#HOTTIE ALERT GODDAMN

[illiana-mystery]

Um, hello...mister. 😵‍💫😮‍💨

#goddamn son #hello sexy #i'm totally staring at his paunch #👀👀👀👀 #ooh i love his paunch #bruh #sir 🥵🥵🥵 #sexy ass dilf #hottie alert #my sweet alfredo #my heart #❤️❤️❤️❤️ #alfred molina

[greatideas-badwriter]

Worth The Risk Chapter 14

Mature Content Warning!

BTW sh*t's about to hit the fan!

'Is there a word stronger than humiliated?' Sakura thought while sitting in the back row of a lecture, 'Mortified. Embarrassed. Ashamed.' She couldn't focus on the professor teaching at the front of the room.

'Terrified. I'm scared, and I'm exhausted. I'm at my goddamn wit's end.'

It was Tuesday, four days after the big incident after Sai's party. Like a knight in shiny black armor, Sasuke found and cared for her in such a way that she almost believed the alcohol had made her hallucinate.

'He's been a sweetheart since then, too," the woman frowned at her blank notebook, twirling her pencil anxiously between two fingers, 'I know it's because he thinks I'm crazy. This is the second time I've sworn someone was following me. They couldn't find anyone both times.'

But Sakura knew better. Maybe the Akatsuki couldn't find the person following her home, but the blonde man from the party had definitely followed her out into the streets.

The phone in her purse vibrated with a notification, and she bent down to pull it out, recalling how her old one shattered against the concrete and broke. Luckily, the store was able to transfer the number to her new device.

'Sasuke bought this for me, too,' she mused, the guilt eating her heart and leaving a raw ache. She doesn't remember getting home that night, but when she woke up, she'd been put into some of his pajamas, and he'd been cuddling her to keep her warm, even in his sleep. The scuffs on her palms and knees were also cleaned and bandaged.

On Saturday, the day after the party, he purchased the new phone as a Christmas gift for her as thanks for the one she'd gotten him.

Green eyes dully read a text from Ino, 'Have you seen the new guy on campus yet? Major hottie alert!'

Sakura didn't bother responding.

She was as low as low could be. Not only was she positive someone was after her, but no one believed it. If she met up with Ino, she'd definitely spill the beans about what happened, and that'd be just another person thinking she's insane.

'Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I imagined it all, and it's just PTSD from everything that happened.' The thought didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it made things worse because there wasn't a doubt that it'd happen again, and she'd be just as distressed.

Shortly after, right before the end of the lecture, she received another message. The woman opened it on auto-pilot, under the impression it was from someone at the party she may have drunkenly given her number out to, all of which being girls she wanted to befriend. Two had reached out already.

'Drunk me is better at socializing than sober me. It's almost funny.'

The woman sat straighter in her chair when photo after photo began popping up in the chat box of the text sender. They were from her ex-boyfriend's number. Chest heaving with panic, she looked around to ensure no one was close enough to see over her shoulder before peeking at it again.

It was Akatsuki members, incriminating snapshots of them, to be exact. Most of them were Sasuke, but there was at least one for each of the gang's core members.

Once the messages stopped, she texted back because it wasn't only her being affected, 'Why are you doing this? Just leave me alone!'

Rather than receiving a text back, more pictures began coming in. This time, they were of her. Photos of Sakura at school, with Sasuke, with Ino or Karin, and even a few of her at the Akatsuki house, which appeared to have been taken from a distance through a window.

Feeling like she was about to be sick, Sakura snatched up her belongings and rushed out of the lecture hall, only to empty her stomach in the nearest ladies' room. 'Oh, God. He's been watching me for weeks!' Rinsing her mouth out in the sink, she angled her body toward the entrance just in case while checking to see if the person had responded. They hadn't.

So, she called Sasuke. 'I have to tell him about this immediately. He'll have to believe me, now!'

The Uchiha didn't answer, which shouldn't have surprised her because he was in class. Not wanting to alarm him too much since it might be a little while before they see one another, she texted him, 'I need to talk to you as soon as your class ends. It's important.'

It was both of their last class of the day, so all she had to do was manage her panic and anxiety for another twenty minutes, and then she'd have no choice but to come clean to the man about her past because it'd finally caught up to her.

A message from him quickly came, 'What's up?'

It'd be foolish to send him anything regarding the situation because there's no telling who he was around or how he'd react to receiving something so incriminating out of nowhere, so the woman replied, 'In person.'

After rinsing her mouth again, Sakura left the restroom and walked toward the staircase to the third floor, where the library was located. Upon reaching the first step, though, her phone began to ring. Looking down at it, she expected it to be Sasuke calling to demand an explanation. Impatience is one of his most significant faults. It wasn't him, though. No, it was her ex.

Trembling, the woman answered but said nothing. The voice on the other end of the line sent shivers down her spine, "I told you I'd find you, didn't I?"

Sakura stumbled before shakily sitting on the steps with wide, watery eyes, "H-How?"

"Saku, this isn't some movie. If I tell you, you'll run again and hide better."

She gritted her teeth, brow furrowing. No words would come out. She couldn't speak.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to be starting school at your college tomorrow, and you'll act like nothing's wrong. You'll go back to being my sweet, devoted girlfriend, or I'll send all those photos to the police."

"No, I'm not-" "You are. We'll finish the school year in Oto and return to Konoha in the summer to get married."

'Married?! I can't marry him! I'll be dead by twenty-five!'

He must've taken her silence for what it was, defiance, because he threatened, "I know the people you're living with are more dangerous than me. Imagine how they'll react when I send them records of this call and our messages. When they find out you're the reason they're all going to prison, you'll be hunted and murdered, Sakura."

'...He's right, damn it. It doesn't matter if I give in because I care about them or because I'm scared they'll kill me. One way or another, I have to surrender.' Tears slid heavily down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, voice small and weak, "I-I understand."

The man sounded like a completely different person, then. His voice was bright and cheerful, "That's my girl! I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She made a barely audible sound of confirmation, and they both hung up.

When Sasuke's class ended, he wordlessly left. After receiving those texts from Sakura, he couldn't focus on the lesson anymore. 'What could it be this time? Is she gonna tell me she's being fucking followed again?' The man wasn't angry at her, but he was getting irritated at the situation because he didn't know what to do to fix things.

He saw her pastel pink hair in the hallway and weaved through the crowd in time to exit the building at her side, "So, what's up?"

Sakura's entire body jolted, her eyes wide and face pale as she turned to him, "You scared me!"

Sasuke chuckled, grabbing her hand with his free one so she'd walk more closely, "What'd you need to tell me?"

Her thin fingers gently squeezed his hand more tightly, an odd, unfamiliar expression coming across her features before she quickly blocked it, shaking her head, "Oh, right. That. It's nothing," she gave him a big, fake grin, "Sorry. I thought I saw someone, but I'm probably imagining things again."

'She's the worst liar I've ever met.'

Once in the car and on the road toward home, he warned, "Babe. Don't fucking lie to me. What really happened?" 'Something's off. She won't even look at me.'

Sakura shook her head yet again, lowering her gaze to her lap, "I'm serious, Sasuke. I-I've just been on edge lately. That's probably why I'm like this. I'll try to relax, okay?"

The Uchiha man wasn't fooled. Not at all. That said, the increasingly familiar warmth in his chest arose when she didn't correct him for using a pet name.

'Maybe I'll keep doing it. It makes her blush.'

There was only one way he knew for sure would get her to be honest because it worked last time. So, he unpacked his backpack when they got to the house and entered their rooms. When he turned, intending to go to her room, he was surprised to see her standing in his doorway with a red face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the woman cut him off, "Do you want to, um, have a drink?" When he was too stunned to answer, she averted her gaze awkwardly to the floor, "I-I know it's the middle of the week, but I just thought-" "Alright. Go get it and come back here."

Sakura's mouth shut, her eyes jumping up to meet his again before she nodded and disappeared downstairs.

'If I'm correct, she's trying to find a way to tell me something.'

'What the fuck did I just do? Why did I say that?'

Sakura took the stairs as slowly as possible, an entire bottle of tequila in her possession. She'd grabbed the alcohol with the highest percentage, so it'd get her drunk faster.

Truthfully, the woman knew exactly why she asked the Uchiha man to drink with her.

Tomorrow at school, her personal hell will be reawakened. After that, whatever hot and cold, flirty or not-flirty thing they have is going to be totally and completely over. They'll both be in danger if she doesn't cut him out. With that thought in mind, Sakura had become desperate. She wanted to break things off with him; that's why she wanted to get tipsy. It was too scary to do sober.

Sasuke looked as apprehensive as she expected when she returned to his room and shut the door. He didn't say anything, but they both knew her actions were out of character. The man was simply waiting things out to find out what was happening.

So, the pair passed the clear alcohol back and forth, a random movie playing on the television mounted on the wall. When the pinkette finally considered herself suitably intoxicated, the sun had set, and the film was in its final half.

She glanced over to admire Sasuke's profile. They were sitting side by side under the covers as they had the day she was sick that they hung out.

'God, he's so handsome when focused on something.'

The way his jaw unconsciously flexed and his eyes would narrow or widen was enamoring. Personally, Sakura felt she could stare at him for hours and not get bored, not that she'd ever tell him that. 'His ego's already massive. If it gets any bigger, it'll swallow him whole.'

"If you keep staring, I don't know what I'll do," Sasuke suddenly said, not changing his expression or looking her way.

Blush heated Sakura's face, thought it'd already been warm from the booze, "Sorry…."

He smirked, finally turning to meet her gaze, "I should be the one apologizing." In a blink, the woman's hair was splayed messily over the pillows, and his body was between her legs as he kissed her. After a moment, he pulled back enough to add, "But I won't."

'What…? Why am I letting this happen? I'm supposed to be breaking things off with him! … But this feels so….'

Skilled hands removed her clothes, one article at a time, and she helped the man with his, too. It was hot under the covers with the stunning man. Both were covered with a thin sheen of sweat as they deeply kissed, hands exploring one another's bodies with an eagerness as though there was a time limit.

Sakura's breath hitched when the hand holding her hip slid between her legs, long fingers searching and quickly finding that sweet spot. Her eyes crept open, brow furrowing in response to his expert teasing.

Sasuke pulled his lips from hers, dark eyes burning with unguarded desire, "If you're gonna stop me, do it now because I won't later."

'What an asshole thing to say. He knows that I understand how his mind works by now, I guess, so there's no need to pretend to be a nice guy.'

The man lifted a sleek brow, eyes looking down between them as he stopped massaging her and grabbed the base of his cock, lining himself up. She didn't stop him.

'I know it's wrong to give him hope like this, but, for once in my life, I want to be selfish. I want to have a positive sexual experience, and I want it to be with him.'

She bent her legs further, spreading them apart enough that Sasuke understood the situation. He was bigger than her ex. That was something she figured out last week when they hooked up. It still came as a surprise when a slight pain, similar to that of losing one's virginity but not quite as intense, met her core as he steadily thrusted in. Her brow furrowed, and he noticed, but neither said anything.

Once fully inside, he paused before straightening his spine enough that his weight shifted to his knees and freed his hands. Gripping her thighs, Sasuke began moving slowly to gauge her reaction and then adjusting in speed, angle, and strength as he figured out her likes and dislikes.

Sakura couldn't meet his eye because she was so embarrassed at being seen and touched like this. Her face burnt with a wildfire blush, and she kept her head turned, eyes half-lidded as they glazed over.

This was the first time in her life she genuinely enjoyed the sex.

It felt good.

It felt excellent.

So much, in fact, that she found herself unable to bite back soft moans and gasps. All she could do was try to keep them as quiet as possible. If she made the wrong move or sound, the man atop her would likely call her out on it, and she might not survive that level of humiliation.

They'd only been at it for a minute before Sasuke ran a hand up her middle to grab her jaw and force her to meet his gaze. His voice was low and gentle, though his grip was not, "Were you a virgin? Don't lie."

Sakura shook her head, eyes dancing from his face to his body, to where his sex was meeting hers, and back up. She didn't have to ask because he said, "Babe, you're so fuckin' tight."

