#if you’re too old sell the apartments fucking god damn

[kaleighkarma]

I did a public speaking thing today about rent control and I didn’t cry! Someone said they liked my speech because I mentioned how raises weren’t at inflation if you even get one so I felt better!

#talking #actually literal talking lmao #I’m proud of myself #also fuck that one land lord who charges his INLAWS #he literally said if rent was capped at inflation he would have had to kick is fucking in-laws out?!? #and fuck that other guy who said he owned *just* 2 3 stacks and couldn’t afford to do the home improvements himself because he’s old #bro that is 6 units you make enough fucking money #if you’re too old sell the apartments fucking god damn #fuck landlords #all my homies HATE landlords #anyways it’s important to go to your local council and talk because then they know what the people want #and you can’t let the scumlords win #vomiting over the one guy who said I’m one of the good ones #no sir you took a human right away from people and sell it back at a higher price #he fought a woman who said the boiler should not be on the renter that’s why they rent #and he said that was not true #shout out to her though she tore than man a new asshole #she said if housing is an investment then you should be able to fail like any other free market #she really said fuck you in the most insanely polite way I love her #anyways I didn’t cry #I’m proud of me #if you made it this far I’m giving you a smooch on the forehead

[insaneillusionist]

Here’s my uncut, unedited live reaction to the episode.

“Papa Titan”

WHAT THE SHIT

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING SHIT

WAIT HE HAS FUCKING STATUES OF HIMSELF IN HIS CASTLE?

HOW VAIN IS HE?

WAIT SHIT IS THIS AN AU?

LOOK AT THE WINDOW!

OH ALSO TRAUMA CAUSE SHE NEARLY DIED DOWN THERE

OH MY GOSH SHE CALLS FOR LILITH FIRST! AND THEN HOOTY! HE REALLY IS PART OF THE FAMILY.

SHE’S WEARING HER OLD OUTFIT!

AND SHE DYED HER HAIR BACK!

I HAVE MISSED HER AS AN ANTAGONIST!

ALSO WOW HER BODY LANGUAGE AND TONE CHANGED A LOT! LOVE THIS SUBTLE SHIT!

Love how none of them have lights in their eyes.

(It’s because Luz isn’t there.)

OH SHIT RETURN OF THE DADDY ISSUES!

(I wonder if Luz doesn’t have Eda and King because of magic, because she knows they wouldn’t fight her, or because she thinks she already hurt them.)

OH SHIT VILLAIN!WILLOW

Oh okay good. I thought they were retconning stuff

(Luz reading OOC fanfic)

OH MY GOD LOVE THE HEXSQUAD

ALSO THAT GIANT FUCKING NERD ALREADY SOLVED THE RUBIK’S CUBE

YES! GLOMP HER!

THEY’RE A FAMILY!!!

RAYRAY?

OH SHIT WE’RE GETTING INTO THE PURITAN STUFF!

COLLECTOR IS JUST A BABY BOY!

OKAY LOOK DAMN THE MANIPULATION IS FINE THAT SHIT WOULD WORK ON ME TOO.

ALSO COLLECTOR LOVES TITANS!

AND BELOS THOUGHT KING WAS A DOG LMFAO!

ALSO YES THE I CAN’T SAVE THEM SO I’L PURGE THEM!

FAMILY BONDING OVER TRAUMA TIME!

GROUP THERAPY? NO! CUT PUT THE MIDDLE MAN AND JUST CRY WITH EACH OTHER!

OWLBERT IS ALIVE!

Sad. Collector’s just trying their best, but it isn’t working. I mean l get it, but I hope people instill some morals in him. They must learn right from wrong.

HE BEHEADED HIMSELF LMFAO.

Also, that explains it. He views everyone else as lesser beings, except for King.

LOVE THE SMILE!

RAINE WE WILL GET YOU SOME HOT CHOCOLATE! COME JOIN THE TRAUMA CIRCLE!

Oh hey Collector took King’s words to heart!

Crying “why are you hitting yourself”

God I want a you’re trapped in here with me thing

OH THAT PERSON WAS AMITY!

Also, I retract my previous statement.

RETURN OF HIS THEME SONG!

KING THE HAMSTER!

Poor Collector, getting bullied.

OH MY GOD THEY HAVE A TRAGIC BACKSTORY

COLLECTOR’S JUST A KID.

ALSO LMAO BELOS GET WRECKED YOU AIN’T SLICK CAN’T FUCKING SKATEBOARD YOUR CLOAK WOULD GET CAUGHT IN THE WHEELS ANYWAY.

CRYING. RAINE THE LANDLORD!

BELOS GOT EVICTED!

GOING FROM AN APARTMENT TO A PENTHOUSE SUITE.

BELOS STILL HAS SIBLING TRAITS. FUCKING BIT RAINE.

RAINE BABY IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT

This looks like Elsa freezing the castle.

AMITY FINALLY INTERACTS WITH LILITH!

THE BIRD HOUSE LMAO

WAIT WHAT? I NEED TO SEE THE CLAWTHORNES TRY DIFFERENT SPORTS NOW!

NO BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL!

Aww he remembers Lilith’s name!

THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, TINY NOSE! KARMA FOR EPISODE 4!

Wait did they just stay in the fucking caves?

BELOS YOU ARE DESTROYING AN ECOSYSTEM. MULTIPLE, ACTUALLY.

ANGEL/DRAGON FORM!

Belos you already tried.

WAIT. IF BELOS THINKS THIS PLACE IS PERDITION, HE WAS SENT TO PERDITION HIMSELF. GET FUCKED.

Oh shit he got Pokémon powers.

I’M CRYING THE BABY IS DOING HIS BEST.

I’M SORRY THEIR REACTION IS AN ABSOLUTE MEME.

OH SHIT OH SHIT

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

SHE HAS TO BE FINE BUT WHAT THE HELL?

YOU CAN SEE THE FUCKING GLYPHS ON THE SHIELD! TITAN MAGIC INDEED!

ALSO OUCH THAT SHOT OF CAMILA! (Gonna have to draw more so I can work on my art skills.)

Speaking of my art skills, WHERE IS HOOTY?

IT’S THE IN-BETWEEN!

When you come up with a perfect response five minutes later (but you’re also dead)

GROM CALLBACK!

Eda’s going to brag about how the literal Titan joined her coven

SO MANY CALLBACKS!

(I need to see the Titan reacting to shit now. Entire spin-off. Let’s do it. Replace the owls and let him react.)

HE’S SUCH AN ABSENT PRESENT FATHER HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO BESIDES WATCH

ALSO EDA JUST SELLS STUFF AND SAYS THAT IT’S TITAN-ENDORSED (or well, endorsed by two Titans.)

BILE DRAIN IS REAL?

HE’S A BABY!

Princess Ivy-core shit right there.

HOLY SHIT I HAVE SO MUCH GENDER ENVY RIGHT NOW!

Eda looks so fucking derpy

OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT

MAKES ME SO FUCKING EMOTIONAL

THEY’RE A FAMILY AND I LOVE THEM AND I WOULD PROTECT THEM WITH MY LIFE (not that they need protection at this point)

AYO THEY SOLVED THE PROBLEM OF MAKING A CIRCLE BIG ENOUGH TO END BELOS’ REIGN

OKAY THAT IS A SICK BACKGROUND

SO MANY CALLBACKS

Okay that’s so funny

Admit it she’s hot

Also RIP THE ANIMATION BUDGET THIS IS GOLD!

OH SHIT SHE LOVES HERSELF LET’S GO!

IT’S THE THEME SONG!

HE’S STILL A MANIPULATOR!

RETURN OF THE BEARD!

I’M SORRY THIS IS HILARIOUS HOW HE’S HUMAN NOW.

RIP BLONDELOS.

THE FUCKING BOILING RAIN.

GET FUCKED - SINCERELY, THE TITAN

AYO WE SAW HIS NON-FUCKED UP SHOULDER

CATHARSIS!

NO HER HAIR! (Just saying since she wanted to grow it out and she suddenly lost it.)

AWW! THAT’S SO SWEET!

YES THE SPIN HUG!

Odalia just in the corner.

THE KISS THEY KISSED!

DARIUS AND EBERWOLF!

BUMP, WITH HIS MAGNIFICENT HAIR!

VITIMIR TOO?

THE GREEN UNIFORM!

(I bet the pants have pockets and that’s why Steve still wears them)

How did a Collector and Lilith interaction go? (Also is her hood acting as a blindfold?)

More kisses! (Camila looking at the camera trying to keep it private.)

MORE SPIN HUGS!

HOOTY! (Oh damn he has nice eyelashes.)

Oh. The Collector’s leaving. (I don’t think the Archivists will help him grow up, but whatever.)

WHAT NO LUZ I’M SORRY

OH BUT SHE’S FOUND HWR PLACE NOW

(DANA AWARDED LUZ HER FUCKING SCHOLARSHIP?)

YES YES THANK GOD BABY!

KNEW IT!

ALSO AYO VEE!

AWW THEY REALLY DID FIX IT UP!

BRAXAS IS MULTITRACKING!

FLAPJACK GOT A GRAVESTONE!

HUNTER HAS A BLUE JAY NOW?

OKAY LILITH HAS THE DRIP! (AND SHE HAS EARRINGS NOW!)

(Okay I did not expect them to be cool with each other.)

SHE HAS A HARPY FORM!

RAINE WITH SCARS!

ALSO THEY FIGURED OUT HOW TO REMOVE SIGILS!

RAINE HAS A PALISMAN!

WAIT EDA’S A PRINCIPAL?

(Captain Hook drip.)

THEY SWAPPED EARRINGS! (Choosing to believe that’s how they got married.)

AWW!

OH MY GOSH THEY’RE SO CUTE!

(For the record, I did not cry.)

#the owl house #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #I personally am not a fan of snapshots to the future but this was really sweet!

[f1nalboys]

ridiculously horny request, reader who does the sinclair's chores doing some laundry and being overheard/interrupted by vincent while masturbating with the vibrations from the clunky old washing machine and one of his sweaters while moaning his name, maybe actual sex ensues but i will leave that to you.

haven't been able to not think about this req since i got it LMFAO it didn't delve into actual sex but it hints at it, i hope that's alright!! but i hope you love this >:)))

Vincent Sinclair x GN!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1521

WARNINGS: nsfw, masturbation vid washing machine, masturbation (afab), voyeurism, vincent watches while reader masturbates, implication of more sex, not proofread

The washing machine was a piece of junk. It barely fucking worked and when it did, it made the most awful sound and clunked aorund, practically shaking the house off the damn foundation. You’ve given up on asking Bo to fix it; he’s made it very clear that he ‘doesn’t give a damn about the shittin’ machine, it’s still workin’ aint it?” Prick. You sigh, shoving another load into the rusted machine, slamming it closed and hitting your hip into the door just to make sure it was really closed.

“Piece of fucking junk,” You mutter under your breath as you start the machine up, waiting for it to start up. The sound of it starting the cycle has you flinching at the grinding sound. You start to unload the dryer of the clothing, a mix of Bo and Vincent’s attire, into the laundry basket when your mind starts to wander.

The washing machine was shaking violently, your feet vibrating from the close proximity on the floor. Glancing around the small room and peeking your head into the hallway, you double check that you were alone. You didn’t want to be interrupted during this. Kicking off your shoes and pulling your shorts down you lift yourself onto the washing machine carefully, perching on the edge, before jumping back off and grabbing one of Vincent’s sweaters from the laundry pile.

Even after going through the washer and dryer, his smell still clung to it as if it were etched into the fabric. You hold it to your nose and breathe in deeply, sighing. Vincent had always been apart of your fantasies and now that you had some of his clothing you could really bring your imagination to fruition. Hopping back up onto the machine you settle back, clutching his sweater close to your face.

“Fuck,” You moan as the vibrations shoot through you. You can feel your underwear beginning to grow wet and you sigh, your body relaxing almost immediately. You’ve been so fucking stressed lately, barely having time to sleep let alone pleasure yourself and both Vincent and Bo up your ass 24/7 you had no alone time. But Bo was busy in the garage fixing up an old victim's car to sell and Vincent was in the basement doing whatever it is he does when there isn’t a person to encase.

Swallowing back a moan, your eyes flutter shut and you begin to rock your hips in time with the machine, apply pressure against your clit from the cold steel with each forward thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer, it’s been too damn long since you’ve been able to do something like this.

A sharp knock at the door has your eyes popping open and gasping, your body still. Vincent stood in the doorway, his mask off and a clear smirk on his face. “Jesus! Vincent, what the fuck?! How… How long have you been standing there?” You ask, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment and you scoot off of the machine, grabbing your shorts.

“Look at me.” Vincent’s voice was hoarse and sharp and it had you standing straight and looking at him, giving him your full attention. Your shorts were still clasped in your hands and your heart was beating a mile a fucking minute. He starts to sign, slowly, his eyes narrowed. “I was there long enough to know you were close. Don’t let me stop you.”

You scoff though the anger didn’t quite reach it. “M’not- Fuck sake, Vincent. I mean, God, that’s so… you can’t just…”

“You’re the one getting off on the washing machine holding my sweater, not me.” His smile grew slightly at your shocked gasp. “Why don’t you get back up there and finish? I know you’ve been dying too lately, could practically smell the want coming from you and clearly you were thinking about me while you were doing it..”

“What, so you want me to just… get back to it after you leave?”

Vincent shakes his head and steps inside the room, closing the door behind him. The laundry room is small and if you take a step forward you’d be chest to chest with him. “No. I want to watch.” You scoff; what an asshole move to fuck with you like that. He snaps, grabbing your attention again, and his face is set in stone. “I’m serious.”

“Why? Why do you even… when did you…?” Words were failing you. You’ve had a crush on Vincent for god knows how long and you weren’t sure when he figured it out. Maybe you hadn’t been as secretive as you had thought you were, or perhaps Bo had said something to him. That’s definitely something the asshole would do.

“I’ll answer your questions after you finish. Please?”

“...Fine. I swear to god if you’re fucking with me…”

You drop your shorts again and shuffle back to the washing machine and sit yourself back on top of it. You were silently thankful you had decided to do a longer cycle this time. Biting back another moan, you settle back, much stiffer than you had been before and Vincent sighs, leaning back against the door, his arms folded over his chest.

