cards, your IDs, and even the cash remained within. You put it back and took the envelope that was hidden beneath it. You opened it and flipped through its contents; your college ID from years ago, the one you got replaced after presumably dropping it in the library, your graduation photo, pictures of your family and you… all things you’d thought you lost.

You replaced the envelope and lifted the top of a file. The same drawing as before and several more, each one bloodier, more gruesome than the last until the final one. A metal arm around your neck…

Your hand hit the mouse as you retracted it in disgust and the monitor lit up. The sudden glare stung your eyes. A dozen different frames across the screen; each one a room in the house, including yours and even one in the shower. Bucky and Steve were in the office, deep in conversation.

You let out a shuddered breath as tears pricked.

You moved the mouse slowly and clicked on the file explorer. Folders sorted by date and then another simply labelled with your street name. You hesitated before you selected it. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of video files sorted by date. You bent closer as you clicked on the last day.

You hit double speed as your empty apartment greeted you. Then you came home, poured your wine, then Bucky arrived, you ordered food… You slowed down the footage as you slumped against the arm of the couch. The wine and the terror of that video call had left you senseless.

Bucky stood and pulled you down to lay across the couch. He backed up and watched you for a while then neared you again. You watched in horror as he bent over you and rolled your pants down. He climbed between your legs and buried his head between them. He shoved his metal hand beneath his mouth and your entire body jolted as he fingered.

You gasped as he finished and pulled your pants back up. Then he stood near you and used your hand to pleasure himself. You exited out of the window before your stomach turned entirely. You stood as you looked to the live feed. The office was empty.

You were suddenly pulled back as a rope wrapped around your neck. You kicked out as you were strangled, a figure flush against your back. You flailed and grabbed at the robe as you were shoved towards the bed. The body fell down onto you and the rope tightened.

“Baby girl,” Bucky’s voice slithered in your ear, “It didn’t have to be like this.”