The Uchiha man's hold on her jaw became less harsh as he bent further to give her a chaste kiss, pulling back to whisper, "And you look uncomfortable. If you aren't feeling good, say something."

"N-No, it feels amazing!" She drunkenly reassured him, hands leaving the sheets to touch his chest.

His dark eyes narrowed, obviously suspecting her of lying again. Sakura squeezed her eyes closed, admitting, "It's just…I've never really enjoyed this type of thing, so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act. I thought if I just kept still, you at least wouldn't laugh at me."

'Did I hear that correctly? She's never…?' "You said you slept with one other person," Sasuke said, the question insinuated.

The tight, hot sensation around his dick was unbelievable, but he had to focus on Sakura's words because having her be anything but a hot, bothered mess beneath him was unacceptable. He wanted to see her body tremble and shake with pleasure, to hear the irresistible, sensual sounds she could make. He refused to leave this tryst without it.

"I have. It's just…Well, um, I didn't…." She trailed off, obviously struggling to maintain eye contact because she was so embarrassed.

"He didn't get you off," he bluntly said. Her bewildered expression, followed by a mortified groan, was all the answer he needed.

Something came over Sasuke, then. It was like his obsession with her manifested into dominance because his mouth moved with words before he could stop it, "I'll make you cum so hard, you'll never be able to forget me."

Sakura's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth opening slightly because she obviously had no idea how to react to such a bold statement. The man continued, though, his movements more decisive, "And do whatever the fuck you feel like doing. I don't give a damn."

The woman tightened around his sex, making his jaw flex and a jolt of excited pleasure roll up his abdomen.

"But what if I-" "Babe, you could bite me til I bleed, and I'd think it's sexy. Stop thinking and let me fuck you."

Finally, she relented with a slight nod, "Okay…."

Sasuke needed no other confirmation. He smirked, releasing her jaw and rising to his knees with his back straight up, moving inside her with every ounce of his lust fueling him. It was gradual, but the hold on both of their controls began to slip.

Over the next few minutes, the pink-haired woman went from gritting her teeth and feeling self-conscious about every little thing to grasping the sheets with her back arched, toes curled, and mouth open as she panted and moaned. It was all music to Sasuke's ears and gorgeous satisfaction to his eyes.

'Fuck, what is this? It's never felt like this. I don't want to cum. I want to watch her for hours.'

The woman beneath him was enticing. The glisten of sweat on her pale, scarred skin was impossible to ignore. He had to touch every inch. Large hands felt her humble curves, her perky breasts, her legs. And inside her was just as incredible. It was electric, the sensation the man felt with each movement. It almost seemed inhuman.

"S-Sasuke, that-!" The man focused on Sakura's face. A delicious, submissive, and desperate emotion flooded her pretty features.

He repeated what he'd done to pull such a face from her, a quiet moan rumbling through his chest when the muscles surrounding his cock flexed in response, the woman moaning helplessly. Dark eyes studied the picture before him in hopes of memorizing it.

'That's what I wanted to see. She's barely holding on.'

Sasuke eagerly gave in to his selfish desire to steal Sakura's sanity.

He put his weight on one hand on the bed near her head, the other flat against her back to hold her up as his knees moved under her, lifting the bottom half of her body off the bed as he pounded into her recklessly.

The tight muscles of her abdomen flexed attractively as her head fell back. The woman's eyes filled with tears as she fumbled to grab onto him, one hand around his wrist near her head and the other grasping his shoulder so tightly that her nails dug into the skin. Then she fell over the edge. Sasuke felt it, a breathy, quiet sound of relief slipping past his lips as Sakura's insides quaked around him, a beautiful moan meeting his ears.

Sasuke's hand on her back held her chest to his once her orgasm ended, and he effortlessly switched their position so she straddled his hips. He continued to move in and out, dark eyes wild and locked onto hers in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Drunkenly, Sakura breathed out, her spine straightening as she allowed her body to react naturally to his movements, "Is it like that every time?"

Usually, he'd chuckle at such a question, but he didn't. He moved his hands to her hips and guided her movements so she could learn what he liked, "We're not done."

The woman adapted eagerly because it felt nice. She was lost in the excited, sweaty, sensual mood. Any other time, she'd be too timid to press her hands to such a sexy man's chest and stare into his eyes like this.

If Sasuke said something like that to her in a regular situation, it'd be terrifying, but it only made the heat between her legs rise in temperature. It also strangely made her want to try harder to please him as if to match his serious energy.

With that thought in mind, Sakura released the last of her inhibitions and came forward, her hands on his shoulders. Moving her knees further apart so they weren't touching his sides anymore, she adjusted how her hips moved. Long fingers gripped her hips and ass, a barely-audible sound leaving Sasuke's mouth as his brow furrowed.

Sweating and breathless, the woman didn't give in. No, she swiftly reached up to pull her long hair over one shoulder so it wouldn't fall into her face before doubling down and settling in to continue the act as long as needed for the man beneath her to succumb to her as she had for him.

'I've never actually wanted to do this. It's always been torture to be on top, so why does it feel so good?'

Of course, it was because of her overwhelming attraction to Sasuke, but also because she didn't have to worry that her partner would hurt her for making even the most minor mistake. Sakura felt free, though it was a little odd that it happened while riding the sexy Uchiha man like a bull.

"Damn…!" A deep, forced voice met her ears, and she focused on Sasuke's face, the desire in her lower regions flaring at his tortured expression. He was at his limit. She could feel his sex flex and twitch within her despite how quickly they were moving.

Something came over her that she'd never be able to explain. Sakura slid one hand up his jaw, so her thumb was near his temple and her fingers were on his neck, "Do it inside." The husky, confident voice that left her mouth was unexpected to both parties.

Suddenly, the woman was pulled down to Sasuke's chest, strong arms wrapping around her body to hold her tightly there as his hips thrusted up roughly, making her gasp until he froze, entirely inside her and pressing as hard as possible. The man's cock pulsated as a heated sensation met Sakura's lower abdomen.

After a moment, the air was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, and the duo remained still in that position. Still drunk, Sakura asked, her lips brushing the sweaty skin of his shoulder, "Should I get off of you?"

She found herself face down with handfuls of pillow as Sasuke kissed her back, shoulders, and neck. He was becoming hard again, the organ rubbing against her backside as the Uchiha held one of her hips. The woman couldn't speak. She thought they were done and were going to go to sleep, but she was oh so wrong.

Soon, the Uchiha man slid into her again, pressing her legs together with his knees before grinding deep into her with a hand atop each of hers on the bed. His hot breath tickled her damp skin as he said, "Does it feel good?"

Sakura hummed warmly, the feeling of his sweaty body hitting hers as addicting as nicotine.

"Tell me out loud," Sasuke's fingers curled around hers, voice more demanding.

The order sent an odd sensation of thrill between her legs, "I like it!"

Lips pressed into the back of her shoulder again, the man's voice prideful, "Just wait until I'm done. You'll be ruined. No one else will be able to make you feel like this."

Sakura couldn't respond because she was too busy holding onto her sanity for dear life as he picked up his efforts, though she did think, 'I'm pretty sure that's already the case.'

#sakura #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #naruto #naruto shippuden #narutofanfiction #naruto fanfiction #narutofanfic #sakura haruno #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #uchiha sasuke #sasuke #sasusaku #sasuke uchiha

[rintarous]

fwb!suna

hottie alert wee woo wee woo fbi arrest him also if you’ve read the timeskip in the manga and it briefly shows suna can i just fucking tell u like holy shit hes fucking h+t + p.s implied sex <3

you two probably met at a random party thrown by terushima 

and he was kinda popular with the girls so he had girls beside him the entire time you first noticed suna

but little did you know he had eyes on you the moment you walked in

he’s definitely going to thank terushima for throwing this sick party my dude

as the night gets deeper the more you got yourself wasted

like duh? its a college party 

same goes to suna but lucky for him, his alcohol tolerance is spot on

so a few shots of vodka and any more of that shit wouldn’t hurt him

and now you’re kinda wasted and shit just walking around the place, greeting people here and there

when your eyes landed on suna,, again for the 2nd time tonight

homeboy was kinda looking for you too the whole night

cs u were hot shit just like he was

and so you approached him

he’s kinda surprised that you were the first one who made a move on him

so a little chit chat here and there later he finally asks you the question

“wanna get out of here for a bit?” he whispers in your ear a bit seductively

and thats how you found yourself entangled with him under the sheets if ya know what im saying ;))) 

but the entire time you guys were doing the deed, you two cracked jokes here and there

and this weird ass friendship was born

so you two both agreed to be friends with benefits whenever theres a party or u just need a good release 

you didnt mind it cs you know for a fact after this party is over, you’ll never see him again cs you never saw him on campus anyway

so after how many rounds later you two are finished and you two go back downstairs to the party

like nothing happened

except for the fact your lips are swollen and theres a bunch of hickies on suna’s neck 

ngl he really looks,,, hot 

so tbh u were kinda lowkey bummed out that you might never see him again

what you didn’t know was he slipped his number on a piece of paper when he slid his hands on the back of your jeans

but u dont text him

CS UR SCARED BAHAHAHAHA

so fast forward a week later after that party

you were kinda lonely and u wanted to see him again cs duh friendship

you had this project for this one class you have and you and kita ended up being partners

but your project was about some theory about computers and such and you’re just like what the fuck??

luckily for kita, he knows someone who’s taking a computer related course or something related to your said project and guess who it is ladies

thats right it was suna fucking rintarou

“i know someone who can help us” kita says, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his contacts

“cool. what course does he take” you ask as you took a peek 

“electrical engineering” - kita

boi u were shookt when suna comes rolling in the cafeteria where he was going to meet his friend 

“hey kita-san” suna greets and when he turns to you he just had this biggest smile on his face

“holy shit it’s you” suna beams, glad he FINALLY got to see you again

and like right off the bat you were red again like how the fuck did you not notice him before

he was hot AND an intellectual

anyway

the three of you spent majority of your time working on your project at your apartment

cs it was closer to school and kita still has to go home to take care of his granny and shit so he leaves p early but he gets shit done so its okay

so you alr know what happens next

when u’re feeling stressed over this goddamn project of yours,,,

suna graciously gives you a quick fuck to let out your frustrations

and thats like every other day

man you were starting to be head over heels over that bitch at this point

he just knows where to hit it you know??

kinda hard not to fall for someone that attentive 👀

so gradually, those quick sessions of yours turned more affectionate?? if you say so yourself

like it isn’t as rough like it used to be anymore?? like he’s scared of hurting u or some shit

and u couldve sworn he gave you heart eyes when you two made eye contact during sex

which never fucken happens??

oh boi this dude got you wrapped around his finger

but what you didnt know is that its the exact same thing to him, you got HIM wrapped around your finger

so for the first time ever you ask him to stay over

“can you stay?” you mumbled, hiding your face away from him after your session

suna GIGGLES

“thought you’d never ask”

lowkey tho y’all spooned the entire night after cleaning each other up

and after that you two started avoiding each other

you were crushed dude

but you didn’t want to catch feelings cs thats against the unspoken rule you had with him when you two agreed to become friends with benefits

kita notices this and asks you what’s wrong

and you basically asked him his opinion abt your situation rn

and hes just like: “well if you like him that much, why won’t you just admit it to him? cause it seems like he feels the same way” 

and u were like contemplating about it

so on the final day of working on your project,,, you decide to confront suna about your feelings for him

after kita leaves ofc

when he does leave, it turned awkward inside your apartment

like dead silence

as he was packing his shit back to his bag and you were like standing in front of your front door staring at him, hands shaking

“uhh suna?” you squeaked as he basically towered over you, “can i tell you something?” 

suna flashes you his signature smile, “sure! what’s up?” 

your mouth went dry and suddenly you don’t know basic words

you looked like a fish out of water just opening and closing your mouth a bunch of times

you just couldn’t find the right words nor express yourself so you did something you knew you did best,, you kissed him

you cupped his cheeks and kissed him like there was no tomorrow

and now suna was obviously caught off guard 

he dropped his bag and his hands immediately went flying to your hips

he kinda pushed you against the door as you slid your tongue into his mouth, tugging his hair slightly 

you pulled away first, putting your forehead against his, staring at his eyes

“i really like you” you mumbled, cheeks turning pink 

suna has never felt this ecstatic

“fucking finally” he huffs out, kissing your nose. “i thought i was the only one getting attached” he smiles

and after this you two continued your previous actions and obviously ended up getting hot and steamy in bed ;)

the end <3     

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu x reader #suna imagines #suna scenarios #suna headcannons #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro imagines #suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintaro headcannons #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou imagines #suna rintarou scenarios #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #quenching my suna thirst

[hellyeahomeland]

“Prisoners of War”: an HYH recap

The finale of our last season opens just as the finale of our first season did: with Nicholas Brody’s suicide tape. Brody stands before us just as we remember him: uniform pressed, grainy black and white, defending his decisions to the masses. Carrie drives late at night, her face steely, as those familiar words echo in her ears: “People will say I was broken, I was brainwashed. People will say that I was turned into a terrorist, taught to hate my country. I love my country.”