“Relax. You’re too stiff, you’ll never finish like that.” You roll your eyes at the advice but ultimately, you know he’s right. You’re not sure if your heart is beating so fast from embarrassment of being caught or arousal from being watched. That’s something to figure out later.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and force your muscles to relax one by one. “Mmm…” You sigh as the pleasure begins to build in your stomach again, the vibrations building in intensity with each passing second. “Vincent- '' Your eyes snap open; you did not mean to moan his name. If you were by yourself, maybe you would have let the name slip by without thinking about it, but in front of him? How many times would you fuck up tonight?

“Say it again.” His hands are moving quickly now and the second he’s done talking to you his hands drop down to his crotch and you watch with wide eyes as he palms himself over his jeans.

You can’t even think of the amount of times you’ve thought about this exact scenario before but fuck, there was no way you were going to miss the sight in front of you. “V… Vincent, shit.” The words flow easily from you now. This wasn’t a cruel prank set up by one of the twins. This was happening, really fucking happening, and it was almost too much for you. “God, feels so good. M’so close already, fuck.”

Vincent unzips his jeans and pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to expose his cock for you. His shirt had risen up, exposing the line of hair that grew thicker and darker as it went down his stomach. His cock was half hard and he started to stroke himself to the sight of you, legs spread on the washing machine, showing off your fully soaked underwear for him.

You start to rock your hips again as the coil in your stomach returns 10 times stronger now and you’re starting to have trouble breathing. “F-fuck! Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Vince. Please, please, god I’m-” You cum, your toes curling and thighs shaking. Vincent’s breathing had picked up, filling the room along with your moans and the shake of the washing machine. You nearly fall off the machine when the vibrations become too much, your knees weak.

Grabbing a hold of the steel, you spare a glance at Vincent. His hand was still on his cock but he had stopped stroking himself. His hands leave his length and he stares at you, signing. “Go to my room. I need to taste you.” He didn’t need to tell you twice and you snatch your shorts up off of the floor and you walk past him, ‘accidentally’ brushing your hand across his cock as you open the door, only to come face to face with Bo.

He had a scowl on his face and it only grew when he realized you were half naked and Vincent was inside the room as well, shoving himself back into his pants. “You can’t just do the laundry without sexin’ the damn place up? Keep that shit to your bedroom, Vince, or else I’m makin’ you two deep clean the fuckin’ place. Is my laundry done?”

“Yeah…”

“Christ, took long enough. Both of yous get the hell outta there so I can get some clothes ‘fore I take a shower. And try to keep it down, I got a headache and I really don’t wanna hear you two fuckin’.” You give him a curt nod and practically sprint down the hallway to Vincent’s room. Bo stops Vincent and claps him on the back with a grin. “Finally got the balls to talk to ‘em, aye?”

Vincent flips Bo off and shuffles off after you, his thoughts drifting to how you’d taste on his tongue and how you’d feel around his cock.

#thirsting4slashers answers #thirsting4slashers writing #thirsting4slashers works #thirsting4slashers masterlist #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent x reader #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher headcanon #slasher oneshot #slasher fic #slasher x y/n

[ezgithechaotic]

pushing up the dasies . peter parker

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x female reader

summary: Someone has been stealing Y\N's flowers, and she is determined to find who it is.

warnings: she\ her pronouns (don't know if this one's a warning), mention of the death of a loved person, graveyard

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. I really have no idea if this is good or trash. I’m getting mixed signs. So, please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

As a comic book nerd, I personally love both Andrew and Tom's Spiderman. Just thought this story fit Andrew's more, but feel free to imagine Peter as your favorite! 

masterlist 

The first time you realized a few flowers were picked from your garden, you didn't think much into it. The kids around the neighborhood liked to play hide and seek around your garden. You thought; it should be Thompson's girl, she likes flowers. It wasn't something that never happened before. You would simply plant new ones, it was no big deal, you could never get angry at children. But after some time, you started to realize the pattern. Every month on the same day, you found a handful of your daisies gone upon returning from your part-time job. Mrs. Thompson swore her daughter would never do such a thing without asking, and after the third time, you were sure somebody was stealing your flowers. Maybe it was that gruff man across the street that never got along with people. But you had a feeling if he had to do anything with your flowers, it would only be blowing them up. 

Peter always wondered whom the pretty flowers and house belong to. The post box just outside the garden said Y\L\N, and he had always imagined an old sweet woman lived in the white-painted house with a green door. And Peter hoped he didn't make the poor woman too sad with missing flowers. Boy, was he wrong. You weren't old, and you were furious and determined to find the person who stole your beautiful daisies. 

Your friends always wondered why you liked living in such an old neighborhood. The house was one of the few things your mother left you after she died, along with the considerable amount of money in your bank account. You could always sell the house, find an apartment downtown, so you can be closer to school that's what your friends told you every time you had them over. But you loved the house. You loved that the house held so many memories of your childhood, especially your garden. Even though your mother was a busy woman, she had always made time for you and her flowers. At the age of six, growing flowers with your mother quickly became one of your favorite pastimes. That week you did what everyone would do, changed your shift with Mary Jane to catch the flower thief. 

So, no, selling the house or letting strangers steal your lovely flowers was not one of the many choices. 

Now, Peter Parker was many things, but not a thief. Well, it depended on what you would call stealing. Surely picking a few flowers from a random garden couldn't count as stealing. And God knows he wouldn't do it if he weren't penniless. Trying to survive college and paying for an apartment didn't leave him much. The money The Daily Bugle paid was shit. He had been selling photos for the damn newspaper since high school, but it was no use, Peter had to find a job that paid more than The Daily Bugle. And there was no way he was going to ask Aunt May for money, even though she would be happy to give him some. But that was another day's concern, for now, the only thing he needed to do was be quick. Because he knew if you found out that it was him who was stealing, sorry picking, your flowers he sure wouldn't be able to swing away this time. 

Peter honestly felt guilty about your flowers, they were lovely. And he knew this was a safe neighborhood, so he had no way of paying you back with saving you. He had been visiting Gwen every month since her death. It was one of the few things he could keep up with after he graduated high school. Daisies were Gwen's favorite. Peter knew he could easily find another place to pick the flowers, but he believed that there was something magical about the garden. He felt so much love around the house. Maybe it was a silly thing, but Peter thought Gwen would have loved that garden. 

Y\N had been sitting on her porch, hiding behind the dark blue armchair, actually too anxious to face the flower thief. You felt childish after some time. It was just a few daisies, right? There was no need to act like a crazy woman. As you were getting ready to go back inside, you saw him. He had an average height, brown messy hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned baby blue shirt with a greenish-brown jacket. Y\N's anger turned back the minute she saw him touch the flowers. 

"You, flower thief!" 

A moment before, Peter felt like his whole body was on edge as if bells were ringing in his brain. But he was already late to realize she had been waiting for him and there was no way to run, he wasn't wearing his suit. Where were the damn spider-senses when he needed them the most? So, he just stood there, speechless, his hand hanged above the daisies. She was pretty, as pretty as the flowers before him. Guilt heating his face, Peter couldn't help but stare at you with his eyes wide open like a dumbstruck idiot. He felt like his lunch was climbing its way back up. 

You were now, standing few steps away from him. "You've been stealing my flowers for months!" 

Peter held his hands up in defense. "Look, I can explain." 

Y\N put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. Your heart beating like crazy. Even though it was still bright and you were in the middle of a road, he was a man. A man taller and despite looking skinny, stronger than you. But you hold your face as still as you could.  

"Go on then." 

Peter couldn't find the words to explain. What was he going to say? Sorry, I thought my dead girlfriend would love your flowers so, I've been stealing them, I hope you don't try to kill me. No fucking way. His mouth opened and closed few times, making you sigh. You realized the boy wasn't going to give you any answer. He was probably taking them to his girlfriend or boyfriend. 

"Are they pretty?" you asked, dropping your hands. Peter, very confused, kept on staring at her. You rolled your eyes at how silly he was. "The person you're taking my flowers to." Something at the back of your mind hoped he would say they were for his mother. Now that you were closer you could see the sweet hazel color of his eyes. 

"Um-" His hand went up, scratching his neck. "She is." 

She was.

He shuffled through his pants pockets. "I have a photo-" 

"No." You stopped him. "I want to see if she is pretty enough for my daisies." 

"What?" Peter tried to grasp his head around the idea. 

"I want to see her and tell her that her boyfriend is a thief. C'mon." 

"I don't think-"  Peter was getting anxious, now. How was he supposed to tell you that her girlfriend was dead? 

"Of course you don't think." You started walking. "C'mon, now. Take the flowers." 

Peter didn't know what to do so he went with it. What could go wrong, right? 

"I'm sorry," Peter said after some time. "I have no excuse for what I did." 

His head hung low, watching his steps as he walked. He knew he would stutter if he looked at your face. Peter had a habit of getting tongue-tied around pretty girls. And, well, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Mind you, he wasn't even thinking about Gwen anymore, which made him feel kinda guilty. 

"It's okay." You had your hands in the pockets of your jacket. "My life's been boring lately. You were the only exciting thing, I guess." 

"I'm sure you have more exciting things than me." Peter still didn't look at you but you could see him smiling.

"It's Y\N, by the way." You kept your eyes on him. "If you wanted to know the name of a woman you constantly robbed."

He laughed. "Peter, Peter Parker." His eyes finally met yours. It was ridiculous, how easy it was to just look at his face and feel safe even though he was a stranger. His smile grew even more. It was almost contagious, his smile. He had something about him that made you wanted to scream and purr like a cat at the same time. You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, he was making you weak at the knees. So, you pulled your eyes away from him. 

Pull yourself together, woman! He has a girlfriend.

You were too distracted to realize where was Peter taking you until you arrived. It was the same route you took whenever you felt like talking to your mother. Peter and you were standing just outside of the graveyard. Your head whipped around, turning to Peter. He had a soft smile on his face. 

"Peter, I-" 

"It's okay." 

"No, It's not okay." You took a deep breath, pressing your palms into your eyes. "I'm such a dick." 

"No, you were just mad at me." 

You slouched your shoulder, didn't know what to say. What would even one say in this situation?

"C'mon." Peter's warm hand was gently holding your arm, now. "Let's go see her." 

You didn't talk until you arrived at the tombstone. Peter put the flowers in front of it. 

"Daisies were her favorite." He had a sweet look on his face, he put his hands back into his pockets. 

"They were my mother's favorite, too." You murmured, but Peter could hear you perfectly. "I think that's why I overreacted you picking the flowers. I wasn't thinking." 

"Oh, It's not stealing anymore, then?" He teased. "It's okay, honestly. She would've liked you. You have that fire in you like you could make the world better just with a gesture of your hand. She liked that kind of people, that can light the room with their smile." 

"I think I would've liked her, too." You said, your eyes on the tombstone.

Gwen Stacy. 

Her name was familiar to you. You didn't know where, but you were sure you had heard before. Still, you didn't ask Peter anything, assumed he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. You didn't say anything until you were out of the graveyard. You knew you would come back tomorrow to see your mother, but with Gwen on your mind. 

The more you looked at his face the more you could see him. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, he was easy to read. "You blame yourself." You said, nodding your head slowly. You smiled after seeing the face he made. "It's okay, I know the feeling." 

"Your mother?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of you talked for a long time. Peter could tell you weren't ready to talk about it. He knew it wasn't easy to open up, especially to a stranger. It'd been years since he talked about Gwen, so, he knew the feeling, too. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a message from Mary Jane.  "Just arrived home, you owe me." 

"That's it!" You exclaimed, remembering your talk with Mary Jane. "That's how I knew her name!" 

Peter, looking very confused, asked you. "What?" 

"Gwen, her name was very familiar." Pocketing your phone again. "I have a friend, Mary Jane, who went to the same high school with Gwen. I've seen her in the yearbook. That's where I recognized her name." 

"You know MJ?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed. "We met in Brooklyn, probably four years ago. I think it was very late, some guy was trying to get her number even though she said no, like five times. And I hadn't had the best day of my life. So, I punched the guy and told him to leave her alone. We have been friends ever since."

Peter was amazed. He didn't know how much cooler you could get. 

"You know her, too?" 

"Yeah, We've been friends for a long time. My aunt kinda tried to set us up."  

You laughed. Peter and Mary Jane seemed like two opposite characters. You would never imagine them together. But again, maybe Peter's pretty face was affecting your judgment. You didn't know. He made your mind foggy. At last, you found yourselves at your front yard again. Your eyes wandered over the empty spots that daisies left. 

"Would you like to get a coffee sometime?" Peter was leaning against white fences that surrounded your garden. He had that sweet smile on his face again. "So I can pay you back for daisies."

You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling so much. "Gwen was pretty enough for them. You can have some once a month when I'm not looking." Peter was feeling like you were about to turn him down. Both of you knew this wasn't really about the damn flowers. But again, Peter was every so often wrong about these kinds of things. "But you know, maybe not Saturdays. I'm usually free for a cup of coffee on Saturdays." Peter was ready to feed himself with only pasta for a week if it meant he would get to see you again. 

You could visibly see Peter's eyes liting up. "Just one cup?" 

You shrugged. "Tea is fine, too." 

"I didn't know MJ had friends like you." He said, intensely watching your every move. 

"Like me?" You were so sure something bad was coming, he was simply too good to be true.

"You know, this beautiful. If I had known, I would have visited her more."

"Wow, you are hiding a monster under that pretty face, don't you?"  

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #pter parker x f!reader #marvel #peter parker imagine #tom holland #andrew garfield #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine

[menofcolorswitchbodiestoo]

Episode:  

-Shanghai Swap Meat - Part 1

‘’What’s wrong with you dude? Have you unclogged the toilet yet?’’ My cousin asked.

‘’No, I haven’t done that ... yet.’‘

‘’Then what’s bothering you?’’

‘’Oh, nothing except that I’m the biggest loser of the family, and my life kind of sucks.’’

‘’Oh don’t be so hard on yourself Alan you’re not the brightest star of our family but you’re not the biggest failure either.’’

‘’Thanx cousin but let’s be honest I kinda screwed up. Dropped out twice, failing my classes again, and kicked out by dad because he’s embarrassed by his low-life son. We’re both 23 years old cousin but you already have your own butchery. Small business, but you build something yourself, you achieved something. What did I achieve? High School, that’s pretty much it.’’

‘’Don’t worry too much Alan you’re a late bloomer good things will come to you eventually. Until then, I don’t mind you here helping me in the shop in exchange for sleeping on my couch.’’

‘’Awesome, so in what way does that make my life suck any less? A young, late bloomer, dropout, kicked out, working for free in his cousin’s butchery and sleeping on his couch in downtown Shanghai, no offense cousin. You’re right I’m living the life!’’

I turned and ran into something massive and got pushed back to the display.

‘’Can’t you watch where you walk runt?!’’ A booming voice said. 

I looked up and I saw a man... no a mountain of solid muscles. From a quick glance, I noticed his thick pecs, wide boulder-sized shoulder, arms and legs thick as tree trunks, and the thickest ass in Asia.

‘’Move aside runt. Do you have my order ready butcher?’’ 

‘’But of course Mr. Kang I have already set it apart for you.’’ My cousin walked to the fridge. 

‘’Here is your order Mr. Kang: 7 Chicken breast, 5 pork chops, 3 lean steaks, and the rest of your order. Only the best quality for you Mr. Kang.’’ With difficulty, my cousin got the heavy bags with raw meat on the counter. 

‘’Finally.’’ Said the enormous brute said with his deep baritone manly voice. With one arm, he easily picked up the bags my cousin struggled to get up earlier from the counter. I was amazed by his build. This guy weighed at least 330 lbs with an impressive 6’5 height.

‘’Do you have in here someplace where I can take a piss?’’

‘’Of course, Mr. Kang toilet is in the back second door on the right.’’ My cousin replied. The bodybuilder walked past us, walking to the back. 

‘’Who was that God cousin?‘’

‘’God? No Alan customer, a big spender. Samual Kang is a former pro bodybuilder living here in Shanghai. He’s now founder and CEO of a successful chain of gyms across China, produces and sells nutrition and I thought he did some acting and modeling too. He always buys here his meat and a lot of it because it has not yet been processed.’’

"What does he have that I don't have?" "I asked him, feeling like my life sucked even more than I thought... reality just hit me hard.

‘’Well.... money, a penthouse, a gorgeous model as his girlfriend, money, a successful business, fans, a great body and again money.’’

‘’Haha, if you only were as good at making me feel better as you are at cutting meat’‘. 

*Sigh*. 

‘‘I wish I had his life, he seems to have his shit in order. And have you seen his body?! It takes years of dedication to get so puffed up! I would look awsome!’‘

‘’So you want to be like Mr. Kang don’t you Allen?’’ My cousin began staring seriously at me, he had never been so creepy.

''Uhm yeah kind of, didn't you hear me the first time cousin?''

He picked up a small plastic bottle with some green gunk under the counter. ‘’Drink this cousin!’’

‘’What is this?! How long did you keep this?’’’ I opened the bottle and the smell was horrific! ‘’Ugh, this smells awful cousin like grandpa’s feet, just throw it into the trashcan’’.

‘’Just drink it, Alan. For once just listen and do something that is going to make a difference in your life.’’ 

My cousin still had this creepy serious expression on his face. I felt I had to prove something to him by drinking it but I also didn’t want to drink whatever was inside this bottle. 

‘’Alright alright, I will drink it!’’ 

I opened the bottle again and knocked back the disgusting green juice all at once down my throat. 

‘’See... happy now cousin? Now let’s do a reality check… did drinking this turn my life upside down?... Uhm, nope it didn’t. It only left a bitter taste in my mouth  ugh...so thanks for that cousin very helpful.’’

‘’Just give it some time’’. My cousin said.

‘’But we’re almost closing, so I’m going to bed... I mean the couch’’.

Then it hit me, I suddenly felt an enormous rush. Out of nowhere, I felt an enormous pressure on my bladder.

''What did you do to me cousin?!'' I yelled. ''Oh man, this is going bad! Out of my way cousin!'' I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom in the back. It felt like I could snap anytime.

I stormed into the bathroom to the toilet. Shit, I forget to unclog it. I turn to the only urinal seeing Samual Kang standing in front of it. 

‘’Can you hurry up, please?!’’ Damn, I can’t hold it anymore! I got pulled to the urinal as something forced me to.

‘’Shut up runt can’t you see I’m busy! And don’t you dare to look!’’ Mr. Kang shouted at me.

‘’Oh, come on hurry up!!!’’ I couldn’t handle it anymore! And then my feet got off the ground and I smashed right into Mr. Kang’s back. 

‘’Didn’t I tell you to sh...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING GET OFF ME!’’

‘’I’m so sorry Mr. Kang I don’t know what is happening!’’ I tried to apologize and to get off Mr. Kang’’s large back, I put my hands on his back to push me off, but somehow I sank through into his back! 

‘’WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!’’ (*we said simultaneously*)

My arms sank deeper into Mr. Kang’s back as well as my legs that were already halfway in.

‘’Please, stop! It hurts… get out!’’ Mr. Kang yelled and began to stumble as he tried to walk away. 

‘’Stand still before you make us fall and we break something!’’ We stopped. Wait did I just do that did I just controlled his legs?!

I pushed my second arm into Kang’s right arm and use both to slowly pull my body into his. I tried to move my fingers inside Mr. Kang´s large hands. His large sausage fingers moved on my command! 

‘’Dude I’m somehow connected to your body! Looks like I can control this body. Awesome!’’ I shouted.

‘’No this isn’t possible!’’ Kang stumbles around the room as the two of us fight for control. Spasming and swinging his arms, Kang attempts to push me out. But I  sleeved my skinny arms into his and now control these massive arms.

With a malicious grin splitting on my own face, I bring Sam’s hands up to his face and began to feel it and then going down to caress his muscles. It’s so weird I feel like I’m feeling it with my own hands. Mr. Kang almost collapses on the ground as I continue pushing. 

‘’No, no big guy can’t let that happen, these strong legs of ours can easily hold us both!’’ I forced Mr. Kang into a standing position with my arms against the toilet wall. Mr. Kang Still trembling with an occasional spasmatic twitching, while I’m moving around inside him. I get deeper and deeper inside his body. It’s warm inside and a bit tight. I can feel Samual Kang’s cock getting hard as I shove mine errected cock into his. Samual groans and gasps in a mixture of agony and pleasure. I chuckle at the thought of what I was doing to Samual and continue exploring his body in this new exciting way.

 "That's enough! Get out of me...leave my body alone!"

‘’Nah why stop now? Now let’s see what’s inside that head of yours Samual Kang.’’  

I push my head into Kang’s and the last of me into him. I had now been fully absorbed by Mr. Kang’s bodybuilder body.

I opened my eyes looking at this amazing muscle bod now fully under my control. First let’s take this shirt off MY muscles deserve to be seen. I flexed my biceps.

‘‘OH YEAH! BRING IT! HOLY CRAP!’‘

We left one last moan... and then a flash of light appeared. We were pulled out of eachother, separated. Everything went dark. 

Samual Kang fell behind on the floor while Allen fell forward into the urinal.

...A few hours passed...

*PHONE RINGS*

‘’Uhm, Come on cousin just a few more minutes. I… I just had the weirdest dream ever. That green stuff... ugh you gave me was strong or was that also a part of the dream. I...I just need a little bit more sleep’’...

PHONE MESSAGE BANK:

*beep* Mr. Kang you have 38 messages.

Latest message received 1 minute ago.

*beep* (Allen’s voice:) ‘’Answer the phone! I don’t know how the fuck you did this little runt  but I’m, uh, I think I'm in the wrong body, your body’’. 

*beep* (Allen’s voice:) ‘‘Allen that’s your name right ‘‘Allen’‘, check your friggin voicemail please we have to fix this. Damn it! Oh my head still hurts! Did you really have to smash this head into the fucking urinal?! Call me back.’‘

                                       - To be continued -

#male body swap #Asian x Asian #menofcolorswitchbodiestoo

[mypoisonedvine]

Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior.  unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease.  He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project.  “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch.  “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh.  Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent.  “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time?  Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day?  I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his.  “Me too,” you admitted.  “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close!  You used to tell me everything.  And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue.  “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us.  And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away.  “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him.  He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you.  Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused.  “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it.  “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most.  “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen.  “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him.  “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education.  Not be a fucking slut.  Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans?  Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me.  Is this what you wanted?  Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry.  “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered.  “How stupid are you?  Did you think these would stay private?  Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long.  How long have you been doing this, huh?  Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content.  Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you?  I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard.  You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party.  The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time.  For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother.  It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh?  How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit.  “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking.  I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head.  “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis.  The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.  

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent.  You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun.  You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it.  And chat with strangers online about it.  And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer.  “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry.  I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account.  It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you.  Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can.  This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious.  “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear.  “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit?  ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.  

“Say it, then.  Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—” 

“No?” he repeated incredulously.  “You can’t say no to me, honey.  Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought.  What are they gonna say to that?  Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out?  As if.  So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.  

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then.  Fucking.  Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you.  When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts.  “I have needs too, sis.  Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock.  And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.  

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh.  Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin.  When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned.  “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.”  He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp.  “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked?  You talk about it all the time.  You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off?  Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed.  “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it?  Will you spread your legs for any cock?  Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned.  Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly.  “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss.  It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be.  But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra.  Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours.  Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength.  When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully.  “Wow, you really do like this.  Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis.  Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.”  He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted.  Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch.  He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.  

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how.  Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt.  You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out.  And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly.  He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation.  You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine.  Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do.  He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim.  “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling.  “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster.  The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened.  “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want.  Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed.  “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this?  Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head.  “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him.  “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck.  Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go.  And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance.  When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent.  “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh?  Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength.  Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one.  “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open.  He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh?  Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over.  I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.  

“Relax, sis, not today.  I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy.  Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse.  He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance.  You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal.  The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you?  Just from this.  You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours.  You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby?  We were made for each other,” he cooed.  “You were made to take this cock.  You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch.  “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you.  Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh.  “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms.  It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him.  As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on.  “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused.  “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit.  You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped.  “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before.  I watched you do it.  I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole.  Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you.  “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy.  Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you.  “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you?  You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh?  Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment.  It certainly made your heart swell as if it was.  He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him.  “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway.  Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.  

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch.  You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you.  Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside.  He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently.  “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled.  “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby?  We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

#sam wilson smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #sam wilson dark fic

[broiunno]

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

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summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

==

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

==

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

==

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

[gangrenados]

this is extremely important: stark reader x jason todd featuring reader’s best friend! wade just being wierd around them

This is more about Jason and Wade meeting than anything, so yup

•It was less to say that your dad didn't really approve Wade as your friend.

•Although Tony knew this weird guy had the best intentions with you, he couldn't help but not ignore all the massive criminal records he hold

•...well, Wade always defended himself saying that it's not a crime if it means that the world can become a better place without all the scum and yeah, he also needed the money.

•Not that Stark needed to know about that, right?

"You know I will support you no matter what because we're family and all that stuff, but why?" Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose when he hears Wade talking so excitedly about some old pictures of the avengers, he was talking about his own team.

"Wade is a great guy, dad. You both could get along if you didn't treat him in such mean way!" You pointed out calmly and Tony gasped shortly after that.

"I don't know where you got an especial interest on dangerous guys, but you should check that out." Tony said sternly.

"C'mon dad! You're being really unfair right now." You took a bite from your chocolate bar as you pointed a finger to Tony." Besides, I wasn't the one looking for a new bike for Jason's birthday, huh?"

Tony left out a a sight, pinching the bridge of his nose once again, an habit that unfortunately has stuck with him thanks to all of those times having to hear Peter nerdy ramblings." You know what? Go before Wade ends up blowing up something. Just go, goodbye."

•But what about Wade's relationship with Jason? Well.

•If we're talking about the superhero field then Deadpool finds quite interesting this Red Hood guy.

"Fuck man, we're like twins!!" Wade shouted excitedly as he chocked a criminal with his granade belt.

•How they got in this situation? Well, teaming up was always something exciting, even for those who tend to work alone.

• Although Jason wasn't so happy to have to work with this dude who can't keep his mouth shut, Wade was having a blast.

"We can have a team name!" Jason rolled his eyes at comment, he didn't answer, but Wade didn't needed it. So he kept going." What about DeadHood or Red Pool?"

"Ah fuck..." Jason shoot a guy on the head before turning to face Wade." Dude, can you stop? Those are some interesting names, but the thing is that I'm not interested. Shut the fuck up."

" I see, you're not that friendly." Wade shook his head" Well, that's a shame cuz I really like how DeadHood sounds! It's kinda mysterious ya know?"

"Anyway, we'll probably see again and we could talk about the name when that happens! It's usually that way with these kind of stories...see ya!"

•That Was the last thing this guy said before jumping into his motorcycle and leaving a really confused and annoyed Red Hood behind.

•Jason didn't paid much attention to his words, after all if didn't made sense and he had to attend more important business, like going to your place to meet this friend of yours.

•He wasn't too excited about it, but it was important to you so fuck it.

"Someone told me you meet Deadpool" you made your way to the living room where a patched up Jason was waiting patiently in the couch.

•You sat beside him, making sure to not move too much to not cause him any pain." So what do you think about him?"

Jason let out an annoyed sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair before speaking." He's insufferable. I would have shot him, but it would have been a waste since apparently he can regenerate himself...ugh."

•You chuckled nervously at Jason's confession, you knew he always have a hard time working with others, but you stupidly hoped their first encounter would have turned a little bit better.

"Oh..." was the only thing you could say as you did your best to not ruin the big surprise." Uh, Jay? About the friend I wanted you to meet, he's-"

•The sound of the microwave going off caught both of your attention, alongside the happily squealing that was coming from the kitchen.

"Oh my God, why pizza is so fucking tasty!" Jason frowned is eyebrows at the sight of a man dressed in an all red suit, with bullet holes and dried blood coming from the kitchen. "It's like a mini orgasm every time I took a bite! Is it too exaggerated if I said I would sell my soul for a slice of pizza? Probably yes..."

•Deadpool was in your house? This better be a dream cuz Jason wasn't happy with this. He took a sharp breath between his teeth and clenched his jaw. You knew Jason wasn't having it.

"I told you to take off that damn suit!" You glared at Wade with wide eyes, he didn't understood your sing at first but he clearly got after you 'subtlety' pointed out Jason.

"Oh shit" Wade said under his breath.

•The tension in the room could be easily cut with a knife, it was so dense and suffocating or maybe it was Jason's glare at Wade.

"So, this is my best friend...Deadpool?" You turned to him, unsure of how to address this situation." Can I say your name or we go by Deadpool?"

•Maybe you couldn't see it, but Wade's eyebrows were knitted into a frown. He couldn't take his eyes of off his pizza as his thoughts rushed into a million of ideas of how to get out of this situation.

"I don't know, this is weird." He said as he clicked his tongue. "Maybe we can do this another time, I just remember I hot a job to do and I need money, so we can meet later (y/n)'s boyfriend!"