She arrives home, again, to an empty house.

Back in New York, Linus is paying Saul a surprise visit.

Saul: Hey, man! Am I fired yet? Linus: Miraculously, no! But Jalal Haqqani is definitely not dead, did you have any idea? Saul: Yeah, it was my entire idea. I didn’t tell you so you’d have plausible deniability. Linus: WHERE IS THE ALLIGATOR? Look, Hayes is pissed and is saying he’s going to take out Pakistan’s nuclear facilities if they don’t stand down. Saul: Jesus. Ok, get in the car, I’ll explain why I’ve been acting so fishy on the way back.

The next morning, Carrie’s enjoying a nice cup of coffee while watching her former enemy Tasneem deliver an address at the UN. Tasneem explains that the US are basically a bunch of annoying bullies and they have no choice but to defend themselves with everything they have. After, Anna goes back to the Russian Federation’s office and into Director Mirov’s office, where she notices the red flight recorder. She recaps Tasneem’s speech and Mirov is delighted because they’re all about to get promotions. Anna is steely-faced and says he deserves it.

Carrie arrives at Charlotte Benson’s giant mansion. Two Russian hunks, one of whom looks EXACTLY LIKE Jonas but is not, escort her to Charlotte’s murder demo. Actually, Carrie’s not going to murder him. She’s just gonna mix a few chemicals and create a gel that she rubs on his skin to immobilize him, then the Russians hunks will murder him. According to Yevgeny, they’re the best, and Yevgeny wants nothing but the best for his girl. Carrie looks like she may actually vomit, even though I already completed that bingo square.

In the Oval Office, Saul arrives for his meeting with Hayes but instead it’s just Evil Spawn Zabel, who looks so totally delighted to be going one-on-one with Saul again. Saul shares that the flight recorder indicates the helicopter wasn’t shot down after all, it was just mechanical failure. Zabel seems intrigued initially, the wheels in his head probably spinning to figure out how he can play this to his advantage. But Saul doesn’t have the recording and in fact has no proof. Zabel says he’s full of shit. They basically talk past each other, neither side budging from the facts (or, as Zabel would say, “facts”). He pronounces Saddam in Saddam Hussein like it rhymes with “Goddamn” and then says the Iraq War was a good idea “for the record.” Hugh Dancy revels in the slime.

Saul’s relaying this shitshow to Linus when he arrives home to find St. Maggie. Mr. Bill “I’ve Had It” Mathison has a friend who swore he saw Carrie at Langley the other day, which makes no sense to me or to Maggie but Saul’s like “could have happened!” Wasn’t Carrie on trial for being involved in the president’s murder? Anyhoozles, Maggie is once again exasperated with Carrie, her sister whom she just can’t understand. Carrie hasn’t even stopped by to see Franny. Saul agrees it’s strange.

Ironically, while Maggie is paying a house visit to Saul, Carrie is paying a house visit to Maggie. Well, more specifically to Franny’s bedroom, where’s she’s hidden a go-bag filled with cash and a shitload of meds and a half dozen passports. On her way out, she pauses on a photo of Franny, her hair red as ever, in a bright yellow rain coat. She takes it with her.

Later that night, Carrie arrives back at Saul’s, looking again like she could hurl at any minute. She spots the Russian hunks in a nearby car lighting up a cigarette. She steps inside to find Saul, sitting in his library, listening to the Fleabag soundtrack. It’s very ominous. Dad is NOT happy!

He confronts her immediately. Why hasn’t she seen Franny? Actually, why the fuck is she even back here? Seems like she’s planning a quick escape. But why come back in the first place?

She deflects initially, but it’s Saul. She knows that he knows. He knows that she knows that he knows. There is a lot of knowing going on.

Carrie: You know the answers to all your questions. Saul: I still want to hear you say it. With my own ears. Carrie: I made a deal with Yevgeny. The flight recorder for your asset in Moscow. Saul: Asset? What asset? Carrie: Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I know she exists. I know how you communicate. Saul: Good God, Carrie, tell me you haven’t. If you have, you’ve permanently crippled our position in Russia. She’s the last live source we have there. The rest were sent to the wall by Allison Carr, a thing that was 0% my fault. Carrie: We can rebuild the intelligence network. Saul: It’ll take a decades. Meanwhile they slowly strangle us. Carrie: Let’s worry about all that tomorrow. We’re on the brink of nuclear war today in case you forgot. Saul: Relax, I’m talking to some journalists tomorrow. Carrie: Lol, like that will make a flying fuck worth of a difference. Saul: Well, sometimes that’s the price of doing business. Carrie: Who even are you? Saul: What do you want from me? Carrie: GIVE ME HER NAME. Saul: I never will. God, get the fuck out of my house. You’re turning yourself in ASAP.

Carrie storms upstairs and starts to mix the not-murder potion. For some reason she forgets to close the door because Saul walks in a few moments later. She panics and smears the gel across his neck. He looks confused for a second and then collapses. Carrie looks in shock at her mentor sprawled out on the floor. She signals the Russian hunks on the street outside. Sara begins to have an actual panic attack thinking Carrie might murder Saul.

Saul can hear her, of course, but he can’t move. He can barely speak. She tells him to give her the name, now, or some Russian dudes are gonna murder him. She says it’s out of her hands when it’s entirely in her hands. She explains to him the legacy plan. The poor guy looks literally dumbstruck. She asks him to see reason. No one person can be worth the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people. It’s an interesting replay of his conversation with Zabel earlier.

The GRU team walks in then — she gives him one final chance, but he still won’t say her name. They take him into his bedroom, which is GIANT, and begin prepping for the murder.

Carrie tries again. She tries really hard, with everything she has.

“Everything you have ever asked of me, I have done.” In a single line, their whole relationship, eight seasons’ worth. He stares back up at her, simultaneously expressionless and filled with hurt and pain. Is there no fucking line?

Then: “Come here,” he mumbles, barely audible. She leans in close to him, expectant. “Go fuck yourself.” A fat tear rolls down her face and she shakes her head at the GRU team. She says something about a fallback plan and then turns toward Saul, every inch of herself sorry and lost and guilty. “I had to try,” she says quietly.

The fallback plan is to go see Saul’s sister Dorit (“Saul, what do you have?”) in the West Bank. And, once there, to tell Dorit that Saul’s died of a stroke and Dorit needs to go back to DC at once for funeral arrangements. Carrie plays somber yet dutiful surrogate daughter well. She’s disgusted with herself but, again, can’t hold back. Wherever the line is, if it existed, she’s lost it now.

While she’s helping Dorit pack, she makes her move and pokes around the legacy plan. Dorit, like Mira before her, sees her brother in this woman all too clearly. “Always an ulterior motive,” she says. But Dorit is kind-hearted and she does have an envelope for Carrie. There’s a thumb drive inside and Carrie looks so relieved she could cry. She sends Dorit on her way (but not before swiping her phone... I LOVE YOU CARRIE).

Back in Washington, Saul has full motor control again but he’s really late for his meeting with those journalists, and Linus, ever the mensch and detective, realizes something’s fishy pretty immediately. Nevertheless, Carrie’s just given word to Yevgeny that she has the name, so they peace out anyway.

Yevgeny arrives at Dorit’s house on cue and dressed for warm weather. Carrie’s not getting a needle to the neck this time. She’s on full alert, gun pointed straight at him before he even walks through the door. She makes a big show of patting every inch of his body down for a weapon that he actually doesn’t have, and then tosses him a piece of paper with Anna’s name. Then she shows him what’s on the flash drive.

Here’s what’s on the flash drive: a much darker-haired Saul, with different glasses, explaining who Anna is. Aside from Carrie, she is the most important professional relationship in his life. She’s an asset but she runs herself (sounds familiar!). She is extraordinary. And he never told her because he was protecting her. Carrie turns away — his soft, sure words are like daggers. Everything he’s talking about on that tape is destroyed. Carrie took a match to it all.

Anna’s now burned and Mirov knows. Saul rings up Resident Hottie Scott Ryan at the UN for an assist. Saul pleads with him to get Anna out of there ASAP. At the same time, Mirov’s men run in quick pursuit. Scott and Anna make their way to a dead-end room in the basement and barricade the door. Anna asks for a gun, not to shoot her way out… well, at least not out. Anna is determined, assured, confident. She won’t let them take her. You can tell how she’s been such an incredible, independent asset all these years and why Saul wants so desperately to save her. Scott refuses to hand over his gun and Anna asks to phone a friend.

On the phone, Saul reacts initially just like Scott. There’s got to be another way. We can get out of this, you don’t have to do this. But she is persistent, she’s determined. She wants to end this on her own terms. “I’ve never known anyone so brave,” Saul says, his eyes wide. He orders Scott to give her the gun. On the other end of the line, Saul hears the single shot. He winces in pain.

Shockingly, Russia followed through with their end of the deal and Mirov gets up at the UN with brand new evidence that Jalal Haqqani didn’t shoot down the president’s helicopter. It was an accident and now the whole world can hear the cockpit recording for themselves. Watching in Israel, Carrie’s disgusted. Yevgeny, ever the considerate boyfriend, asks if she’s ok.

Carrie: Just cut the bullshit, the game’s over. Also, why the fuck are you still here? Just leave already. Russia’s a frontrunner for the Nobel Peace Prize and a decent woman is going to be tortured and killed by your government. Yevgeny: That decent woman got two assets of mine killed in Cyprus. Carrie: Oh, I’m sure they were both good samaritans. Yevgeny: Fine, if you want to blame me, go ahead. Carrie: Good, I do blame you! Yevgeny: Look, sometimes it’s just the cost of doing business. I did what I had to do. Carrie: WHY DO ALL THE MEN IN MY LIFE SAY THE SAME THINGS? Yevgeny: He should have pulled Anna from the field the second he realized what you were doing. Carrie: You just don’t fucking get it. He didn’t pull her because he trusted me. He fucking loved me. I betrayed him. I broke that.  Do you even understand what that means? Yevgeny: You’ll survive. So will he. Carrie: I don’t know what it’s like on your side but it must be very lonely.

In the Oval Office, Hayes, Zabel, and Linus—still not eaten by an alligator—are huddled around the TV watching Mirov’s press conference. Mirov pleads with Hayes to stand down following the reveal of this big misunderstanding. Suddenly Zabel looks like he wants to get eaten by an alligator! Hayes asks Linus, who hasn’t been addressed directly by POTUS in 4-6 weeks, for a direct line with the military. They get Owens on the phone. Zabel’s plan to start a phony war to consolidate power and kill more brown people has been thwarted. Everything’s coming up Linus!

Back at Dorit’s house, Yevgeny tells Carrie that Anna’s killed herself. She’s about to make some quippy remark like “Sorry you missed out on some gulag fun” when Yevgeny connects the dots for her and says that Saul must have warned her. And then Carrie connects the dots for us: Israeli counter-intelligence knows too. Time to book it! They hop in their getaway car and head for Ramallah. Yevgeny has people there who can smuggle her into Syria. And then? And then…

Are you sitting down? We fast forward two years. We’re in Moscow. Carrie Mathison is in a large, spacious penthouse. She is applying MASCARA. TO HER EYELASHES. HER HAIR IS CURLED.