•Wade handed you his plate before he rushed to the front door, leaving you without a clue about what to do next.

"Damn," he cursed before stepping out, poking his head back again into your apartment." Look man, I like to be a pacifist, but if you dare to hurt (y/n) I won't hesitate to fill your pretty lil head with lead. Capisci?"

•And that's how your best friend and boyfriend met. You can bet your ass that it was headache explaining to Jason why were you friend with this guy.

Tag list below the cut (ignore)

Marvel tag list: @nervousfandom @mukelovers @pretendthisusernameisgoodd @miliablr @gigi-is-confused @shadygoateeprincess @smol-flower-kiddo @ghost-bitch @lovelyartemisa

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal23 @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost

#stark reader #dad! tony stark #tony stark headcanon #tony stark imagine #wade wilson headcanon #wade wilson imagine #deadpool imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #dc imagine #xmen imagine

[atlafan]

The Real Him - One Shot

a/n: I’m not sure where this came from...a lot of this is sort of how I feel about writing, and reading, and how my brain works???? Hope you enjoy cause it’s fun! Book Writer!Harry x Y/N (not proofread) 

Words: 9.6K

Warnings: Fluff, wee bit of angst, and smut

Books weren’t things Y/N found interesting. She hated reading the assigned books in high school for whatever English classes she had to take. She often would just read what she needed on Sparknotes, and that was enough. Then, in college, even if she wanted to read for leisure, she didn’t have the time. She had to read articles and academic journals constantly. By the time she was done for the day, the last thing she wanted to do was read.

Now, as a young adult living in the city, she noticed her anxiety was always worse at night. She lived alone in a little studio apartment, it had a wonderful view. She would watch TV or scroll on her phone until she fell asleep, but the screens were too much for her eyes. She knew it wasn’t good for her. Much to her friends’ shock, she texted them asking them for book recommendations. Y/N didn’t want to think too hard, she didn’t like scary stories, but she also liked a little bit of world building and romance. Fuck, if there was anything she loved, it was a good romance. Her friends told her about this young author they discovered whose stories were enthralling.

She took their word for it, and ordered one of his books off his website. He was self-published, which she found to be interesting. How good could he be if a major publication didn’t want him? She trusted her friends’ opinions though, so she went with it. He had this series called, The Unicorn in the Farmer’s Pool, that they raved about. She told herself she’d start with the first one and see how it goes. Sometimes Y/N had a hard time concentrating to even read a book, so she didn’t want to buy too many.

The title of the book itself was odd, but when she read the description she understood. Apparently, it was about this young woman, new to town, who was going for a walk with her younger sister, and one day they come across this beautiful old home and large farm. There was a pool in the back with one of those big unicorn floats, which they both found odd. They see the farmer outside, and the woman inquires about it. He explains that it’s his daughter’s. He and his wife were divorced, and she moved out to the city. Unfortunately, she passed away, so his little girl came home to live with him.

It was a certified slow burn, so when it came in the mail, Y/N couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. There was only one picture of the author, Harry Styles, on his website. The book, however, had a lovely picture of him on it. He even named his publication company after himself, trademarking HES Books. He was handsome, there was no denying that.

“Alright, let’s see how well this guy knows how to write thing from the perspective of a woman.” She says as she settles into her bed with the book.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N found a book that she just couldn’t put down. Sure, she passed out with it on her chest, but she’d get right back to it the next night. She was ripping through it. Her heart would race anytime the farmer and the woman had a scene together. She cried when he spoke about his divorce, and how he never slept knowing his daughter was so far away. He’d never wish his ex-wife ill, but he felt like it was fate to have his daughter home. He’d give her anything she wanted, even a giant unicorn float for the pool. Something she couldn’t have in the city. His daughter would paint his nails glittery colors, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought of it. Y/N could feel her heart pounding as the woman slowly fell for him. They became fast friends but it was clear they wanted more, but they were both so scared.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” She says to herself when she gets to the end of the book, it was a cliffhanger. They hadn’t even gotten together yet. They were caught in a rain storm, about to kiss, but they were interrupted. “Goddammit.” She groans and grabs her laptop to buy the rest of the series. “Welp, Mr. Styles, you now own my ass, I hope you’re happy.” She sticks her tongue out at his picture on his website.

By the time she finished the third book, she was inconsolable. It thrilling, but she knew it couldn’t be the end for the two who were now so in love with each other. She also couldn’t believe how well written their love scenes were, a little shocked there was a small dash of smut. She looked on his website and saw he was set to release the fourth and final book of the series soon, and there would be a big release for it. He would do a reading and signing. Y/N texted her friends and they all agreed they needed to go. They still couldn’t believe how much Y/N liked the series. It consumed her soul, she couldn’t get enough. She even bought his other standalone novels to read until the release.

Eliza: hey! HES just released the first book on audio, and he narrates it! Should hold us over until the release ;)  

Y/N: holy fucking shit! Literally about to go download it, thanks!!!

Now this was a way to fall asleep, she thought. She plugged her earbuds into her phone, turned her light off, and hit play. She gasps the second she hears his voice.

“He’s British?!” She says to herself. “Dear god.”

His voice was deep and sultry, and sounded incredibly crisp through the audio. Each night for the rest of that week, she fell asleep to the sound of Harry’s voice; it was euphoric. She felt sort of weird for becoming as big of a fan of him that she was. It was like she was in high school again having a crush on some unattainable celebrity. She couldn’t even talk about him to anyone at work. It was like this big secret between her and her friends. Instead of listening to music in her office, she started listening to interviews or podcasts he was involved in. Anything to just get a better understanding for who he was or how his mind worked. She found that he was incredibly private, only tweeting or posting on Instagram from promotional purposes. A PR person most likely running the sites for him.

“Okay, I think I’m obsessed with him, like, it’s bad.” She tells her friends at brunch one Saturday morning. They would all try their best to get together a couple times a month.

“Welcome to the dark side.” Eliza says.

“I knew if we didn’t push you that you’d come around at some point to ask us for a book rec.” Melinda says.

“You could have just showed me his picture, he’s so handsome! I can’t wait to go to the signing. I wonder what type of suit he’ll wear. Maybe all black?”

“I heard he’s into florals lately.” Eliza says. “I’m glad we got our tickets when we did, it’s going to be packed.”

“Yeah, like, at least we’ll have seats for the reading.” Melinda says.

“I can’t believe we’re going to hear his voice in person. That audio book? Oh my god.” She pretends to fan herself. “I’ve been enjoying his other novels too. He has such a way with words, I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed a book this much. Maybe The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants?” She chuckles.

“Didn’t you read that in high school?!” Eliza laughs.

“Yeah!” Y/N laughs, and Melinda joins in. “I fucking hate reading. I wonder if he’ll ever sell the rights and have it turned into a movie or TV series.”

“People have been begging him. He said maybe once the fourth book has been out for a bit. He didn’t want to feel pressured, like, you know how with Game of Thrones the books didn’t come out fast enough for the series?” Melinda says.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense. I think a TV show would be good. Then they could take their time with it. The only thing is I can’t picture someone playing the farmer other than him.” Y/N sighs.

“Agreed.” Eliza says. “I can really only see him.”

“So, how are we dressing for the signing? I don’t wanna look desperate by dressing up too much.” Melinda says.

“Melinda…” Y/N starts chuckling. “You have a girlfriend.”

“I’m aware.” She swats a hand at Y/N. “But damn, Harry is too fine.”

//

Y/N curls the ends of her hair on the day of the signing. It was finally here, and she couldn’t be more excited. She found a cute yellow top to wear with some high waist jeans. She does some simple makeup, but makes sure to have her eyes pop. The rules were that people could only bring one book with them, so she grabs the first in the Unicorn series. She fully intended to buy the new book as well, and they said he would sign all new purchases too.

She meets Melinda and Eliza outside the bookstore where it would all be happening. They get in line to buy their new books, and head to their seats. They were able to snag tickets for the second row. He would be reading the first few chapters of the first book, and then would spend the rest of the time signing books.

“I’m so excited.” Y/N whispers to both of her friends.

A man comes out shortly to check the crowd of people waiting, and soon it’s announced that Harry would be coming out. Everyone stands up and claps for him. He was wearing a sleek black suit, and his hair was pushed back off his face. He looked bashful as he smiled out to everyone, and stood at the podium provided. Everyone sits back down as he clears his throat.

“Thank you all so much for being here. Whether you’re a new fan or if you’ve been with me for years, I appreciate your support. It feels surreal for this series to be over. I’ve loved these characters so much, and when I finished the final edits, it felt weird saying goodbye. I also want to say thanks for all the support with the first audio book. I fully intend to do one for the rest, it just takes a lot of time and editing, so hold tight for me, alright?” The crowd giggles, and his dimple grows deeper. He takes a sip of the water provided, and opens the book. “Let’s get started shall we?” He looks up at the audience who was waiting patiently. He makes eye contact with Y/N. It’s brief, but he looked at her…or at least she told herself he did.

His voice was just as smooth in person as it was on the audio. Y/N was swooning, barely paying attention to the words, but more so watching the way his lips moved. The way he’d lick his lips after getting a sip of water, and watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down. It all felt like a dream. He ended up reading five chapters instead of three, as a treat, until his manager came out to remind him to wrap it up.

“Right, well, I’ve been told I’m done speaking.” He chuckles. “I just need about ten minutes and I’ll be able to sign all your books. Thanks so much!”

He leaves as everyone claps for him again. Everyone gets in line and waits for him to return. There was a table waiting for him to sit at and a ton of markers.

“I wonder how long we’ll get with him. Like, a minute, right?” Eliza asks.

“Make every second count.” Y/N says.

“I’m gonna try to take a selfie.” Melinda says. “Then I’ll really remember it forever.”

As the girls got closer to the front of the line, Y/N felt herself getting nervous, and her palms were starting to sweat. She tries to wipe them on her jeans before she gets to him.

“Hello, love.” He smiles at her. “Whatcha bring f’me?”

“Huh?” She was so taken aback.

“Well, I know you didn’t come here to have me sign a body part…unless you did.” He shrugs. “Although, I don’t think my manager would appreciate that.” He winks at her and it makes her giggle.

“I have the first back, and the newest one.” She hands them both to him. “I have to say, I’m not really a big reader, but this really drew me in. I think I’ve fallen in love with reading for the first time in my life.”

“That’s like…I mean…wow, what a compliment, thanks.” He signs both of the books. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeats as he continues to leave a nice note in both of her books. “You know pictures aren’t allowed, but if you turn around and happen to take a selfie they can’t stop you.” He points to the few guards.

Y/N turns around and takes a selfie with Harry. She turns back around and chuckles as she takes her books back.

“Thank you so much. I can’t wait for the next audio books.”

“You liked the first one?”

“Loved it.”

“So, it wasn’t weird listening to me for that long?”

“Not at all…” She starts blushing. “Your voice is sort of, um, soothing…I have a lot of anxiety at night, and, well, reading, and evening listening has helped me sleep a lot better. So, thanks again.” She smiles at him and he smiles back.

He wished he could hug her. He looks back at his manager, who just sighs at him and nods. Harry stands up from the table and walks around. Before she knew it, his arms were being wrapped around her. She got a whiff of his cologne, and she swore it was her new favorite smell in the world. She barely got a chance to put her hands on him before his manager said it was enough and Harry needed to get back to it.

“Sorry, that was just so endearing.” He lets go of her and sits back down. “Thanks for your support.”

Y/N steps aside and looks at her friends who were waiting for her to finish up. She looks back at Harry who was already talking to the next person. She sighs, knowing she was long forgotten already.

“Oh my god, I took a picture of him hugging you.” Eliza says. “What was it like? All he did was shake my hand.”

“He smelled so good.” Y/N whines. “Girls, let’s go out for drinks tonight. I need to get some energy out.”

“Great idea! We can drink and then dance the night away.” Melinda says. “What did he write in your books?”

“I don’t wanna look yet, I wanna save it.” Y/N smiles and holds her books close to her.

//

After grabbing dinner and dropping their books off at Y/N’s place, they all head to their favorite dance bar. They all get their drinks and stand near the bar to drink them. Y/N was happily sucking on her straw, swaying along to the fast beat of the music.

“Look, they actually roped off the VIP section.” Eliza points out. Y/N and Melinda turn to look.

“I wonder who’s here. Once in a while someone cool shows up.” Melinda says.

The group in the VIP section erupts into laughter, and the girls’ eyes grow wide. Harry was standing up from the booth, looking much more casual. He still had his dress pants and button up on, but his sleeves were pushed up, revealing his tattoos. He strides up to the bar as he shakes his head back at his friends. He brushes right by the girls, bumping into Y/N, causing her to spill her drink.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, love.” He says to her, and then he looks her up and down. “Do I know you?” He slurs slightly.

“Um…we…we met earlier today. You signed my books.”

“I signed your what?!” The music was really loud, he must have thought she said something else.

“Books, books!” She really enunciates the k sound.

“Oh!” He bursts out laughing, and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I was gonna say, that sorta thing isn’t really my style. What are you drinking, I’ll get you a new one.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. There’s still plenty in here.”

“Don’t be silly, I feel terrible. In fact,” He looks at Melinda and Eliza, and then to the bar tender. “Their next round’s on me. I also need another bottle of Patron for my table.”

“Coming right up!”

“Lost a bet with ‘em.” He rolls his eyes. “So the next bottle’s on me.” He shrugs.

“We’ll bring it over to you.” The bar tender says as she puts up three new drinks for you and your friends.

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“S’the least I can do. Your support is the only reason why I can afford what I have. I should buy your drinks all night.” He smirks.

“Y/N.” Melinds grabs her shoulders and whispers in her ear. “Go for it, bitch, go for it. He’s hitting on you. We’ll be over there.”

She lets Y/N go and drags Eliza with her over to another part of the bar. Y/N grabs her drink and smiles at Harry.

“Your name’s Y/N, right?”

“You must have seen hundreds of people today, how’d you remember?”

“I’m really good with names.” He grins. “Do you want to join me and my friends?”

“What?!”

“Come on, seems like your friends are busy anyways.” He nods over to Melinda and Eliza where Melinda was working as a wing-man for Eliza. “They’re bringing over the Patron, you’ll love it.” He grabs her wrist and brings her over. One of the body guards raises his eyebrows. “I’m baacckk, let us in Mike.” Mike lifts the rope up and lets Harry and Y/N in. “Everyone this is Y/N, she’s got to be one of my biggest fans, so she’s joining us.” He pulls her down into the booth with him and puts his arm around her shoulders.

He was drunk, this was very clear. No one seemed bothered by her presence. Everyone was just happy to have refills for their drinks. Harry takes a shot of the Patron along with everyone else as Y/N sips on her drink. She felt bad, Eliza had to be a bigger fan of Harry, or at least she had been a fan longer…

“So, how’d you know he’d be here?” Harry’s manager, Jeff, asks.

“I didn’t.” She blushes. “My friends and I come here all the time.”

“Right, like we haven’t heard that one before.” Jeff smirks. “Some of you fangirls-“

“Oi! Don’t make fun, she’s cool.” Harry defends her.

“I can prove I’ve been here plenty of times.” Y/N takes her phone out and shows them her Facebook page. “There, you can see how many times I’ve checked in here. I only live a block away, so this tends to be the spot.”

“See, Jess, this is the spot.” Harry smirks, and knocks back another shot. “We’re being rude, here.” He slides a shot over to her. “Have as much as you like.”

“That’s okay, I have this.” She points to her glass.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, you’re so nice.” He pulls her a little closer to him. “But really, if you want any, you can have as much as you want, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Y/N sort of just sits there and tries to listen as each person talks, but the music was so loud, and she was itching to dance, especially now that she had a couple of drinks in her. She was drumming her fingers mindlessly on the table.

“Do you want to dance?” He whispers in her ear. A shiver goes up her spine. She looks up at him and nods. “Alright, let’s hit it then.”

She gets out of the booth and he quickly follows her out to the dance floor. At first it’s just light and playful, he keeps one hand in hers, but keeps a respectable distance. If Y/N was dancing with her friends right now she’d probably be popping her ass no problem. She sort of wished they were still around. She couldn’t remember the last time she danced with a guy. She looks at him and feels a little bold, so she hooks an arm around his neck and dances close to him. His hands move to her hips as she essentially grinds on his thigh. When the next song starts, she turns around to grind her ass against his pelvis. He presses forward against her and she can tell he’s very happy to be dancing with her.

“You said your place was only a block away?” He says into her ear, and she nods. “Wanna head there?”

She stops dancing and turns around to face him.

“Are you serious?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, too forward?”

“No…I just…um…yeah, let’s go back to mine.”

He smiles and throws his arm around her shoulders. He looks over at Jeff who was still sitting with their friends. He waves off to him, and heads out side with Y/N. Harry whistles for a cab, and one pulls up almost right away. They both get into the backseat, and Y/N gives the driver her address. Harry rubs circles into her shoulder. She rests her hand on his knee, as her leg shakes with nerves.

“You alright, love?”

“Mhm, yeah.” She doesn’t look at him.

“No need to be nervous, babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She looks up at him now and smiles. She wanted to do everything with him. It was like every fantasy she had was coming to life. She had dreams about this, but never thought it would come true. The cab pulls up in front of Y/N’s building and they both get out of the cab. She keys into the front door and she leads him to the elevator.

“I’m surprised you’re not exhausted, must be draining to meet so many people.”

“Caught a second wind.” He winks at her. She giggles as they get off at her floor.

She leads him inside as she flips the lights on.

“It’s just a studio.”

“It’s nice, just enough space. You’ve got a great view.” He says as he walks over to the window.

“Yeah, I got really lucky.”

“Mind if I pull the curtains?”

“Not at all.”

She watches the muscles in his back flex as he reaches to pull the curtains closed. He turns to face her and walks over to where she is. He cups one of her cheeks and she leans into his touch.

“I have to be honest, I don’t usually do this.” He says.

“Do what? Hook up with a girl from a bar?” She smirks.

“No, hook up with a fan…” He sighs. “But what you said to me earlier about your anxiety and how my books have helped you, it stuck with me all day. I’m really glad I ran back into you. I got kinda nervous when you didn’t message me.”

“What? Why would I have?”

“I wrote my number in your book.” He lets go of her and steps back. “You didn’t read my notes?”

“No, I…I was saving them for when I was feeling down.” She admits, a little embarrassed. “Why did you put your number in it?”

“In case you ever needed someone to talk to…if you ever got sick of listening to the same story over and over. It was a little impulsive, but no one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

“I’m surprised by that.”

“Usually people just tell me that they enjoyed it, or they try to flirt or something. It’s usually pretty hollow.” He shrugs. “But you…” He takes her hands in his. “Well…if you noticed, I didn’t really hug anyone else.”

“I did notice. You made me feel really special, Harry.”

“I’d like to keep making you feel that way…”

He releases her hands, and she wraps her arms around his neck. Her hands slide up through his curls, and she gets up on her tip toes while his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. His lips brush over hers, and she pulls his face closer to hers to deepen the kiss. She smiles against his lips which makes him smile and pull back.

“What is it?”

“I just…I can’t believe this is happening…” She presses her hips closer to his.

“You’ve thought about this before, with me?”

She nods her head yes and he smirks.

“Is that weird?” She asks, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“Who am I to judge what helps someone fall asleep at night?” His voice was low now, eyes darker than they were moments before.

Maybe this wasn’t something either of them should be doing while inebriated. But from lack of better judgement they start kissing again. His hands slide down to cup her ass, and his large hands give her a squeeze. She groans into his mouth, giving him the perfect excuse to lick into her. Her tongue molds to his, and she starts pushing him to walk back towards her bed. He happily lets her lead the way.

The back of his calves hit the bed, and he almost loses his balance. He sits down and brings her with him so she’s straddling his lap. Lips only breaking for a moment to get some air until they’re on each other again. Her hands lace through his hair and he groans when she tugs on him. His lips move to her jaw and then to just under her ear. She gasps when she feels him suck on the tender skin. Her hips roll down over his, and he smirks against her. He licks over the spot he was sucking on, and goes back for more. She grinds herself against him, feeling his bulge press up against where she needs it most. His lips move back to hers so he can nip at her bottom lip before looking at her.

“You want this?” He asks.

“Wouldn’t have said yes to coming back here if I didn’t.”

“You could have changed your mind between the bar and now.” He tucks some loose strands of hair behind her hair. “I meant what I said earlier, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to, do you?”

“I certainly didn’t change my mind.”

She smiles and leans in to kiss him again before getting off him. She reaches behind him quickly to snag one of her throw pillows to put on the floor. She sits up on her knees before him and reaches for his for the button on his dress pants. She looks up at him as he widens his legs for her. He wasn’t expecting a blow job, but he wasn’t one to turn it down. She pops the button and undoes his zipper. She reaches into his pants and palms him through his boxers first. His palms were flat on the bed, his arms keeping him up, but he can’t help but let his head fall back from her touch.

“Harry, look at me.”

He immediately does as she says so he can make eye contact with her.

“Is this okay? Can I take it out?”

“Yeah, please.”

She smiles and tugs his pants and boxers down slightly, he lifts his hips up to help her. He unbuttons his shirt while his dick slaps up against his lower stomach. She gazes up at him. Once his shirt is off, she can’t help but look over all his tattoos.

“You’re so…pretty.” She chuckles.

“Not as pretty as you.” He runs his hands through her hair, giving her a little encouragement to get started.

She blushes as her eyes fall to his hard cock, tip swollen and ready to go. She licks her right hand and gives him a few pumps first. He grunts as he watches her. She licks a stripe up from his base to his tip before she wraps her lips around him. His eyes flutter closed for a second, but he didn’t want to miss anything so he does his best to keep his eyes open to watch her work on him. She already had small droplets of spit rolling down her chin. Sloppy, he thinks to himself and he smirks. She sinks a little further down on him, testing herself to see how much she can take. He thrusts up slightly to meet her halfway and she gags on him, needing to pop off for a moment.

“Sorry, been a while.” She mumbles, and gets back on him.

“No worries, doing great, love.”

He helps keep her hair back as she starts to bob up and down on him. Her warm mouth felt so fucking good around him. She swallows around him before really hollowing her cheeks to suck on him. Her mouth moves up to his tip so she can lick away at his slit. She wraps a hand around him to pump him as she does this.

“Baby, baby, hold on.” He pants, and moves her face away from him. She looks up at him with big, innocent eyes that were slightly watery now. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.” He sounded almost out of the breath. She nods and stands up. His hands grips her hips and then slide to the button on her own jeans. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She says, taking off her shirt. He looks up at her and kisses on her chest as he undoes her pants.

He yanks them down her legs. He smiles at her mismatched set of underwear. She had worn a white bra with her yellow shirt, and a simple pair of blue panties with her jeans.

“I didn’t think, um, I would be…it was a girl’s night, and-“

“Do you really think I care about your underwear not matching?” He raises an eyebrow at her as he smirks.

She smiles and rests her hands on his shoulders as he kisses on her lower tummy. He stands up to kick his pants away, and lets her get on the bed. She lays on her back, propping herself up with her elbows. He crawls onto the bed and settles between her legs. His lips find hers as he grinds himself against her covered center. She bites her bottom lip, just wanting her underwear gone. He reaches behind her to unhook her bra. After a few seconds of fumbling he gets it, and watches the bra loosen around her. She pushes it off her shoulders, and tosses it to the ground. His hands cup her full breasts immediately. He kneads them and tweaks her nipples. She grinds her hips up towards his as they continue to move against each other. He dips his head down to kiss on her chest, and he rolls a nipple between his teeth. He works his way down her body and slides her underwear down her legs, tossing them aside where he feels like. She parts her legs for him.

He dips his down and licks from her center to her clit. He does this slowly but with precision. Her hips buck up towards him, encouraging him to keep going, so he does. He licks all around her until his lips are around her throbbing clit. He nibbles and sucks and flicks his tongue while his fingers explore her folds. Her hands were in his hair. She kept thinking she was going to wake up. Any minute now she would snap out of her dream. She would pinch her eyes closed and expect to see the morning sun creeping through her windows, but not this time. When she opened her eyes there he was, head between her legs, lapping away at her. The clouds covering the moon and night sky. He had her whimpering and tugging at his hair. He wanted her to come, but not yet, just get her to the brink. She pouts at him when he lifts his head. He licks his lips and smiles at her.

“Got any rubbers?”

“Mhm, in the bathroom, I can-“

“I got it, just tell me where.”

“The box in the cabinet below the sink.”

He pecks her lips before going into her little bathroom. He smirked to himself wondering how he might shower the next morning. He was taller than the showerhead. He bends down to open up the cabinet and spots the box of condoms. It was opened, but not many were missing. Not the he was one to judge. Harry hooked up a lot. He grabs a couple, just in case they feel like getting frisky again later on, and heads back out. He rips the foil packet open and slides it on over his length. She bites her bottom lip in anticipation.

“Tell me something,” He starts as he gets back on the bed, between her legs, hovering over her body. “When you had me in your thoughts was it ever like this?”

He rubs his tip against her clit, getting her to moan out. He pushes into her entrance but doesn’t go much further until he gets his answer. His eyebrows were raised, looking at her.

“This is usually the part when I’d wake up.” She whispers. “Before anything good could really happen.” She cups his cheek and runs her thumb over his cheekbone. “Please.”

He kisses her as he pushes the rest of the way inside her. They both groan. She was so wet, even with the condom on, it still felt amazing. He was nice and snug inside her. He moves slowly at first to not hurt her. He hooks an arm under one of her legs to bring it up a little higher. He wanted to get in as deep as possible. She clutches at his shoulders as he drives it in.

“Oh my god.” She gasps as his tip brushes her g-spot. “Jesus Christ.” She grits her teeth.

“Ever had anyone like this before?” He says into her ear.

“Never this deep, shit.”

He sits up and puts both of her legs over his shoulders. His fingers press bruises into her thighs as he holds onto her. She looks up at him as her mouth falls open. He was ramming into her and it felt so good to fuck like this. She didn’t want to be treated delicately. What he was doing was amazing, but her clit was missing the friction, so her hand slides down to rub at it.

“Fuck.” He breathes as he watches her touch herself. He lets go of one of her thighs and moves her hand aside so he can rub it for her. Her head rolls back the second she feels his thumb on her.

“Just like that.” She pants. “Don’t stop.”

He grunts his response as he continues to fuck her. He could feel her tightening around his cock and he knew she was close. He rubs her a little faster, and watches as her body contorts under his.

“Let go, come on, show me how you do it, Y/N.”

That pushes her over the edge. She cries out as she comes around him. He rubs her still, but slows his pace to help her through it. She tightens around him again as she comes down from her bliss. He drops her legs and pulls out. He sits up against her headboard and pulls her into his lap. He doesn’t have her face him, though, he has her sit on him facing away. Her head rolls back against his shoulder once she sinks down on him. She uses her knees to push herself up and down on his cock. He bites down on her shoulder, licks up to just under her ear to suck on the tender skin again. His hands find her bouncing breasts, and he kneads them.

“Harry.” She groans.

“Feels good, love?”

“So good.” She turns her head and sticks her tongue out slightly so he’ll kiss her. His tongue meets hers and they practically slobber all over each other as her pace quickens on him.

His hands slide down to her hips to help her. He thrusts up into her to get into a rhythm. He could feel his orgasm bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Fuck, oh my god.” He moans, which makes her moan. She tightens around him. He wanted her to come again, to come with him, so he rubs her clit while she continues to bounce him.

“Shit, fuck, Harry!”

They come at the same time, both of them crying out form the intensity. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he lifts her off of him. She gets up and quickly walks to the bathroom to clean herself up. He goes in after her to rid himself of the condom. She was about to throw on a t-shirt when he comes back out.

“Don’t bother.” He smirks.

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll just come off again.”

“Oh.” She blushes and puts it back into her dresser.

He gets on the bed with her and pulls her close to his chest. His fingers run up and down her back lightly, causing goosebumps to raise on her skin. She rests one of her legs on top of his, and wraps her arm around his torso. She wasn’t sure if she’d have the energy to fuck him again so soon, especially when the rhythm of his heart beat was lulling her to sleep. Her eyes flutter closed. He looks down at her and smiles when he sees her lips parted. He kisses the top of her head, and slowly falls asleep himself.

//

The next morning, Y/N wakes up cozy, head stuffed into her pillow, blankets wrapped around her. It was darker than usual. Her eyes flutter open and see the rain falling down. She hears it tapping delicately against her windows. It was a normal Sunday morning, or it would have been if she hadn’t completely forgotten there was a warm body wrapped around her. She rolls over slowly not to disturb the stranger. She gasps to herself when she sees it really is Harry Styles, not just some guy that looked like him. She really took him home with her and she really fucked him. He pulls her closer to her and she sighs.