“You almost ready?” says a familiar, accented voice. IT’S YEVGENY. She turns and smiles. Y’ALL THEY ARE LIVING TOGETHER IN MOSCOW.

Sara: [head explodes]  

He asks if she’s excited. “Very.” Remember in season five when Claire’s like, “Carrie’s doing great, for five minutes.” This is like that only better.

Yevgeny gives her a gold necklace, for “finishing.” Do we all get one too? He tells her what she’s done is very, very important and it’s time to celebrate. It’s sort of surreal. The best way I can think of to describe it is the season of Lost where Jack and Kate are off the island and living together and in love and if you were, say, into that, it was paradise. If you were, say, not into that, it was bizarre as fuck.

Once ready, Carrie runs into her office to get her purse. It’s… about what you’d expect her office to look like. There are stacks of books everywhere, documents printed out and tacked to the wall, sticky notes all over the window. The picture of Franny in the yellow rain coat is still there. She turns to the wall and takes it in. It’s pages and pages of news articles about the CIA’s drone program, Abu Ghraib, the black sites, torture. Familiar figures—in real life and in-show—are visible. Snowden, Brody, Quinn, Keane. It’s her professional career—her entire life—arrayed in one final collage for us to take in. The familiar closing score from “The Star” begins playing as she shuts off the lights.

Cut to Saul, in his house, now much emptier. He and Dorit are packing boxes. He’s had a heart attack and is moving out, presumably to someplace where he’s not alone all the time. The phone begins to ring. It’s someone looking for a Professor Rabinow.

Then the jazz stars to play. Yevgeny’s big celebration for Carrie was a jazz concert by Kamasi Washington and crew. It’s electrifying. They’re both into it, bobbing their heads as much as one can bob their head to jazz. It’s a clever callback not only to the jazz musicians Carries spots in the pilot but also to this oft-parodied passion of hers. The cacophonous sounds, it’s bliss.

The song finishes and out of the corner of her eye Carrie spots a woman in the orchestra exit her seat. She absentmindedly rubs Yevgeny’s knee. It’s a subtle but specific detail with one purpose and that is to reveal that this relationship is real. It is comfortably intimate. It exists in the grey--in the duplicity--that Carrie’s relationships with men have always existed in. Maybe that’s her happiness. Maybe that’s how she’s not alone.

In DC, Saul pays a visit to his friend Claude, who calls him Professor repeatedly, even though Saul claims all that stuff is over with. Well, the package addressed to Professor Rabinow that was just delivered this morning begs to differ.

At the concert, Carrie excuses herself to go freshen up her makeup and ends up at the vanity right next to that woman she’d spotted. The other woman eyes Carrie, before casually taking off with Carrie’s purse. Carrie takes hers.

At his home, Saul has the Professor Rabinow package. He opens it. It’s Carrie’s book, the presumed result of all that research in her office. It’s called Tyranny of Secrets. A haunting black-and-white image of Carrie stares back at him from the cover. This is her work... and it’s his, too. He flips through the first few pages. He reads the subtitle, “Why I Had to Betray My Country.” And the dedication, “For my daughter, in the hope that one day she will understand.”  

He doesn’t get it until he does. He flips the book upside down into that familiar Y shape and then extracts a slim piece of paper from the spine. She reads: “Greetings from Moscow, Professor. The Russian S400 missile defense system sold to Iran and Turkey has a back door. It can be defeated. Specs to follow. Stay tuned.” He looks up in awe, a hint of a smile across his face.

At the concert, the saxophone blares in her ears, vocals ringing, strings, bass, piano, drums. Everything, all at once. She sighs, then smiles, bathed in blue light. Not noise. Music.

#homeland #prisoners of war #homeland spoilers #* #by: sara #an hyh recap #PHEW

[jjbaebank]

ahh my first request! (❤️ ur writing btw) anyways, how about one where the gang is having a boneyard party and y/n and jj’s song comes on and he and the gang hype her and kie up while they twerk or whatever IDK IF THIS IS WEIRD BUT IT WOULD BE MAD FUNNY

A/N: I’m sorry if you were looking for a more provocative song choice but you said “funny” so I couldn’t help but choose this song XD, I hope you like it! Also THANK YOU :) and I’m very honored that I am your first request <3 

“John B, can you turn the music up?” JJ yelled to John B, who was manning both the keg and the speaker and music.

You were sitting on JJ’s lap on a log in the middle of the Boneyard, surrounded by your friends who were mingling with other pogues, tourons, kooks, the works. JJ’s arms were locked tightly around your waist, and his head rested on your shoulder. You sipped a cup of beer and watched the party happening around you. You and JJ were watching different people are trying to read their lips and decipher what they were saying, but given the weird-ass stuff you seemed to read, you were probably doing it wrong.

As John B turned the music off, the ending of the song Kokomo by The Beach Boys played. Looking down at his phone, he yelled “JJ, Y/N, Replay’s next!”

Kie came running over to you. “JJ, I know this is your and Y/N’s special song, but may I have a dance with the lady?”

JJ nodded and released you and you stood up, laughing. You turned to face JJ, and checked to make sure he was okay with it. His expression was neutral, so you leaned forward to whisper “You won’t regret it,” in his ear, before pulling away a little so he could see your wink.

“Okay, yeah!” He nodded quickly and gave you a little push towards Kie.

Kie grabbed your hand and led you shortly away, only about 5 or so steps, but enough so you guys could dance with no logs in your way or anything.

“Kie, you better not be stealing my girl!” JJ shouted after you jokingly, but he only pretended to be angry. Replay was your and JJ’s song. The song that played the first time you kissed. It had been in the car, and JJ turned on the radio to try and get some sexy music going, but he had ended up turning on the wrong station and Replay had been blasted. It kinda ruined the mood, and caused you to break out in laughter, and him to be really embarrassed. But you hadn’t minded. It didn’t stop you from grabbing his face and turning him towards you, then leaning in to kiss him. Probably not a typical first kiss song, but it gave you a good story, and honestly you thought it made the kiss even more special.

“I’m sorry JJ, besties over testes!” You called back to him and shrugged your shoulders, with a sarcastic “sorry” kind of look.

He rolled his eyes and laughed at you, which you smiled at before you turned to Kie.

“Ready?” You asked.

She nodded, and you did your best friends handshake (which was pretty cringey (but that was exactly why you loved it), before the song started to play.

“Shawty like a melody in my head that I can’t keep out got me singing like na na na na every day, it’s like my iPod stuck on replay, replay-ay-ay-ay!”

As the song started, you and Kie sung the lyrics at the top of your lungs, well in between peals of laughter. Your movements were huge and exaggerated, and you weren’t taking anything seriously, just having pure fun.

You were focused on Kie but when you looked up, you noticed John B, Pope, and Sarah had also moved towards you guys and were watching your dance, along with JJ.

“That girl like somethin’ off a poster, that girl is a dime they say, that girl is a gun to my holster, she’s running through my mind all day ay...”

You changed your dance move from the sprinkler to swinging your hips and shaking your ass, and Kie followed suit.

“Goddamn, girl!” JJ whistled at you, his eyes staring directly at your backside.

“Okay, hottie alert!” Sarah laughed, making a half heart with her hand and pointing at you and Kie.

“Fuck yeah!” John B called, pumping his fist along with the beat. Sarah wasn’t upset, she knew John B loved her and only saw you platonically.

“Oh... oh... oh!” Pope cheered somewhat awkwardly. He seemed to not know what to say in response to your scandalous dancing, and you think you knew the reason why. You looked from him to Kie, and saw that he was watching her shimmy to the beat, her eyes closed and hair swinging around her face. You caught Pope staring and tilted your head towards Kie, giving him a wink. You looked back at JJ and slowly dropped low to the sand, before standing back up. He was looking at you like he wanted to do something to you right then and there.

Smirking, you looked right at him while you and Kie took turns smacking each other’s asses playfully. His mouth dropped right open, and stayed like that until Pope leaned over and pushed his chin up, closing his mouth.

“How are you so sexy?” Sarah wooped.

Laughing at JJ’s reaction, you switched your dance to some really bad fortnite dances.

“Shawty like a melody in my head that I can’t keep out got me singing’ like, na na na na every day, like my iPod stuck on replay, replay-ay-ay-ay.”

As the song came to an end, you high fived Kie and pulled her in for a hug, breathing hard.

When you let go, you stumbled back over to JJ and fell down onto his lap again, still breathless.

“Baby, that was so hot. I want... to take you home... right now...” he whispered into your ear, pressing repeated kisses to your cheek in between words. You grinned and let out a happy sigh.

Once Kie caught her breath, she called out to JJ, “Thanks for letting me dance with Y/N during your song. I hope I didn’t ruin it,” she smiled playfully, cocking an eyebrow.

“Fuck no, that was hot as hell. You should dance with her more often, if it means I’ll be able to see her like that more,” he joked and tightened his grip around your waist lovingly. “As long as sometimes Iget to dance with my girl and our song.”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’ll have to find one of our own...” Kie pondered, tilting her head as she thought.

“Hmm, maybe Anaconda? Like a Virgin? No Diggity? Slow Hands? Andante Andante? I’m Too Sexy?” Kie listed off a list of obviously very sex-related songs.

“Oh, all of those sound fantastic,” you laughed.

“It’ll have to be later, because we have to go NOW,” JJ said quickly and placed an arm behind your back and one under your knees, holding your bridal style.

“Bye!” you giggled to your friends as JJ ran as fast as he could with you safely in his arms.

You could hear a chorus of laughter behind you but you didn’t really care. You knew what you were going home to was going to be a lot better.

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Be My Muse [1/2]

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Peggy

Summary: Modern AU. This part involves handsome strangers, a bar and friends trying to set each other up on dates.

Warnings: Potentially some language. Besides that, none, unless you need a warning for fluff :)

Notes: For @just-some-drabbles‘ writing challenge. My prompt was #42: “It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules.” This is in bold somewhere.

Also - I’ve never worked in a cafe/coffee shop, so apologies if things aren’t accurate. Feel free to (constructively) correct me if this is the case!

[Part 2]

My Masterlist || {gif source}

The cafe is always quiet at 4pm on a Thursday.

You’re busying yourself behind the counter, taking advantage of the afternoon lull to get some cleaning and organising done. Thus far, you’ve polished the pastry display case, wiped down the countertop and put away the cleaned mugs and plates from this morning’s customers.

Although the cafe is a lovely place to work in, it’s not exactly where you imagined yourself to be, at this stage of your life.

Oh, sure, you could have landed a far worse job. Though it gets lonely sometimes, having to do the afternoon shift by yourself, at least you have a great friend in Sharon, who comes by to help you with the busier morning shift everyday. Besides, the peace that settles over the cafe once the lunch hour is over is a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of your life. Maria, the owner, is a kind — if, fairly strict — boss, and the pay here is better than anything you could have gotten anywhere else.

There’re several less-than-positive things about this job, like the bathroom that reeks of urine no matter how hard you scrub it, plus the fact that you seem to only get customers that love to loudly complain about the slow service is, but hey; it’s a job that pays and one you’re glad to have. As such, you’re willing to overlook the less savoury aspects of it.

You’re in the middle of arranging glasses on the shelves when the bell over the door dings, and the most stunning man you’ve ever set eyes on walks into the shop.

You try to surreptitiously check him out as he casts his eyes over the menu. He’s well-built, with chestnut brown, slightly wavy hair that is tied back into a little bun. The stranger wears a black leather jacket over a grey t-shirt, both garments hugging his body in a most delectable manner. His dark blue jeans accentuate what has got to be the best looking ass you’ve ever seen and those thighs, my god. You have to physically restrain yourself from thinking salacious thoughts about them. When he pulls his sunglasses off, you have to fight the urge to swoon, because damn - a face like that belongs in a magazine.

Mr Handsome saunters up to the counter, hands thrust into his pockets and you dash over to assist him, wiping your sweaty palms on your apron and hoping to the dear gods above that you don’t make a fool of yourself.