“Your bed’s comfy.” He mutters.

“Thanks, I’ve got one of those foam pads under the sheets. Makes a world of difference.”

She feels his chest rumble as he chuckles. She feels him press a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling away slightly.

“Mind if I grab a shower?”

“Not at all.” She smiles up at him. “If you don’t mind smelling like my fruity shampoo, that is.”

“You’re funny.” He chuckles again and stretches as he sits up. He rubs his eyes, and gets out of the bed. Y/N couldn’t help but ogle his naked body as he walks away. He pops his head out of the door frame to look at her. “Are you coming?”

“Oh…you wanted me to-“

“Obviously.” He scoffs. “Wouldn’t mind fucking you again, either.”

Normally she’d wrap herself in a blanket, but if he was going to be bold, then so was she. So she gets out of bed and struts over towards him. She brushes her teeth quickly as he uses some mouth wash. She gets the water in the shower going.

“Does that head detach? I don’t know if I can crouch for that long.” He laughs.

“Yeah, it comes right off, don’t worry.” She pulls back the curtain and they both get in.

She helps him wash up, scrubs her nails over his head as she washes out the shampoo, and once they’re both clean, he hoists her up against the wall, and kisses her. She was plenty wet for him, and he smiles against her as he slips a finger inside her.

“You were ready f’me, hm?”

“Guess so.” She nips at his bottom lip, which delights him.

“Mind if I just slip it in like this and pull out after?”

“That’s fine.” She smiles. “Wouldn’t mind actually being able to feel you.”

“Christ.” He groans, and then pushes his hard cock inside her. Her head rolls back against the tile as his lips attack to her throat.

It was a nice, passionate morning fuck. When they’re done she gets him a towel, and wraps one around herself. He watches as she runs around to make her bed back up. It was a small apartment, so any clutter just made it look even smaller. He grabs his phone out of his pants pocket, and sighs.

“Alright?” She asks, sitting on the edge of her bed. He comes to sit down next to her.

“Yeah, just a ton of missed calls and texts. Thought I made it pretty clear to Jeff I wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel last night.”

“Do you have a plane to catch or anything?”

“Not today, tomorrow though.”

She watches as he types away to respond to the dozen or so texts he had form various people.

“Would you like any coffee or anything? Juice?”

“Just a black coffee would be perfect if it’s not too much trouble, love.”

“Coming right up.”

His eyes flicker up to watch her bum and hips sway as she walks into the kitchen area. She fills up her Keurig to get his coffee going.

“No cream or sugar, just black?”

“Please.” He smiles. “Thanks.”

She nods and gets a mug down from her cabinet to place under the machine. She thinks he’s talking to her for a moment, but when she looks over she can see he’s on the phone.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’m well aware, thanks.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m allowed to go out and have some fun.” He crosses a leg over the other so he can rest his elbow on his thigh, propping his chin up with his palm. “She’s making me a cup of coffee, is that alright? No, I don’t just carry those in my back pocket…” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll take care of it. Alright, bye.”

She comes over to him with a mug for him, and one for herself. She added a bit of cream to hers. She just couldn’t do black coffee.

“Thank you so much, feel like I’m about to get a headache.” He says, taking the mug from her, smacking his lips after he takes a sip.

“I have some aspirin if you need some.”

“Caffeine should work just fine, but thank you.”

“So, uh, not that I was listening in or anything, just, small space and all, but what don’t you carry around in your back pocket?”

“Oh.” He chuckles. “An NDA, that’s all. Jeff’s gonna email one over to me any second I’m sure.”

“What do you need an NDA for?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you.”  She looks at him deeply confused. “I’m a very private person, and not that I think you’re the type to go around spouting your business, it’s just, well, you’re a fan and…”

“You need me to sign an NDA so I won’t tell anyone we fucked?”

“Basically, yeah. Sorry if that makes things a little awkward. It’s just to keep my personal life personal, that’s all.” He takes another sip of the coffee. “This is really good, what brand is this?”

“Green Mountain Coffee…it comes from Vermont.”

“It’s delicious, I’ll have to look into it.” He smiles, although she can tell she’s starting to feel uneasy. She’s painfully aware that this was just a drunk hookup, a one night stand. “Are you alright?” He puts a hand on her knee.

“M’fine, just a bit groggy.” She sips her own coffee.

“Well, I’m starved, you’ve gotta be too, right? What a good place to grab some breakfast around here?” He stands up and starts looking for his clothes.

“Um…there’s a place right down the street.”

“We’ll have to take a cab unless you have a really big umbrella.” He smirks as he pulls his boxers on.

“Do I have to sign an agreement saying I won’t talk about breakfast too, or?”

Harry sighs as he pulls his pants on. She looks at him as she sips her coffee.

“Guess I’ll find out when I read the fine print.” She stands up and walks back over to her kitchen area. He follows her there with his mug and sticks it in the sink.

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“It’s not, I just…I mean…what do you think I’m going to do? Go onto a blog and spill every detail about last night? As if I could remember every little thing.” She scoffs and rinses out her mug.

“You easily could. You have to understand, sometimes when stories slip or people feel like they know things about you, it’s harder to get deals or make business decisions. I want to be taken seriously, so I don’t post personal things on social media, and I have the people I hook up with sign NDA’s.”

“Well, maybe I should have you sign one for me then.” She says, crossing her arms. He raises an eyebrow at her. “How do I know our night together won’t be inspiration for your next love scenes? You’re quite descriptive in your works. You must take from real life when you’re writing those things.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll text Jeff and have him email me two, one for each of us. I won’t talk about you and you won’t talk about me. Now, can we please go get some breakfast?”

“Why do you even want to go anywhere with me if you’re so scared of people finding out?” She walks over to her dresser to pick out an outfit she wouldn’t mind getting wet in the rain.

“It’s one thing to be seen with someone at a diner, it’s another to have what you’re like in the bedroom aired out to millions of people.”

“It’ll be obvious we slept together. My neck is littered with kiss marks.” She taps over one of the spots. He watches as she wriggles a pair of panties up her legs, and then a pair of jeans. “You’re also wearing your clothes from last night.” She tosses him his button up.

“I don’t suppose you have a large t-shirt I could throw on?”

“I’m sure I could find one.” She find a bra and t-shirt of her own, and then rummages through her pajama drawer for one of her larger bed shirts. “Here.” She hands him the shirt. He puts it on and looks down at it.

“Cute.” He smiles. “You can keep mine, and I’ll keep this one, how’s that sound?”

“Guess I’m just glad that’s not my favorite one.” She grabs her raincoat and umbrella. She furrows her brows and then remembers where her rubber boots on. “Could you order an uber or something?”

“Sure.”

They get down to the street, and head into the car he ordered. The diner was busy when they got there, but since it was just the two of them, they didn’t have to wait long to be seated. Harry’s phone pings with the email from Jeff.

“So…I just need to digitally sign it?”

“Mhm.” He hands his phone over to her so she can read over everything. He rests his chin on his palm. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone read over it so diligently before.”

“I’m a lawyer.” She mumbles.

“No shit.” He sits up, suddenly even more intrigued with her. “Good for you.”

“Well, I’m in law school, and I work as a para at a law firm, but I’m getting there.” She says as she uses her finger to sign her life away. “I’d like to read the one he sent to you for me.”

“Just swipe to the next email.”

She nods and looks it over. It was the same as her. She hands him back his phone and watches him sign it.

“I’d like both copies emailed over to me.”

“Alright, what’s your email?”

“I’ll put it in.” She takes his phone back and puts her information in, sending herself the copies. “There.” She crosses her arms. “Happy?”

“Yes, actually.”

A waitress comes over to them, and they both order scrambled eggs with bacon, potatoes, and toast. It’s quiet between them for a few moments. She looks out the window to watch the rain fall, and then looks back at him. He was twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He looks up at her.

“What am I doing here with you? You could have easily slipped out this morning, even last night…”

“I’m not that kind of guy.”

“So…what is this, a consolation before we never see each other again?”

“No.”

“Then what is this?! I feel like I’m not even looking at a real person. I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, and I would have killed for the opportunity to sit down and have breakfast with you. I have so many questions about your work, and-“

“So, ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me all your questions. What can I answer that I haven’t already in an interview? You wanna know my thought process? Where and what I get inspired by? How long it takes me to write a book, a chapter even? I only have bullshit answers, to be honest. I keep notes on my phone for when I get inspired, and then when I’m able to be at my computer I’ll type for hours without stopping. It’s like I blackout or something. It feels like I didn’t even take a second to blink. I’ll work on multiple projects at the same time too. I have three other books I’m currently working, all with completely different topics and characters. I can’t shut my brain off, ever. I don’t know why I’m like this. Even when I go on a vacation to unplug, I have to keep a notebook with me to write things down. I started writing because I just needed to get everything out of my head. I feel a huge sense of relief when I’m done with a piece so I can just move on from it. I had to start my own publication because my content was going to be put in the same category as Fifty Shades, and I didn’t want that. Luckily, Jeff went to school for PR, and he helped me out, and now he’s my manager. He’s the best there is, but sometimes it would be nice to fuck a pretty girl and take her to breakfast without having to worry about every little thing.”

Before Y/N can respond their food is brought over. They both thank the waitress. She picks her for up and plays with her potatoes before looking at him.

“Not to mention, said pretty girl told me how much my work means to her, how it helps her sleep at night. Fuck, I mean, I thought I was going to melt into a fucking puddle right there. My anxiety gets bad at night too, I knew exactly where you were coming from, babe. I can’t tell you how many nights I try to go to sleep and can’t, so I just get up and go back to my computer until I pass out in my chair.” He blinks at her, as she still says nothing. “Are you…not going to say anything?”

“I’m not sure what to say, I’m trying to take in everything you said and match it to the person you were yesterday at that signing. It’s an act, right? Your cool demeanor?”

“I have a stage presence for sure.” He sighs, and takes a bite of his bacon. “What am I gonna do, get up there and tell everyone that the fourth book took so long because I had to have surgery for carpal tunnel?”

“For someone who likes to be so private, you’re sure telling me a lot of personal things.”

“You signed something saying you wouldn’t discuss any of this, so I feel a little freer to explain myself. Have I totally ruined your perception of me? Is this a never meet your hero sort of moment?”

“Not at all.” She smiles. “You seem comfortable with me, which is nice. I like that I’m seeing this side of you, you’re more than just the suave guy I’ve seen in interviews, or listening to on podcasts. You’re a person, just like me.”

“Exactly, so you understand why I might want some privacy.”

“I do.” She nods and finally takes a bite of her food. “I’m sorry if I got a little pissy about it.”

“Don’t be, it’s always an awkward conversation to have.”

“So, how many women do you hook up with exactly? You’re making yourself sound like a player.” She chuckles.

“I mean…I’m a guy who has needs. I’m not gonna lie, I probably do it a little too much, but I don’t usually spend this much time with the person, or if I do…well…it’s not usually like this.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to actually have a conversation with you.” He shrugs. “You peaked my interest.”

“Clearly.” She smirks.

“At least I’ve never rubbed one out to the thought of a famous person.” He smirks back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you consider yourself famous?” She grins at him. “And I haven’t rubbed one out, it’s usually just a dream. Don’t flatter yourself, Harry.” She shakes her head.

“My bad, so I’ll just assume you get that wet for every guy you hook up with?”

Where was this conversation going, and why was it happening in such a public place? Was he trying to rile her up?

“I don’t think this is appropriate to talk about right now.” She whispers harshly.

He smirks and continues eating. They look at each other occasionally as they eat. The waitress comes over with the bill, and Harry throws some cash down on the table.

“Let me pay the tip at least.” She says, reaching for her purse.

“Don’t be silly, I put plenty down for the tip. I’ve got it.” He puts his hand over hers. “Seems like the rain’s stopped, wanna walk back?”

“Do you not need to be anywhere?”

“Nope.” He smiles. “Today’s my free day, isn’t that nice? I’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow morning, and that’s all I have to worry about. So, I’m more than happy to walk you back home.”

She nods and follows him out of the diner.

“So, do I only get your email, or do I get your number too?”

“Why, so you can hit me up whenever you’re in the city?”

“Precisely.” He nudges her as she laughs. “Come on, I gave you mine.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t even look…I would have been so embarrassed, you would have forgotten all about me. I don’t even know if I would have even had the courage to message you.”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten you.”

“Did you manager know you just gave your number out like that?”

“God no, he’d murder me.” Harry chuckles. “Jeff’s great, but he’s way too serious.”

“So, maybe I’ll message you sometime.”

“I prefer chatting on the phone, to be honest.”

“Why’s that?”

“Anyone can send a text, but a phone is, like, I don’t know, it’s romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“Yeah, like, a phone is something you really need to make time for.”

She pouts at him and looks at him with big eyes. They stop once they’re in front of her building.

“I come back to the city in two weeks, I really would like to see you again.”

“What are you coming back for?”

“Another signing. This one sold out, and I felt bad. I think anyone who wants to see me should.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have anything that I do if it weren’t for the people who supported me.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiles. “Okay, I guess we could see each other again.”

“Great, just make sure you call me, okay? Then I can call you, and we’ll just be two people calling each other sometimes.” He blushes.

“Why are you so romantic?” She laughs and wraps her arms around his waist.

“I wish I knew. It’s a blessing and a curse, I think.” He sighs and cups her cheeks. He leans in and kisses her, she happily kisses him back and pulls him closer.

“Do you, um, need to go back to your hotel now?”

“Not necessarily, what’d you have in mind?” He raises an eyebrow at her. She leans up and whispers in his ear, making his cheeks grow hotter. He looks at her, a little stunned. “I definitely have time for that.”

“I figured you would.” She winks at him and yanks him into her building.

She wasn’t ready to let go of him just yet. Everything still felt like a dream, only better. Even when Harry had to go off to his next signing, she slept better than she ever had. She called him late one night, much to his surprise, and they spoke for hours. She didn’t have to listen to the same words over and over to fall asleep, she had him, the real him.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

[crystalkleure]

I have a Concept.

BeyBurst beyblades are supposed to burst. As in, it’s actually a necessity. In spite of the Exploding Beyblade mechanic potentially causing sharp little bits of spintop to go flying everywhere and hit people, what if it’s actually a safety feature?