“H-hi,” you stutter, immediately chiding yourself for letting him see how flustered you are. “Um, how can I help you?”

The man smiles, “What do you recommend I get?” he asks. Oh, sweet lord, that voice — gifted to him by the goddamn angels. Deep and mellow, but at the same time slightly husky. It makes your knees weak.

You gulp, trying desperately not to get lost in the alluring blue of his eyes. “Um, well, th—the lemon tart. That’s—that’s my favourite. And—uh, if you want a drink, the—um, any coffee’s good,”.

“D’you make them?” he asks, leaning casually against the pastry display.

Oh.

Your brain very much like how that posture makes his shirt ride up slightly, exposing just the tiniest strip of flesh. You force yourself to take a deep breath to steady your racing heart. “I—yes. I make them,” you reply.

Mr Handsome grins, “Then of course they’re gonna be good,” he quips.

You blush. “Oh, um—,”

“I’ll have whatever your specialty is,” he says, “And the lemon tart. And your name, if that’s okay,”.

You giggle girlishly, internally wincing at how high-pitched and fake it sounds. “It’s Y/N,” you tell him, “Would you like that to-go?”

“I’m James,” he says simply, shifting to rest both both elbows on the counter as you step away, “And yes, to-go. I’ve got to meet someone,”.

This close, you can’t help but notice the sleek leather glove he wears on his left hand. For a brief moment, you wonder why he has it covered up. “Sure thing,” you murmur distractedly, grabbing a take-away cup and turning the coffee machine on, grabbing the milk you’ll need to fix him — James, you remind yourself — a latte.

“Quiet, today, huh?” James comments, taking stock of the little shop.

“It’s normally pretty quiet around this time,” you admit, “Kinda like it. The mornings are the busiest, so it’s nice to get a break after,”.

“You’ve been working here long?” he asks curiously.

“Um, just over a year,” you reply. “But I’m hoping that changes soon,”.

“Oh? Explain, if you don’t mind,”.

You sigh, hitting a few buttons on the coffee machine and watching as it starts to warm up. “Well, I’ve…I’ve always wanted to have my own shop. A little bakery, somewhere. I’ve got my eye on a place, but I haven’t had the money to put down a deposit. So I’ve been saving up,” you tell James, as you pull out a box to put his lemon tart in.

“Sounds lovely,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “You bake, huh?”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling fondly as memories of Sunday mornings spent in your mother’s kitchen spring to mind. “My mama and I used to bake all sorts of things on the weekends. We’d have bake sales, sometimes, to raise money for whatever charity my dad was supporting at the time. We were gonna open a bakery together. I was gonna go to pastry school, and everything,”.

“What changed?” James asks quietly, sensing the wistfulness in your tone.

You’re silent for a moment, masking your hesitation by fussing around with his drink, finishing the art on his foam with a well-practiced flick of your wrist. When it’s done, you turn around, fold your arms over your chest and bite your lip. Talking about your mother and your shattered dreams have stirred up feelings of grief and loss that you’d thought were long buried in the back of your mind. The rational part of you knows that you have no obligation to tell James anything, but there’s an honesty in his eyes that makes you trust him.

“I—my dad lost his job, which he’d had for nearly twenty years. He—he drank. A lot. And one night, he was driving drunk, with my ma in the passenger seat, and they—didn’t make it home,”, you say, voice a little strained at the end.

“I’m sorry,” James says, and when your gaze flicks over to him, you see genuine sincerity in his gaze. “That must’ve been hard for you,”.

You shrug, crossing over to the pastry display and using out a pair of tongs to pull out a lemon tart, which you carefully slide into the box you’ve prepared. “It was, but it was a while ago. I’ve…been doing okay since then. Still hoping to open that bakery someday,”.

“I’m sure you will,” James murmurs.

“And yourself?” you ask, turning your back to him temporarily so that you can secure the box shut. “What do you work as?”

“I—am a writer,” James answers, though his tone is a little terse. “Well, at least, I’m supposed to be one,”.

“What d’you mean?”

“I’ve…had writer’s block. For the longest time. And my editor and publisher—they’re starting to get impatient. I just…haven’t been in the mood for it, y’know?”

“My sympathies,” you reply, looping a blue ribbon around the box and deftly tying it into a neat bow. “That must suck,”.

“Yeah,” James sighs, “But talking to you has helped given me some ideas,”.

“Really?” you murmur, lips quirking up into an easy smile as you hand him his drink and tart. “That’s eleven, please,”.

“Yes, really,” James says sincerely, fishing out his wallet from back pocket and handing you a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the change,”.

“Oh, no, I—,”

“Please,” James says, already beginning to walk towards the door, “Save up for your little bakery,”.

You duck your head so that he can’t see the smile bursting over your expression, “Thanks,”.

“See you around,” he calls, as he shoulders the door open.

As you watch his form get swallowed by the swarming crowd outside, you give yourself a mental smack to the forehead for not having the foresight to give him your number. All you can do now is hope that you see James sometime soon.

——————————

“Ooh, hottie alert,” Natasha snickers, eyes flickering across the room towards the bar. Following her line of sight, you crane your neck to see who she’s referring to, Peggy and Wanda doing likewise.

“Oh, god,” Peggy groans, eyes widening slightly.

“Oh yes,” Wanda says, a grin spreading over her face.

It’s Friday night, which means that you and the girls are spending the evening at your favourite bar, parked in your default corner booth. You’re nursing a G&T, and somehow, Natasha has managed to coax everyone into a game of truth or dare. The aforementioned game has just been interrupted, as Nat has spotted one of the bar’s other frequent customers.

“You have to ask him out, Pegs,” Wanda insists, eyes still trained on the muscular blonde. “He’s a really nice guy,”.

“For the hundredth time, it’s not happening,” Peggy growls sullenly, gaze firmly fixed on the empty beer bottle in the middle of the table. “Now, come on, Natasha, spin it, will you?”.

Nat arches on perfectly-sculpted eyebrow, but says nothing as she gives the bottle a spin with a deft flick of her wrist. As luck would have it, the spout ends up pointing in Peggy’s direction.

“Truth or dare?” Natasha asks, grinning smugly as she sits back in her chair.

Peggy quirks up her own eyebrow in response to Natasha’s unspoken challenge. Those two go after each other like a pair of fighting bulls, honestly. “Dare,” Peggy says, tone resolute and confident.

“Oooh,” Wanda murmurs, tilting her head closer to yours. “Nat’s dare are the worst,”.

“Or best, depending on how you look at it,” you reply. Wanda snorts, amused.

Nat cocks her head to the side and chews her lip thoughtfully, brow furrowed in concentration. One finger idly traces the rim of her glass. “Got it!” she says, snapping her gaze to Peggy, “I dare you, to go over to the bar and ask blondie out,”.

“Steve?” Peggy hisses, agahast, “Natasha—no,”.

“Natasha, yes,” Nat shoots back, fighting hard to keep the triumphant, mocking grin from spreading across her face.

“Please,” Peggy begs, “I—I you know how I feel about—,”.

“And that is precisely, why you have to do it,” Natasha interrupts. “I’m doing you a favour here,”.

“I shan’t do it,” Peggy grumbles.

“It’s a dare, you have to do it. Those are the rules,” Natasha says flatly, tone leaving no further room for argument.

“C’mon, Peggy,” Wanda urges, “You two have been making eyes at each other for the last month. It was gonna happen eventually,”.

“Fine,” Peggy huffs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine, I’ll do it. But on one condition. Y/N has to come with me,”.

“I—what?” you ask sharply.

“For moral support,” Peggy explains, turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Since when have you needed moral support for shit like this?” Nat mumbles.

Peggy turns up the intensity of her gaze and you feel your resolve melting under it. When have you ever been able to say no to one of your friends, anyway?

“Okay, okay,”, you sigh, “Let’s go. C’mon, up,”.

“Good luck!” Wanda chirps, as you and Peggy make your way over to the corner of the bar that Steve is leaning against. Peggy clutches your elbow when you draw nearer, as if needing some physical reassurance. 

“I can’t believe I let her talk me into this,” Peggy mutters under her breath, casting an evil glance in Nat’s direction.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He seems like a nice enough guy. What d’you want me to do?” you ask.

“Umm…can you do the introductions?” Peggy whispers, “You’re always so much better at that part,”.

You roll your eyes. “So long as you do the actual asking,” you respond dryly.

“Deal,”.

Peggy drops her hand from your elbow, allowing you to saunter up to Steve. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, watching as you nonchalantly lean back against the counter, then swivel your head to look directly at his profile. Somewhere to your left, Peggy hovers, apprehension radiating off her in thick waves.

When he senses you looking at him, Steve turns his head and flashes you a gentle smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, voice deep and gentle.

“Ma’am?” you echo, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. “My, my, you are a polite one, aren’t you?”

Steve shrugs and ducks his head, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. “Well, my ma raised me to always remember my manners,” he admits.

“God bless her,” you say. “You’re Steve, right? I’m pretty sure we’ve talked before. Just, y’know, with me being a lot more drunk,”.

Steve chuckles heartily, eyes glinting with merriment. “Yes, I seem to recall something along those lines happening,”.

You laugh along with him, before resting a hand on his forearm pointedly. His eyes flicker over your face, confusion furrowing his brow. “Is there something I can help you with?” he repeats.

“Actually, there is something,”, you murmur, motioning with your fingers for Peggy to come forward. She appears by your side not a heartbeat later, and Steve turns to face her.

“Hi,” Peggy says, body going uncharacteristically tense. “I’m—Peggy. We’ve uh—,”. You resist the urge to giggle; you’ve never seen Peggy this flustered. Steve must really be doing a number on her heart.

“Hey, I’ve seen you in here before, haven’t I?” Steve asks, gracefully swooping in to save Peggy from potentially making a fool of herself. Well, really, she’s too composed to make a fool of herself, but you appreciate Steve’s thoughtfulness, nonetheless. Sensing that your work here is done, and that the two are about to have a conversation, you step away, giving them some privacy.

“Yes,” Peggy breathes, relief spreading through her shoulders, “Yes, we have. I’ve got a question to ask you, actually,”

“Ask away,” Steve says, smiling easily at her.

“Would you like to dance?” she blurts out.

“I’d love to—,” is what Steve begins to say, before he is cut off by his phone vibrating on the table beside him, pinging with the noise of an incoming text. Steve glances at the screen and frowns, “Sorry, I need to get this,” he mutters, shooting Peggy an apologetic look. He unlocks his phone and swipes a few buttons, brow becoming increasingly furrowed as the seconds tick past.

With a heavy sigh, he straightens up and gives Peggy a pained look.

“Is everything alright?” Peggy asks concernedly.

Steve sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. “I—something came up. A friend—my best friend. He’s—I need to see him,”. He pauses, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance,”, he murmurs, looking at Peggy through his outrageously long lashes.

“Alright,” Peggy says softly, “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club,”

“You got it,”, Steve replies, a hesitant smile spreading over his face.

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late, understood?”, she continues. That sounds more like the Peggy you know; firm and unrelenting, not taking any bullshit from anyone.

Steve manages a chuckle, amused by her forwardness. “You know, I don’t actually know how to dance,” he admits, adding a little shrug for emphasis.

“I’ll show you how,” Peggy says, expression and tone softening, “Just be there,”.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Steve replies, a far-off look in his eyes. “Here, let me give you my number,”, he mutters, patting his pockets for a pen and grabbing his napkin from under his glass. He flips it over to the drier side and scrawls on it a string of digits, before thrusting the little tissue into her palm. “See you, I guess,” Steve says, flashing Peggy one final, cheeky grin, before turning to head out the door.

“Bye,” Peggy murmurs, expression distant and fond and love-struck.

“I think someone’s in it deep,” you sing-song, elbowing her playfully in the ribs.

“Oh hush, you,” Peggy snaps, but there’s no heat in her voice, which only makes you cackle gleefully. “So what if I am? I think he’s a nice guy to have a crush on,”.

“I wonder if her has a friend that’s just as nice?” you muse, “Nice guys are so hard to come by, nowadays,”. Even as you speak, your mind thinks back to a dark-haired, well-dressed stranger walking into your shop, putting butterflies in your stomach whilst simultaneously making you feel completely at ease.

“Want me to ask him?” Peggy says, waving the napkin in her hand.

“I think I’m good,”, you murmur, grabbing her upper arm and leading her back to the booth where Nat and Wanda are waiting anxiously.

She shrugs. “Suit yourself,”.

——————————

Peggy breaks the news once you’re on the way back home.

“You what?”

“I set you up on a blind date!” she repeats.

“With who? When?” you ask incredulously.

“Steve’s friend,” Peggy replies, “After I got his number, I decided to ask,”.

“Steve’s friend?” you echo, “I told you not to ask!”

“You never told me explicitly,” Peggy says defensively, “You just said ‘I think I’m good’, so I took it upon myself to ask on your behalf. His name’s Bucky, by the way,”.

“Call it off,” you growl.

“I shan’t,” Peggy replies, in that tone she uses when she’s unwilling to back down from a fight.

“Y/N, you haven’t been on a date in months,” Wanda interjects, “Maybe this’ll do you some good,”.

“C’mon, Y/N, what harm can it do? You might actually like the guy,” Natasha adds, slinging her arm over your shoulders.

“Fat chance,” you grumble, thinking back to James at your cafe. You’ve only spent ten minutes, at most with him, but you’re positive that he’s taken your heart.

“Just try,” Wanda implores. “When is it, Peggy?”

“Tomorrow, 8pm, at that Thai place ‘round the corner,”, she replies.

“Fine,” you grumble, “I’ll do it, if it’ll make y’all leave me alone,”.

------------------------- Permanent tags: @feelmyroarrrr @rda1989 @bidianaprinxe @lumelgy @hollycornish @youtubehelpsmesurvive @knock-around-meg-blog @amour-quinn @onceuponahiddleston @aquabrie @sanjariti

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[27dragons]

@tisfan wasn’t feeling inspired by this prompt, but I had an idea, so I stole the prompt and ran away with it, giggling madly. You can read it here or on AO3.

Prompt: I saw that you avcepted prompts and i had one in mind for winteriron. Person A and a group of friends own a haunted house.Person A works as one of the scarers.Person B comes to visit haunted house for fun. Person B hands up punching Person A when they make them jumpscare too hard. -- from @giftedofthealfheimr​ 

“This year’s haunted house is going to be the best ever,” Tony enthused.

Rhodey finished nailing a support beam into place as if he were entirely oblivious to Tony’s quivering excitement, the bastard. Finally, he turned to Tony with an ill-concealed smirk. “Is it?”

“It is,” Tony said. “Ask me why.”

Rhodey’s eyes narrowed, and Tony tried to project innocent delight. It wasn’t something he was very good at, but Rhodey was a sure thing, anyway, so he didn’t try very hard. Finally, Rhodey sighed. “Why is it going to be the best, Tones?”

“Oh, dear, you shouldn’t have done that,” said a hollow, ghostly voice.

Rhodey jumped and looked up at the speaker over his head. “What the hell--”

“Hell, indeed,” the voice said, and chuckled wickedly.

“Okay, now that’s just creepy,” Rhodey said, taking a not-so-surreptitious step back. “But you know, Tones, we’ve tried having tailored ghost voices in rooms before, but it doesn’t work that well once everything’s dark and the usual spooky soundtrack is playing. It’s hard to discern--”

Tony waved it away. “This isn’t a voice actor,” he explained. “Rhodey, meet Just Another Vanishing Insane Spectre, or JARVIS.”

“Tony. Did you make an AI specifically to scare people? Seriously?”

“Actually,” Tony said, “I made him to keep watch. Remember last year, we had that one kid who fainted and nobody noticed for like fifteen minutes? He could’ve really gotten hurt if he’d fallen wrong! JARVIS will watch for people who get too freaked out and dispatch one of the staff to rescue them. He can monitor breathing and heart rate, core temperature, pupil dilation, all kinds of things!”

Rhodey eyed him suspiciously. “Is that right?”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Rhodes,” JARVIS put in politely, without any echo or reverb on the voicebox this time.

“...Okay,” Rhodey said. “So what’s with the spooking?”

“Well, haunted houses are supposed to be a little scary,” Tony said. “JARVIS has a range to work with -- if someone gets over a certain threshold, he’ll call for rescue. But if they’re under a certain threshold, he’ll up the ante for them. I’m trying to figure out how he can alert the actors in each scene for performance levels as a group comes in, you know, or who the jumpscare guys should target.”

“You’ve put entirely too much thought into this already,” Rhodey said. “When did you start working on this?”

“September third,” Tony said.

“Of last year,” JARVIS not-so-helpfully supplied.

“Okay,” said Rhodey. “We’ll give it a try for the first few dry-runs, anyway, see how it goes.”

[Mobile readers, mind the break, or skip over to AO3 to finish reading!]

“C’mon, Rogers, what are you, chicken?”

Steve had pulled to a stop as soon as he’d realized their destination. “No,” he said, staring at the house at the end of the block. “I’m just not sure you know what you’re doing. We should start with something a little less--”

“Give it a rest, wouldja, Stevie?” Bucky whined. “I’m sick of letting the damn brain goolies run my life. I can handle a damn haunted house.”

“Buck, this is literally the scariest haunted house on the campus-- no, in the whole state.” There was a sign on the lawn proclaiming exactly that, with a quote attributed to a local paper.

“The engineering department,” Bucky scoffed. “I’m sure it will be technically amazing, but it’s not like they really know what they’re doing. I skipped the theater department’s house.”

“Which took second place,” Steve pointed out, “to, yes, the engineering department. Because the theater people have stagecraft and great actors, but the engineers have Tony Stark.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m going in the house, Steve. Are you coming with me, or not?”

“Fine,” Steve said, groaning. “Someone has to keep your traumatized ass out of trouble.”

Bucky resumed walking. Six months, he’d been back. Six months with only one arm and nothing to do but skulk around Steve’s place and do fucking PT and go to fucking counseling sessions and fucking occupational therapy. Six months of having to learn how to do shit with only one hand, six months of “working through the anger,” six months of the goddamn nightmares.

He wanted to do this. He wanted to do it because he’d always loved haunted houses as a kid, because he knew the blood and gore would look fake (he knew what real gore looked like now) and because he wanted to be scared and know there wasn’t actually a threat.

The good kind of scared. Not the split-second I’m going to die scared he’d felt when he saw the explosion begin to blossom, or the horrible and unending I’m never going to be normal again scared he’d endured for those weeks in the hospital. Just... startled, and then laugh it off.

The line for the haunted house stretched all the way down the block, though it moved at a decent clip. They saw more than a few groups of students leaving the house, still chattering excitedly about their favorite parts. None of them seemed traumatized.

“Last chance to back out,” Steve said as they approached the ticket booth that had been set up by the front door.

“Fuck you,” Bucky said, and stepped up to the window. A sign on the booth said that proceeds from the haunted house were going to sponsor the students’ trip to Washington for a Battle Bots tournament in November, and everything after that was going to several local charities. The Battle Bots line had been crossed out and someone had written in, Achievement unlocked! Bucky handed over his five bucks and grinned toothily at Steve. “Come on, Steve, do it for the kids.” He tapped the name of the children’s hospital on the list of charities. Steve was a sucker for kids.

Steve rolled his eyes, but turned over his five bucks as well.

They walked into the house, and a pleasant zing of excitement and nerves ran down Bucky’s spine. He could totally do this.

The first couple of rooms were impressively built but basically warm-up rooms -- spooky but static scenes with eerie music and a slightly crackly soundtrack. Bucky leaned over the ropes to look at all the fine details that had been put in, and found himself chortling at the underlying signs that the place was a student house -- graffiti on the walls, suspicious stains that weren’t fake blood, a pizza box that someone had shoved under a couch.

There was a jumpscare from a guy in a vampire costume on the way to the third room that made Bucky’s heart lurch. The way Steve laughed nervously made him think Steve wasn’t unaffected, either.

The third room was the first live scene -- a pretty redhead being menacingly seduced by a guy dressed like a devil. It was creepy, but not especially scary. Especially not when Bucky caught sight of the devil’s perfect bubble butt. “That is not the kind of thrill I was expecting,” he muttered under his breath.

He might have said that a little louder than he meant to -- Steve didn’t seem to have caught it, but the devil suddenly broke the fourth wall to look straight at him. The devil’s eyes caught the mood lighting and seemed to glow in the dim room as he gave Bucky a seductive smirk. It seemed like exactly the wrong thing to do -- but then Bucky realized that the girl had slumped to the floor, eyes staring sightlessly, and suddenly Bucky was trapped between fear and wanting, and his heart was pounding in the best kind of way.

That little spike of adrenaline seemed to carry perfectly through the next several rooms -- a chainsaw murderer standing over dismembered and gory bodies who suddenly turned to swing the saw at them; an impressively-engineered convocation of mostly transparent ghosts; and a howling and slavering werewolf that tipped its head and then lunged at them just when Bucky had started to catch his breath again.

That was the secret, he thought giddily -- not the technical execution, though that was excellent. But someone had done an amazing job of engineering the timing and rhythm of the scariest scenes and jump scares.

There was a long, winding passage in complete darkness, then, only their hands on the painted foam walls to guide them. The weirdling music and spooky noises from the first couple of rooms was playing here, and that faint scratching sound suddenly seemed ominous rather than amateur. Was it Bucky’s imagination, or was the passage getting narrower?

It was.

He and Steve had to go one by one, and then they had to turn sideways, and then squeeze into the foam until it was pressing against them, and there was plenty of air but Bucky was gasping anyway.

“I see a light,” Steve called back to him, and Bucky nearly groaned aloud in relief. He pushed through the foam, following Steve, and they found themselves in a blacklit room, fluorescent shapes darting around wildly. Okay. Okay, this wasn’t so bad--

And that was when the disembodied voice started talking to them.

The hottie was definitely not dating the blond bombshell he’d come in with, Tony surmised, because not once had they reached for each other’s hands, or hugged, or shown any affection aside from the occasional friendly punch in the arm. That was good. Tony wasn’t enough of a dick to hit on a guy who was already dating someone.

Tony made JARVIS keep him updated on the hottie’s progress through the house and willed the clock to move a little faster -- it was only minutes until his break, and if he moved fast, he’d be able to catch up with the hottie and flirt him into a date before he had to go take over random jumpscare duty from Bruce. Finally, Clint and Natasha came into the Seductive Devil Room to relieve Tony and Pepper. (Natasha made an even better Seductive Devil than Tony, though Clint rather oversold his Innocent Victim schtick.)

“I’ll catch up with you later,” he told Pepper.

She kissed his cheek. “Have fun,” she said, and made her way down the hall toward the secret door that led to the kitchen.

Tony dashed through the main house, knowing JARVIS would tell the other performers that it was just him and not to bother. Though Rhodey, in the Werewolf Room, still growled at him. Tony grinned and flashed a thumbs-up before slipping into the Narrowing Hallway and jogging along, one hand trailing on the wall. JARVIS didn’t bother pushing the walls together for him, though as he got closer to the Whispering Room, the voice in his earbud said, “Sir, I might suggest--”

Tony didn’t pay any attention to JARVIS’ suggestion, whatever it was, because there was the Whispering Room, and there was the hottie, still with his friend.

Seductive devil, he reminded himself. He slipped up behind them. “Welcome to my lair...”

The hottie whirled around and Tony’s world exploded in light and pain.

“Oh shit!” Bucky gasped. His heart was still pounding, his breath whistling in his lungs, but he’d--

It was the devil, the cute devil with the great ass, was on the floor, hands clasped over his face where Bucky had punched him, oh shit.

“Oh my god, shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky said uselessly.

Steve was on his knees, urging the devil to roll over, to let Steve look at it. When had the normal lights come on? The weird noises had stopped, too, and--

The werewolf ran into the room, closely followed by Frankenstein’s monster. “Tony!” the werewolf barked, diving for the devil. Jesus, how had they gotten the word so fast?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Frankenstein’s monster eyed Bucky, then took him gently by the arm and pulled him a few steps away. “Hey, look at me,” the monster said. “Are you okay?”