If I recall correctly, all the way back in s1 territory [specifically in the manga though, can’t remember if we saw it in the anime or not], Valt and Shu just straight-up got their original beys from a store. And there are also all of those Unimportant Characters running around with different-coloured versions of preexisting beys. This indicates that beyblades are, in fact, mass-produced and sold in stores, and those are all built to be able to burst. In fact, I still haven’t seen the newest two seasons of the Burst anime yet, but I’m pretty sure super special fancy custom beys, that some important character explicitly made themself, that have some really creative [and strong] anti-burst features built into them, don’t ever show up as NPC recolour beys? In spite of the trend of “random background characters in new season use recoloured versions of Prominent Character beys from LAST season” to me seeming to indicate that those new recolour beys are either bootleg copycats, or those actual official shelf models have just suddenly started selling really well, due to someone having just recently done something cool with one in a tournament/on TV lol. [Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong on which beys get NPC recolours, I don’t exactly actually, uh, pay attention to all the random background scrubs. That point’s not particularly important anyway because I’m sure unofficial bootlegs are a thing that exists, mmmm delicious plagiarism. The point is the stores seem to sell beys with the normal level of burstability. And so I’m only caring about the everyday random NPCs with no names or anything, if another important character specifically goes and painstakingly recreates a bey similar or identical to another important character’s bey just because they idolize that other character, that doesn’t count. That’s not important here, implication-wise.] So...

What if it’s actually a really bad thing that people keep making their own custom beys now that are increasingly more and more ludicrously difficult -- or even near-impossible -- to burst?

What if the self-destruct mechanic is intended to be an emergency shutdown switch, and actually really needs to not be subverted? We’ve seen what an adept beyblader can do while running at full-throttle -- they’re dangerous, to themselves and their surroundings. Beys have the power to be obscenely destructive...while they’re spinning and battling, primarily. They are by far the most potent while actively in use. But if they hit things too hard like 3-4 times or so...they burst. Their locks disengage, they fall apart, and thus they are forced to abruptly stop. That makes them theoretically incapable of just rampaging indefinitely.

Picture this: One day, in the probably-decently-distant history of the BeyBurst world, a kid has a spintop. Probably made that spintop themself. This kid, it turns out, happens to be one of the Super Special Powerful Kids, who’s not only REALLY GOOD at using that spintop, they also possess that funny little supernatural ability to accidentally create an incredibly powerful incorporeal monster ghost creature thing with their brain. And because they love playing with their little spintop so much, that spintop becomes the vessel for this Terrifying Monster-Shaped Culmination Of Spiritual Elemental Energy or whatever that they’ve manifested. That’s...good, probably, because at least that means the Scary Monster Thing isn’t 1. just stuck in the kid’s brain with nowhere else to go, which would lead to possession that would decidedly be incredibly difficult to deal with without harming the kid, or 2. funneled into something more dangerous to control, like a car or a nuclear warhead or some shit. But then it turns out that the kid is ABSOLUTELY still able to wreak impressive havoc and cause Large Amounts Of Destruction, even accidentally...until the spintop stops spinning. The Power Level drops dramatically as soon as the demon top is still, and it takes a little while for it to build back up once it’s launched again. But what if a feature is implemented into the spintop that allows it to keep spinning for much, much longer? Or just The Supernatural Monster Power itself becomes capable of sustaining it, through wind manipulation or something?

Now, imagine you’re idk, the government or something, someone with Power and Influence over the masses, and you see THAT happen. Shit, that was just a random kid that did that! Looked like any other kid, acted like any other kid! There is no feasible way to tell a kid with Brain Monster potential apart from other kids who are NOT That Powerful, until a brain monster happens. So, if you can’t predict it, and thus can’t do anything to mitigate the potential destruction on a case-by-case basis...well, how about you convince ALL the little kiddies that spintops are just the greatest thing ever, everyone should play with spintops, AND you ensure those spintops are mass-manufactured specifically to not be able to Hold A Charge for too long because...they burst! You’ve designed them so that violence itself causes them to fall apart and stop to cool down! It’s perfect! That way, anytime an odd mutant child with Brain Monster powers comes along, the chance of them funneling their Brain Monster into their spintop is now Very High, meaning that all the Brain Monsters will hopefully end up inhabiting these little plastic toys that actively inhibit them instead of possessing children or nukes. It’s brilliant!

This does raise some questions, though:

1. What happens when someone’s spintop breaks, and they DON’T get it repaired, after they’ve already manifested a Brain Monster to live in it? Where would the Brain Monster go in that case? Uh oh, demon on the loose? Exactly what we were trying to avoid? Shu’s change between Legend Spriggan and Spriggan Requiem in God does seem to indicate that the Brain Monster probably 1. by default, does just camp out in its blader’s brain until a new Spintop Vessel is created for it, and 2. the Brain Monster itself is probably not actually completely strictly sealed into any bey, because it doesn’t disappear as soon as the bey is destroyed, and it doesn’t stay with an old/broken bey that’s been discarded when a new bey has been made for it. Legend Spriggan was discarded and left on the riverbed, and Spriggan Requiem was then made from scratch, seemingly using no recycled physical parts from Legend Spriggan, but Spriggan Requiem’s bitbeast looks only very slightly different from Legend Spriggan’s. All of Shu’s Spriggans are honestly probably still the same creature, just progressively evolved. I don’t think we’ve ever seen somebody make an entirely NEW Brain Monster that does not resemble their original one, it seems the original simply gets developed more and more. One person apparently only possesses the ability to make a single individual Brain Monster. You Get One (1), but you can upgrade it. But what about Hearts? His Dead Hades, which very much had a Brain Ghost in it, was not only destroyed, but assimilated into Phi’s Revive Phoenix, to make Dead Phoenix. What happened to that situation, over time? We haven’t gotten to see. Is Hearts’ Hades truly actually fused with Phi’s Phoenix, ceasing to be its own entity anymore, or does Phoenix simply very slightly resemble Hades now due to its bey being upgraded with physical bits of Hades’ bey? What if it’s not even POSSIBLE to truly fuse Brain Ghosts, especially without consent? In which case...is Hades itself just lingering around back in Hearts’ brain, waiting for a new bey to inhabit, and Hearts isn’t making one because he doesn’t realize Hades isn’t just Part Of Phoenix now? That sounds potentially dangerous, there’s no more outlet for your Brain Ghost, buddy. I want to see Phi and Hearts again, to know what eventually happened there.

2. Why do the tournaments not actually enforce a rule that says “Your bey HAS to be able to be reasonably burstable”? Chouzetsu Wings and the Mugen Lock System did not equal disqualifications. Has it maybe, over time, been forgotten exactly WHY we Need Beys To Burst? Well, that’s a ticking time bomb, then. How difficult a bey is to burst does seem to directly cause its Potential Destructiveness Levels to scale accordingly. [With somewhat of an exception of Pot and his Pegasus, but it should be noted that Pot was not exactly terribly serious about beyblade initially and yet was STILL considered one of the strongest ‘bladers in the world, GT3 iirc, AND he’s very into the whole “Love and light, chillax, be in-tune with yourself and all the energy in and around you, etc.” peaceful thing.] This HAS To Be A Problem. Why is nobody concerned.

3. ...What is causing the general public not to panic about this? Why are people okay with Brain Ghost and Mass Spintop Destruction happening, instead of terrified? This shit is broadcast on TV. The stands during tournaments are packed with spectators. It may be that perhaps not everybody can SEE the Brain Ghosts themselves [and I’m skeptical about that, because there have absolutely been MANY indications that other people know what someone’s bitbeast looks like], but the Big Bada Booms they cause are DAMN sure Highly Visible. Aiga’s father seems to be the only one truly properly concerned about the incredible mass-destructive potential of the spintops. Realistically, The Salem With Trials 2: Electric Boogaloo should be happening due to the Scary Spintop Kids being Fucking Scary, and sometimes quite clearly even out-of-control of themselves.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is not a direction canon will ever go in, or I think it would have already done it. I don’t think they’re going to explore this route. It’s a shame I don’t have the chops for writing long-haul fanfiction, because if I did I would absolutely be hardcore capitalizing on this idea. This has incredible Worldbuilding Lore Potential.

#Someone else write a huge fanfic about it so I can read it #BeyBurst #Beyblade Burst #CK's headcanon #CK dissects #I am super not sure what to tag this as because it's so hypothetical but also a solid argument could be made for plausibility here #Also excuse my incoherency I just woke up and finally had to put this concept into words immediately #Long post

[dynyamight]

Hello! Could you do this one :

192 - You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

Thanks ☺☺

192. You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

“My, you’ve grown so tall and handsome, Katsuki! I can barely recognize you!”

Bakugou shrugs stiffly, hands deeply shoved in his pockets. “..Evenin’, Auntie.”

“Hurry, hurry!” Inko quickly beckons him inside the apartment, with frantic hand motions. “The cold air will get you sick the longer you stand out there.”

After a few tentative steps inside, and offering a mumbled pardon of intrusion, Bakugou makes a look around the small home.

God, everything looked eerily the damn same.

The miniature sofa, the kotatsu, the TV airing the local news, the rickety old dining table, in the same faded wood color just like before. The kitchen, probably looks the same, too.

Nothing new.

And, oddly enough, Bakugou was glad. Familiarity was very much needed, right now.

“Let me take your coat, dear.” Inko shushes quietly, right beside him. When Bakugou twists his head down, he looks to see her offering a soft smile.

Something in his chest clenches. “Nah, s’fine.” He coughs, struggling to meet her gaze. “..We’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

“You know, that’s what you always told me, back when you two were kids.” Inko voices gently, “Waiting at the front door. Ready to head out, as soon as Izuku stepped out.”

“It warms my heart to see you two together.” She says, gazing at him, with that same comforting expression she used to give him long ago.

The inside of his palms are damp, sweating nervously. All he can offer is a quick nod of acknowledgment, without losing his cool in front of her.

Sure, they weren’t close before, but Inko only remembers him as that child. The one that was her son’s best friend. The one that knocked at her front door, jumping in his sneakers excitedly. The little boy who guided her son out of her home, and brought him back, safe and sound.

And, the same guy who was once the source of all of her beloved son’s distress, turmoil, and torment.

He hopes Midoriya has told her redeeming things about him, now that she knows that part. Because, there’s no way in hell he can sell himself any better.

A door to the right of the hallway opens in that instant.

With his back turned away from them, Midoriya steps out in an obnoxious All Might pajama set, barefooted.

He’s holding up two sweaters, dangling from each hand. “Mom!” He calls out towards the dining room, “Which one looks better? Yellow or red?”

“I can’t tell, Izuku.” Inko states easily, “Turn around.”

Doing a double take, Midoriya pivots in his stance, almost tripping over the long pants. “Oh, when did you get behind-?”

Midoriya’s face drops, before the shirts hit the floor.

Bakugou snorts, while Inko intently gazes at the fallen clothing. “I would think the burgundy one would look wonderful, sweetie.” She advises, regardless.

Quickly, Midoriya gathers and shoves his sweaters in his arms, and hurries back into his room, slamming the door shut. The click of a lock echoes, alongside a bunch of stressed, inaudible words.

“..You sure you don’t want me to take your coat?” Inko asks him. This time, there’s a knowing, small teasing expression on her face. “Izuku might take a while longer.”

Bakugou doesn’t wait for long, seated under the warming kotatsu. His drums his fingers on his thighs, here and there. And, the heat does get a little stuffy, while wearing black jeans and a turtleneck.

But, otherwise, it’s not intolerable. Inko had offered him plenty, during his wait; a hot mug of ginger and cinnamon tea, a small plate of cookie biscuits, and her silent, yet welcoming company. She even insisted on covering his shoulders with a large blanket, engulfing him completely.

“Anything for you.” Inko reassures him, despite having not voiced anything. “You have done so much to keep Izuku happy. It’s the least I can do.”

The overbearing politeness runs in the family, like a disease.

He feels he should thank her, or better yet, try to have a conversation with her. But, each time he builds up the internal guts to say something, the words get caught in his throat.

He wants to make sure he says the right thing to Midoriya’s mother. Unfortunately, he desperately wants her approval.

So, when Midoriya finally walks around the corner, in a nice pair of jeans and that same burgundy sweater from before, Bakugou’s relieved to say the least.

He feels saved.

“Now, the night is only getting colder, by the minute.” Inko hurriedly tells them, as the three of them walk to the front door, “This winter season has been terribly freezing! My heart can’t handle either of you catching the flu, let alone both of you! So, try to make it home not only safe, but healthy. Oh, and if you are unable to catch the last train, please let me know! I will gladly-”

“It’s okay.” Midoriya reassures her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be okay.”

“I know, I know. Just please-”

“Call you when we’re on our way home.” Midoriya answers easily. “Yeah, I will.”

“..You promise?”

“I promise, Mom.”

They share a sweet, long embrace, which Bakugou can’t help, but look away.

Something about their close bond, and unashamed love for each other feels intrusive for him to be a part of.

Something that he doesn’t deserve to be a part of. At least, not yet.

Instead, he solely focuses on readjusting his winter coat over his shoulders.

On their languid walk towards the metro station, a few blocks away from the apartment complex, Midoriya slips his hand in his.

“You told me 20:00, Kacchan.” He whines, however.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “It was.” He corrects in a huff, “Until you fucking said I could drop by an hour early.”

“Wha—? When did I say that?”

“During our damn lunch break, yesterday.” Bakugou incredulously stares at him. “The hell? You were the one who came up to me and literally said it yourself. How your conference for today with the academy got cancelled. ”

For a moment too long, Midoriya stays silent, visibly mulling over the words in his head. Each quiet second makes Bakugou more internally baffled, downright shocked.

If it weren’t for Midoriya’s warm hand loosely holding onto him, he’d crackle a couple explosions, in spite.

“Oh. I did.” Midoriya breathes out laughing, bringing his other hand to his face. “I completely forgot.”

“Shitty Deku.” Bakugou grunts. “Starting the night off wrong, already?”

“Hey! Don’t go making me feel bad, Kacchan!” With pleading eyes, Midoriya looks up at him. “I didn’t mean to forget. School’s been hectic recently, and you know that.”

Those huge, bright green eyes. His kryptonite.

Bakugou clicks his tongue. “..Whatever. S’not like the wait was awful.”

“Oh god, I hope my mom wasn’t too much with you.” Midoriya messes with Bakugou’s fingers in between his, tightening and letting go of them.

“Not at all.” Bakugou lies.

Smiling, Midoriya lets out a big sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. If you two didn’t get along tonight, I might have had an aneurysm.”

“If you had to choose—” Bakugou starts.

Midoriya narrows his eyes. “Stop it.”

Bakugou scoffs, slipping out an air of mirth into it. “Obviously your mom.”