Bucky had a hard time dragging his gaze from the devil -- Tony? -- but when he did, he found that the monster had hazel eyes and a forehead crinkled with worry under the makeup. “I’m... I was...”

“Yeah, you were at the top of an adrenaline spike,” the monster said. “He added to your stress level at exactly the wrong instant, it sounds like. Are you okay now?”

“I... think so,” Bucky managed. He looked past the monster at Tony again. “Is he okay?”

Tony was sitting up now, the werewolf hovering protectively over him. Steve got up and went to the entryway -- which looked like a normal hall now, and not the foam hell Bucky’d had to squeeze through earlier -- to meet a woman dressed like a vampire, who handed over a cold pack.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” the monster said. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere a little calmer until you’re ready to head out.” He tugged gently at Bucky’s arm. Bucky didn’t resist -- being kicked out was the least he could expect after attacking a cast member; he’d be lucky if they didn’t sue him for it.

They hadn’t gone three steps when Steve appeared. “Are you kicking us out?” he asked, right on the verge of belligerent.

“Stevie,” Bucky said. “Don’t.”

“Not at all,” said the monster. “I am getting you off the main floor, though, so we can resume operation.” He pushed aside a curtain and opened the door that was behind it. “In here.”

“Here” appeared to be a dorm room, unmade bunked beds against one wall and a pair of desks opposite them, piled high with books and laptops. A drafting table stood in one corner, a half-finished technical schematic taped in place. The monster pulled out a desk chair and swiveled it toward Bucky. “Here, have a seat. Catch your breath. When you’re ready, you can--”

“Bruce!” The door burst open to reveal the devil. Tony. He was still holding the ice pack over his face, but the other eye was wide and frantic. “What did you-- Oh, you’re still here, good!” He traded a few words with the monster, who shrugged and left. Tony turned back to Steve and Bucky. “I wanted to apologize.”

Bucky blinked. ���What’re you apologizing for? I’m the one who hauled off and decked you.”

“Sure, but I should’ve known better, JARVIS tried to tell me you weren’t up for any more, and I didn’t listen.”

“No one could’ve known,” Bucky argued. “I didn’t even realize how on-edge I was until it happened.”

“I knew,” Steve put in, and prudently stepped back before Bucky could kick him. “You’ve been on edge for months, Buck. I told you a haunted house was a bad idea.”

Bucky groaned and put his face in his hands. “It was fine until...”

“Until I burst in and dropped that last straw on the camel’s back, huh?” Tony guessed. “Come on, let me make it up to you. Coffee?”

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to drink coffee anymore; the caffeine--” Steve kicked the chair Bucky was sitting in.

Bucky glared at him. “What? That’s what the doc said!” Steve raised an eyebrow and tipped his head toward Tony pointedly.

Tony, who behind the devilish makeup, was really cute. And had a hopeful look on his face.

Oh.

Coffee.

“I, uh, I mean, they’ve got hot chocolate and tea, too, though, right?” Bucky recovered lamely. Steve rolled his eyes, but forbore kicking the chair again.

Tony beamed. Huh, that fussy little goatee looked real. Bucky wondered if he’d grown it specially for the haunted house or if he always wore facial hair. It looked good on him, or would once the red facepaint had been cleaned off. Tony fished a phone out of his back pocket. “Let me just...”

Bucky fumbled out his own phone and they traded information. Maybe after they had coffee, Tony would let Bucky offer his own apology, in the form of dinner.

One Year Later

Jim Rhodes pulled his lip back in a convincing snarl, and Bucky made an effort to dodge, to run-- but it was too late; the werewolf had leapt on him and was enthusiastically gnawing at his shoulder.

Bucky wailed and thrashed to disguise him unhooking his prosthetic and puncturing the little bag of fake blood hiding at the top of it. One good yank, and a roll, and--

The trio of friends watching the tableaux screamed as Bucky’s arm came free, “ripped” off by the werewolf’s brute strength and razor-like teeth.

Bucky kept thrashing so they wouldn’t get a good look at his stump until the light went out to encourage the group to move along to the next room. As soon as they were gone, Bucky pulled off the top layer of the protective cloth and threw it into the trashcan disguised as a tree stump, and fitted another prepared cap over the end of his arm.

While he did that, Rhodes kicked the fallen leaves over the fake bloodstain to hide it and scrambled back into the shadows from whence he’d pounce.

Steve was in the kitchen; he didn’t like being “on stage”, but he had a real knack for gloriously gruesome makeup that looked distressingly real in the blacklights and strobes in the main part of the house. He was the one who’d come up with the quick-change caps for Bucky’s prosthetic to make it look like a real, bleeding arm when it “fell” off.

“Ten second warning,” JARVIS said into Bucky’s earpiece, and he jammed his hunter’s hat onto his head and snatched up the fake rifle, trying to suppress his grin. Working the haunted house was tough, but so much fun.

Of course, it would be even more fun after the house had closed for the night, when Bucky could hunt down his devilishly handsome boyfriend. After hours of being gnawed on by a werewolf, Bucky was looking forward to getting his mouth on Tony.

The End

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[msbigredmachine]

The Mechanic - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. Roman Reigns/OC.

Comments will be greatly appreciated!

"No, no! Not now, goddamn it!" Anya smacked her hand on the dashboard, which was showing her bad news. The check engine light had come on out of nowhere, and before she knew it her car had stuttered into a complete standstill on the side of the road. "Great, just great," she griped. 

Her 2005 Chevy Impala always seemed to have one issue or the other. In the past year, the alternator had given up, then the air-conditioning had died on her, and now it was obviously the engine’s turn. The car was just a goddamn mess, and her former quack of a mechanic hadn’t helped matters either. But berating him was not going to solve her current dilemma. She still had a couple more errands to run, and she was yet to get her grocery shopping done. But now, the car wouldn't crank anymore, and worse, it was a Sunday. She didn’t know many service stations that were open on Sundays.

Anya’s only saving grace this late morning was that the car had died about four blocks away from a service station. Remembering that, she made a decision then and there, and she grabbed her purse, climbed out of the car and headed down the other direction towards the shop. She was so glad she started going to church again. The good Lord had obviously answered her prayers to get her out of this mess.

The service station looked deserted, with the small customer service desk and waiting room both empty. No customers were waiting around, and there didn't appear to be anyone working there. The garage bays were all open, but the sign on the front door read ‘Closed’. Anya sighed tiredly. She was so screwed. She’d walked all this way down, in her heels and her sundress, for nothing. How the heck was she getting home today? And what was she going to do with her car? 

 A deep voice sounded seemingly out of nowhere, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. "Can I help you, Miss?"

Startled, Anya spun towards the service bay, and on seeing the owner of the voice, her jaw slackened. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. The man standing in front of Anya looked like a GQ model. Tall as hell, light-skinned with long dark hair, large, muscular arms, and the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His white t-shirt was thin and smeared with grease along with his arms and one side of his face, and his jeans were worn and streaked as well, but the only served to make him look sexier than he already clearly was.

Holy shit.  

"Miss?" he said, startling Anya from her trance. His eyes bored through hers, and a knowing smile had formed on his face. She could tell right away that he was used to women staring at him, and he was clearly enjoying the attention. Anya wanted to smack herself for being so obvious. She didn’t mean to stare, but man… "Oh, I'm sorry," she tried to recover, focusing on his eyes so her own wouldn’t wander down his body again. "My car’s engine just died a couple of blocks from here. You work here, right? Please tell me you’re open today."  

The tall glass of water nodded with a smile. "You’re in luck, Miss. We’re open for the next three hours or so. I can go get the wrecker around back so we can pick up your car. Wanna come along for the ride?"  

“Sure!” Anya blurted out, and then cringed inwardly for sounding so eager. If he noticed, he ignored it, merely laughing and leading her around to the back of the station to the tow truck. As he helped her climb in, she said, “You’re a life saver. I had no idea how I was gonna get my car home.”  

“Like I said, you’re in luck,” the hottie said, “We actually don’t open on Sundays. I was just there to catch up on some work.” He glanced over in her direction for a brief moment. “I’m Roman, by the way.”

Roman. Quite apropos, as he looked a hella lot like the Roman gods of that era. “Anya. Nice to meet you,” she replied.

“Anya. That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented her with a dazzling smile, and Anya felt herself get warm all over. They got to her car, and she watched him load it onto the wrecker, observing how his muscles rippled the whole time as he worked. Once they got back to the station, he off-loaded the car into the nearest service bay. He opened the front door, popped the hood, and then went to the front of the car, looking under the hood to evaluate the problem. Anya stood by, staring at his fine, firm-looking ass as he bent over the front of the car.  

"Well, it looks like the car got a little overheated,” Roman assessed, his eyes still on the engine. “But it don’t look too badly damaged. I can get the car fixed in about an hour, two tops," he added, lifting his head to look at her. “Is that alright?”

Anya sighed with relief. “Of course. Oh thank God. That’s good news for sure.”

"Glad to hear,” said Roman. “Would you like a drink while you wait? Juice? Soda? Water? It’ll be on the house," he offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I just really wanna get this car issue sorted out as quick as possible.”

Roman smiled. “I understand. You probably got somewhere to be, maybe a date or something.”

Anya shook her head. “No, no date,” she clarified, feeling her face warm slightly. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Wow, that’s a surprise. I expected a beautiful woman like yourself would have guys tripping over themselves to get to know you.” His comment caught her completely off guard, and the look he gave her as he eyed her from head to toe sent a tingle down her spine, all the way down to the spot between her legs that had been smoldering ever since she first laid eyes on him. Would it be so forward if she told him she wanted to get to know him, in a far less appropriate, far more intimate way than he suggested? She chose to keep her mouth shut, only offering him a sweet smile in response.

The silence began to grow awkward, and Roman cleared his throat. “So, uh, how about you take a seat in our waiting room while I get started?” 

“Sounds good.”

Neither moved. The two continued to gaze at each other, and Anya felt a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach as she sensed the tension building between them. He would be doing much more than fixing her car if she didn't get out of here and let him do his job. She made her way to the waiting room and sat down, playing with her phone while her car was being repaired. From her vantage point, she could see Roman working. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, so she didn’t worry too much about her car. She would also occasionally look over at the man himself. She wasn’t in a relationship, so she had free reign to stare all she wanted. She didn’t think he was taken either, at least he didn’t give off that kind of vibe. He was so damn gorgeous though. His muscles, his hair, the big hands…she liked big hands. A lot. She guessed he was Polynesian, judging from his exotic features and the style of the tattoo that adorned his right arm. His t-shirt rode up a little, giving her a glimpse of the black briefs covering up that ass, and she imagined how firm they would feel in her hands. Feeling flushed, she shook away the naughty thoughts and concentrated on her phone.

After an hour had passed with no update on the progress of her car, she decided to go and check in on the mechanic. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Roman turned around, his eyes briefly flickering down to her legs as she approached him. “I think I’m done, actually,” he stated, ducking from under the hood and grabbing a clean napkin on the worktable next to him. “Wanna take a look?”

He watched Anya step forward to take a look inside the hood, placing herself at the center of the engine, and he felt himself get hard as he admired the view. The position left her bent at the waist, causing the hem of her short sundress to inch higher and further expose off her bare legs, which looked fantastic in those heels. He’d only met her a couple of hours earlier, but he’d felt the electricity crackle between them from the jump and it still simmered now. Anya was gorgeous, sexy, with a delectable body that made him want to unleash his inner beast and do unspeakable things to her. He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, and he sensed from their interaction that the feeling was mutual. 

"I’m not sure what I’m looking at, to be honest. I’m terrible with cars," Anya was saying, still looking inside the hood. She had deliberately positioned herself this way, with her back to him and bent over, for Roman’s benefit. She could feel the warm morning breeze against the backs of her legs, and she could feel his eyes locked on her. Her ass was pretty much in his face, basically giving him an all access pass to her goodies. She secretly hoped that he would take the hint and take advantage.  

Then she felt it. His large, warm hand curling over her hip. Anya closed her eyes, drinking in the feeling of the stranger's touch. It lingered in the silence of the moment, as if asking for permission to go further. When she gave no objection, his hand gently slid over her belly, while his other hand made its way up her dress simultaneously. She gasped as his body pressed against hers from behind, and the first thing she felt was his erection, alert and pressing persistently against her backside. The hand in her dress made slow, deliberate circles over her thigh, and she found herself silently begging for his hands to be more daring, to touch her more intimately than he was allowing himself to. She grabbed the top of the hood with one hand as he wedged his thigh between her legs and pressed himself more earnestly against her. His breath was warm on her neck, and Anya gasped again as his mouth met the base of her throat, his tongue darting out to lick the patch of skin there. 

“Tell me to stop, Anya,” Roman growled low, lips dangerously close to hers, and she shivered in his arms. His mouth then shifted to her ear as his hand continued its voyage of her inner thigh. "Tell me to stop, and I'll back off, let you pay for the repairs and leave my shop. But if you don't, I'm gonna fuck you right here on your car, and I won’t stop until you’re coming so hard you’ll be seeing stars."

Anya gave a breathy moan as she rolled her ass into his crotch, craving every inch of what she felt there. "Oh, Roman…Don't you dare stop."

She heard his low moan, felt his lips brush over her neck one more time. Placing his fingers underneath her chin, he guided her face up to his, scooping her lips in a carnal, searing kiss that almost brought her to her knees. Fuck, he tasted so good, a delicious mix of mint and man that she would never forget. She wasn’t sure how long their passionate kissing went on for, but it wasn’t long enough.  Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees behind her. Both his hands were up her dress now, sliding along her upper thighs and over her hips. Anya tried to remain silent, her eyes squeezing shut as he continued to caress her, but when his large palms swept over the curve of her ass and brushed over her heated core, she let out a whimper of pleasure. 

“Shut the hood and lean forwards,” Roman ordered, waiting for Anya to comply. Satisfied that he had her under his complete control, he began kneading the rounded globes of her ass, exploring the softness of her flesh, which was a rather sensual contrast to his workman hands. She shifted her weight back enough to spread her legs slightly, giving more access for his assault on her body. She felt him push her dress up to her back, felt his hot breath on her skin, his lips pressed briefly on her ass as his fingers crept even closer to her most intimate spot. Roman then hooked his index finger around the tiny fabric of her lace panties, pulling it aside, and without warning, he shoved a finger into her wetness, sending shockwaves through her.

"Ahhhh," was all that came out of Anya’s mouth. She pushed her hips back against his hand, helping him guide his fingers inside her . Still on his knees, Roman used his fingers to rub up and down the length of her slit, coating the digits with her wetness. Anya cried out as he then plunged deeper into her depths. She braced her hands on the hood of her car as she rolled her hips over and over, riding his fingers. Just as she was approaching ecstasy, nearing the edge of complete euphoria, Roman pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her hollow and empty.

“What the fuck,” she panted, glaring with frustration at him over her shoulder as he stood up, a smirk on his face that Anya would have considered obnoxious if she didn’t find him so fucking sexy.

Roman locked eyes with her as he licked each of his fingers. “Don’t worry baby, we ain’t done.” He pulled off his shirt and flung it aside, and Anya’s mouth watered at the sight of him. His tattoo climbed up his arm all the way past his shoulders and over his pectoral muscle. She helped him get rid of her dress, and she blushed at the look in his eyes as they raked over her body. He moved forwards until she was sat on the hood, and he reached up to caress her breasts through her bra. He dipped his head to kiss her again, teasing her with his tongue as he explored her taste. Anya groaned as he molded and kneaded her breasts, and she returned the favor by unbuttoning his jeans and promptly sliding her hand inside. She stroked his dick through the briefs, giving him a firm squeeze and pumping him. Roman groaned at her touch, and he pushed her hands away and scooped her up, setting her on the hood of her car.

Anya leaned back on her elbows as she watched him yank down his jeans and boxers at the same time, standing before her in all his naked glory. He had a body she'd only fantasized about, including the thick shaft that stood erect and ready for her. She wanted to touch him so bad, taste him, to slide her tongue over that big dick, to push that throbbing erection into her mouth and down her throat. Her eyes lifted to his, seeing in his brown irises every bit of the desire and hunger that she was feeling.

Roman let his fingers curl through the lace panties she was wearing, and she happily tilted her hips for him to pull them off her. He blindly tossed the underwear over his shoulder as she spread her legs wider, exposing her glistening, swollen flesh to his hungry eyes. Shit. She was so wet, so appetizing. All he wanted to do was lower his mouth onto those swollen pussy lips, to lick and eat her until her eyes rolled back, but right now, it was more important to be inside her than anything else.

Her dark, dazed eyes met his as he leaned over her, one hand on either side of her, flat on the hood. She reached out and pressed her hands to his chest and abs, licking her lips hungrily as she caressed him. She groaned as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, feeling his hand wind behind her back to unclip her bra. Throwing it aside, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, ducking down to suckle on one nipple, then the other. Anya's hands slid into his long, silky hair as he feasted on her breasts. His dick brushed her thigh as he leaned over her and she felt a shudder in her loins. She needed him inside her so badly. Her head falling back, she moaned and squirmed under him, making his erection slide up and down the inside of her thigh, pleasuring her just as much as his mouth on her breasts. 

Roman finally lifted his head, loving the way her nipples puckered from his sucking. His dick ached for her and he was finding it more difficult to hold himself. He gave her left nipple a quick bite that had her gasping. "Spread your legs a little wider," he told her, his tone matching the way his body pulsed with need. He stepped up between her legs, a big hand already on his cock, stroking himself as he aimed for her swollen slit. “You ready for me, baby?”

"Yes..." she answered, watching intently as his head pressed into her pussy, and she threw her head back as she felt the first stretch of her muscles around his thickness. "Oh fuck, Roman..." Her moan trailed off as he slowly pushed himself into her, stretching, filling, overwhelming her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Her legs curled around his waist, and his calloused palms were on her ass, lifting her against him so he could push deeper, penetrate her to the hilt. It was like she was made just for him, the way she accommodated every inch of his length, the way she throbbed around him, the heat and pleasure that submerged him and made him quiver for more. Her pussy wrapped so tightly around him he wasn't sure he could breathe. The sensation of her inner muscles rippling against his thickness was incredible, and he hadn’t even started fucking her yet. Growling under his breath, he drew his cock back and thrust into her. Hard. Noting the way the pleasure flooded her features, he did it again, and again, until he’d established a sweet, sensual rhythm. Each stroke had her gasping for breath, her full lips parted open and causing pleasure to flood through him. It wasn’t long before he picked up the pace. “Damn, your pussy’s fuckin’ drippin’, baby,” Roman commented, pushing up on her as he thrust harder into her. “So fuckin’ tight too. Fuck.” 

A gasping Anya wrapped her hands around his biceps and tried to keep her eyes on him, but she couldn’t, not with the delicious precision with which he hit her sweet spot. Even as she moaned, he leaned forwards and bore down on her, his hands locked over her shoulders, holding her still while he hammered white-hot pleasure into her body. He would pause to roll his hips, burying his dick inside her, then he would accelerate again, battering her pussy with the force of his thrusts, and she cried out again and again. “Yes, yes Roman, fuck me,” she moaned, her hands dragging down his back to clutch his ass. It felt as firm as she imagined it to be, and she scraped her fingernails over the taut skin, enjoying the way the muscles clenched and unclenched beneath her palms with every thrust of his hips.

Grunting, Roman shifted her legs up to his shoulders. Sharp breaths escaped them both as he fucked her with reckless abandon on the hood of her car. All he wanted was more, more of her body, more of her warm, soaked pussy, and he was determined to get it all.

“Fuck, I’m comin’ baby,” Anya whined, her legs starting to tremble as her pussy clamped around his dick. “Fuck, I’ma come all over this dick.”

“Yes, baby girl. Come on my dick,” Roman rasped, grabbing her legs from his shoulders and spreading them far apart as he kept up his relentless tempo. He groaned as the blood surged to his groin and he swelled inside her. He looked on with triumph as Anya’s eyes widened, and suddenly she screamed, her body arching, her legs shaking as she came apart around him. He sensed his own orgasm impending even when her inner muscles started to relax, and he couldn’t control himself when it did. He moaned loudly as his balls clenched and his dick throbbed and pulsed inside her. He fell on top of her, pinning her to her car as he emptied into her. Anya shuddered when he went limp on top of her, her hands stroking his back, her other fingers curling in his hair. When he was finally able to catch his breath, Roman shifted back, both of them moaning as his drained dick slid out of her. He held himself up on his arms as he observed her, taking in her flushed, satisfied face, her kiss-swollen lips and disheveled hair. She looked damn beautiful, and it was a sight he didn’t mind seeing every day. "You alright, darlin?" he drawled. 

Anya returned the smile, licking her lips as her pussy still pulsed from the incredible pleasure. "I’m good. Very good," she murmured, "Hell of a service you just rendered. Does it come with the repairs?" she asked with a wink.  

Chuckling, Roman picked his briefs and his jeans off the floor and put them back on. "Nope, it’s part of a very exclusive package. One that you, baby girl, are free to enjoy whenever you want." It was his turn to wink.

Anya giggled at his reply. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, sitting up as Roman handed her dress to her. She reached for her discarded underwear but he grabbed them before she did and held them up in the air. “Um, those are mine,” she told him, her eyebrow raised.

To her surprise, Roman shook his head and tucked the tiny scrap of lingerie into his back pocket. “Not anymore, baby,” he growled, “You want ‘em back, you know where to find ‘em.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a future invite, handsome.” She hoped this was the case.

“I guess it is.” He shrugged, and his deep voice sounded casual, but his smoldering gaze held more intent than his words did.

Anya couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Luckily, she didn’t live too far away from the service station, so she would have no problem finding him again. “We’ll see.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, running her tongue beneath his top lip. Then, she slid off the car and sank to her knees, her gaze filled with mischief as she pulled his jeans back down. "Now, let’s see about paying for my car, shall we?"

THE END.

TAGGING:

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#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #the mechanic

[illiana-mystery]

His sh*t eating grin gives me life.

#ooh boy #hee hee hee #goddamn son #why is he so sexy #hottie alert #sexy af #doc ock #doctor octavius #doctor octopus #dr. otto octavius #otto octavius #spiderman 2 #my sweet alfredo #my heart #❤️❤️❤️❤️ #alfred molina

[illiana-mystery]

Goddamn, Bob. You fine as hell. 😍

#what a hottie #hottie alert #sexy ass mf #goddamn sir #sir 🥵🥵🥵 #hubba hubba #woof woof bark bark #robert aldrich #feud (2017) #my sweet alfredo #my heart #❤️❤️❤️❤️ #alfred molina

[illiana-mystery]

Every Time Fred was a Government Official

#ooh boy #hottie alert #just a bunch of hotties over here #goddamn son #hank spallone #show me a hero #harvey torriti #the company (2007) #frank burton #abduction #harold lindsey jones #close to the enemy #my sweet alfredo #my heart #❤️❤️❤️❤️ #alfred molina #every time series

[illiana-mystery]

I think @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky put it best when they said that this picture gave them substitute teacher you'd like to fuck vibes

#right #we're right #right? #goddamn #now this is a nice picture #jfc #hottie alert #sir 🥵🥵🥵 #who gave you the right #to be this damn gorgeous #ooh boy #willem dafoe

[illiana-mystery]

I love this photo so much, I just had to color it. I just had to.

#my goodness #he's so 🥵🥵🥵 #bruh #sir 👀👀👀👀 #hottie alert #like goddamn #i need a cold shower now #he looks so gorgeous here #🤤🤤🤤 #my blue eyed short king #willem dafoe

[illiana-mystery]

Is it hot in here or is it just him?!

#goddamn sir #bruh 😮‍💨 #damn son #hottie alert #i love this movie #because he was serving all the looks #im so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #sexy mf #eric masters #to live and die in l.a. #my blue eyed short king #willem dafoe