“Obviously, it would be too hard of a decision to make.” Midoriya corrects. “Hopefully that time never, ever, ever comes.”

Despite trying not to smile, Bakugou feels the traces of a smirk on the corners of his lips. “If that day ever happens, always pick Auntie.” He states easily, “Her heartbreak would be so fucking intense. Put all natural disasters to damn shame.”

With a small, slipped out laugh, Midoriya bumps their shoulders together, softened by their winter coats. “You are weirdly making sense, Kacchan.”

“Of course I’m making fucking sense. She cries over the thought of someone taking you away. Villain, or not.”

“Every mother is like that!”

“Hell, I’m damn surprised Auntie didn’t flip her shit from seeing me.” Bakugou honestly confesses finally, more to himself than to Midoriya. “Dating her one and only son, and she didn’t even freak out about it.”

And, just like that, Bakugou knows something is wrong, from the moment Midoriya stays quiet.

They continue to walk, despite the sudden tense mood between them. But, that doesn’t mean Bakugou doesn’t want to demand Midoriya to speak up, the longer he keeps his mouth shut.

But also, he doesn’t want to ruin their night, and so, he waits begrudgingly.

Right as the two are on the outskirts of the metro tunnel, Midoriya twiddles Bakugou’s fingers nervously.

“..I haven’t told her about us yet,” He admits, face morphed in guilt. “But, I mean, she could very easily guess our intentions tonight. So, maybe— I don’t know —she might know.”

Bakugou hums, allowing himself a few seconds to process that. He then breathes a long air through his nose. “..I figured.” He simply says.

“It’s not like I want to hide us.” Midoriya voices aloud, furrowing his brows. “It’s just with graduation coming up, and the academy still looking for an agency to accept me as anything, and then my father suddenly wanting to come back into our lives, she’s just been a little stressed with everything going on, including myself. And, I don’t want to potentially ruin us and-”

With a tight grip, Bakugou halts them to a sudden stop.

When Midoriya worriedly gazes at him, he offers him back a nod. “Yeah, I get it.” Bakugou firmly states.

“Kacchan, I-”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

And, he really means it.

While people bypass them, heading through the automatic doors of the metro station, they both remain standing, staring back at each other.

The first to break is Midoriya, releasing a big, tired sigh. “You’re right.” He frowns, looking away. “I’m totally ruining this date night. I’m sorry.”

Pulling his hand out of the hold, Bakugou instead brings his arms over Midoriya’s shoulders. He hugs them close. “No, you’re not.”

“I am.” Midoriya responds backs, muffled.

“We’ve been on more shit dates, Deku.” Bakugou tells him in his ear. “And, this ain’t one. It barely even began.”

“A whole year, and I—I haven’t even told her.” Midoriya shakingly admits. “I’m such a coward.”

Bakugou huffs. “You’re not. The talk ain’t easy. Hell, telling my hag and old man about us was like pulling teeth out of my damn mouth.”

“..At least you told them.”

“Listen, you went through a lot of shit, two years ago.” Bakugou reminds Midoriya, bluntly. “The running away. The dropping out. The undercover work. The public hate. Getting together after all fucking that, probably wasn’t even the best move.”

“I still remember it all.” Midoriya mumbles.

Bakugou tightens his hug. “And, since then, life’s been a total bitch to you. I fucking wish you didn’t get half the crap you have to deal with, because it runs you into a damn mess.”

“But, I—”

“So, just focus on the important shit, right now.” Bakugou breathes out, pressing his head against Midoriya’s. “Us? We can wait. No, I can wait. I’ll be right beside you, until then, and even after that.”

Lifting his arms up and around Bakugou’s back, Midoriya holds onto him, just as tight as him. “..You promise?”

Bakugou exhales a short sigh. “I promise, Izuku. We’ll be okay.”

Letting go, Midoriya gently pushes away from Bakugou’s grip, causing them to finally part, for who knows how long.

Before the secondhand embarrassment of people witnessing them sinks into his pride, Bakugou’s redirected to the watery eyes of Midoriya, as he quickly blinks them dry.

“God, when did you get so—?” Midoriya wildly moves his hands around, gesturing over at Bakugou.

On the other hand, Bakugou scrunches his nose. “The hell does that mean?”

“So supportive?” Immediately, Midoriya shakes his head. “No, you’ve been supportive, that’s not the right word. So kind? Uh, that doesn’t sound right..”

“You mean romantic.” Bakugou puts it bluntly.

A rush of red floods Midoriya’s face, matching his sweater and shoes. “Don’t say it so loud, Kacchan!”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you weren’t asking dumb ass questions!” Bakugou yells back, crossing his arms definitively. “We’re together, Deku! Of course I’m gonna tell you fucking sappy shit.”

“Shh! You are making us be a public scene!”

“Too late! We were a public scene the fucking moment we stopped in front of the damn metro like stupid lovers at the altar!”

It starts slow, with nothing, but Midoriya blinking up at him.

But then, a slipped sputter starts and a bubbling laughter erupts from Midoriya. He grabs onto Bakugou’s arm, helping him from not bending over in giggles.

“W-We really did!” Midoriya barely says, wheezing, “Lovers at an altar. A-And, you literally gave me vows!”

It takes Bakugou forcibly grabbing his idiotic, cackling boyfriend to finally move aside, and walk through the station’s entrance. He refuses to focus too much on the fire heating his face.

He’s never making outlandish, romantic gestures in public, ever again.

They missed their train, obvious from the lengthy moment they had outside. But, neither of them were upset about the ordeal. Instead, they gradly bought tickets for the next train to Tokyo, with only a thirty minute wait.

As Bakugou starts to shift comfortably in his bench seat, right beside him, Midoriya rests his head on top of his shoulder. “Thankfully, we still won’t miss the movie premiere.”

“Because your weird ass is making us leave hours before midnight.”

“For situations like these!”

Bakugou scoffs a short laugh. “I guess it’s reasonable.”

Grabbing his hand into a loose grip, Midoriya twiddles with Bakugou’s fingers once more. “Thank you. For tonight.” Midoriya whispers.

“You needed time to chill the fuck out. With the shit you’ve been facing, let tonight be the night you forget about it.” Bakugou grumbles, “Besides, I haven’t been able to steal you away, for my damn self.” He tacks on.

Midoriya smiles back at him, head comfortably slumped on his shoulder. “You make me feel alive, again. And, for the first time ever, since the start of this year,” He sighs, longingly up at Bakugou, “I feel like I can breathe.”

Bakugou brings him closer, chin tucked in his curls. “Good. I need you to breathe, at least once and a fucking while.”

Midoriya snorts. “Just at least once?”

“And, a fucking while.” Bakugou reiterates, “I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not.” Midoriya chuckles, bringing his legs over Bakugou’s lap. “You’re my monstrous boyfriend.”

“That’s fucking right.”

For a while, they stay just like that; close, intimate, and stuck together, without a care of the outside world. Maybe it’s from the intense conversation from earlier, but Bakugou doesn’t feel deterred to back away. Instead, he feels comfortable in holding Midoriya, and not letting go.

“You know,” Midoriya starts, “My mom wouldn’t freak out.”

Bakugou raises a brow. “..Hm?”

“About us. She wouldn’t freak or flip out like that.”

“C’mon, Deku.” Bakugou scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta lie to me, now.”

“I’m serious.” Midoriya reaffirms strongly, emphasizing his words with a tightened grasp around his hand. “She wouldn’t.”

“I’m not the type of guy you bring to your damn family. Seeing me as anyone’s partner is like fucking failing at life.”

Midoriya brings a tentative hand, cupping the side of Bakugou’s face. His fingertips are rough, yet linger there softly. “Just promise her you’ll make me happy and keep me safe.” Midoriya states easily, smiling brightly. “And, she’ll welcome you with open arms, all over again.”

#star responds #okay sooo idk which writing prompt this was for?? BUT I STILL THOUGHT THIS WAS CUTE #bkdk third years. bkdk established relationship. bkdk and inko #maaaan i literally let my fluff/hurt heart have it #i hope this is the time of soft bkdk you want !! #ayae-02 #bakudeku #FICLET

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 21: Infection

CW: sick whumpee, abdominal pain, medical whump, emeto mention, nausea mention, pet whump references, recovering whumpee, fever, sickfic

TIMELINE: Chris’s first year after rescue

Nat makes the call, her jaw set in a grim line as she puts her phone up to her ear, and Jake has never seen the laugh-lines and crow's-feet wrinkles as clearly as he does in the dim yellowed light from the single lamp in the corner. 

"We can't do this," Jake says, softly, but he's outvoted by sheer necessity and he knows it, he knows before the protest ever leaves his mouth. It doesn’t stop his heart from racing, dread pooling deep inside him. "Nat, we can't, he isn't-... they’ll turn him in, Nat, god damn it-"

"Hey," Nat says into the phone, ignoring Jake entirely. "It's me. Yeah. I'm calling you for help." 

Next to Jake, lying on the couch while the big man balances himself seated precariously on the coffee table, Chris whines weakly in pain, pressing the back of Jake's hand to his clammy, sweat-soaked forehead. Coppery hair sticks to him, soaked the color of old pennies. 

Jake half-expects to see the blue-green tarnish growing and taking over.

"Hurts," Chris whispers, and Jake's heart breaks open. They didn't know - Chris had collapsed this morning, thrown up his breakfast and then blacked out in the bathroom, it was the first they'd seen of his illness.

Only when he'd been bundled down here to the couch, temp taken - 102 degrees Fahrenheit, holy fuck, he’d been fine yesterday, right? - had Chris admitted he'd been hurting for two days, a pulsing pain around his navel that felt like it was taking over his whole right side now. He told them he’d been so scared they would make him take medicine again that he hadn't told anyone. 

When Chris pointed to the right side of his stomach and said that it hurt there, and it kept getting worse... that was when Nat had given that serious, firm nod, said Dr. Masood couldn't help them this time, and picked up the phone. 

"Nat, he still has his barcode, they'll fucking turn him in-"

"My money’s on appendicitis," Nat says flatly into the phone. Her eyes move to Chris, lips thinning at his pale skin, freckles and two bright red splotches standing out on his cheeks, the way his green eyes are glassy, hazy, lost until the pain spikes and they briefly clear, just enough for him to start crying again. "Guarantee it. I can't use our guy." A pause. "Listen, he's eighteen - I think - and was routinely subjected to dehydration, starvation, and sleep deprivation. His medical care inside isn’t exactly nothing, but... this is appendi-fucking-citis and that motherfucker is going to burst if we don't get someone to cut it out of him ASAP. I don't have the time to waste going back and forth on this with you. Take one fucking look at him and you’ll know it!"

Nat never swears like this, with such intense hostility and insistence. Chris tightens his grip on Jake, and moans, frightened, turning to look up at him with wide green eyes far too big for his pinched expression. “S-sorry, I’m, I’m sorry… ‘ll... ‘ll b’good...” 

The plaintive haunted fear and hurt in him makes Jake wish there were an enemy, someone he could fight. Sitting here watching Chris get sicker by the hour, able to do absolutely nothing about it, is so much worse than anything else ever has been. 

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs, stroking over his hair, carding his fingers gently through the damp, sweaty strands. “She’s not mad at you, little man, I swear. You’re sick and she’s trying to get help, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fuck those motherfuckers who made you too scared of pills to tell us you were hurting.

"Jake-" Chris starts, and then stops, swallows as his face goes a little green around the edges and he tenses, whimpering, torn between nausea and the way muscles tensing makes him hurt even worse. Jake watches his internal battle written openly across his expression. Tears slip from his eyes, running down his cheeks, as he chokes back a sob. "It, it, it hurts so much... Jake, I, I need… I could take, take, could… could could could take something now."

Jake nods and starts to move but Nat puts up a hand. "No drugs," She says, quietly. "They'll give him something there to put him under. We don’t want anything to interact badly.”

“Nat-”

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice firm and calm. “But nothing until my contact has him.”

“Who is your fucking contact, anyway?”

Nat gives Jake a small, tired smile. “Not yet, Jake. Have to keep these things under wraps.”

"Mom, please," Chris pleads, and Jake and Nat both turn to look at him, shocked, eyes wide. "Mom, it, it, it… It hurts!"

Neither of them says anything at first, and Chris stares at them, eyes pleading but far away. It isn’t them he sees at all.

“Nat-”

“Just go with it,” She says, and goes back to the phone.

“Please, Mom-” Chris whimpers.

"Sorry, we can't," Jake whispers, fighting back the burn of hot tears himself as he goes back to stroking through Chris’s hair. Guilt twists inside him, sharp as any knife. Being helpless is tearing him apart.

Chris’s eyes move, lock on Nat, struggle to maintain their focus, go hazy again. His flush is layered over a gray-green paleness that makes him look like a corpse with makeup, pouring sweat that doesn’t cool him down at all. “Mom, please, please help me, please… don’t, don’t, don’t let them take you out, out of my head, Mom, please!”

Nat listens to the voice on the other end of the phone. Her eyes glimmer and her jaw is starting to tremble where she has it locked, visible in the low warm light coming from the lamps, but her voice stays steady. "No. Yes. Yes, that’s him you’re hearing. Yes… 102.3- yes, I'm sure. Fifteen minutes ago, more or less. Abdominal pain - he even said he thought it was a stomachache at first. Fever. Nausea, vomiting, yes. Getting worse and moving down and to the right. Yeah, I know. So how do we keep my rescue safe without the solution being to sit here and watch him die from infection?"

Jake ignores the cold fear that squeezes bony fingers around his heart and wipes Chris's forehead with a cool wet cloth. 

"Mom, m'sick," Chris whispers. "No, no school. Please, please…" His eyes track blearily over Jake's face. "Dad, tell her. Tell, tell, tell-... tell her m’sick…”

"I know," Jake says quietly, his voice shaking and thin. Nat is speaking softer now, lightning-fast whispers with her contact, somebody she's worked with for years with the hospital. "I know, Chris. We’re going to take you to see a doctor, okay?”

Chris blinks at him once, twice, and then his eyes are gone, shifting away. His lower lip starts to tremble, jerking fast, shallow breaths, nearly panting. “I’ll be, be, be-be, be good, don’t… don’t hurt me, sir, I’ll… I’ll be good.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” Jake can’t listen to this much longer. “I know you will.” Chris’s voice is small, losing all his sense of himself. Timid, scared, sweet.

“Be good… can, um, can, can be good f-for… you…” Chris whispers, eyes closing, new tears run out the corners as he whimpers and curls up against the pain. “Just, just stop… hurting me… b-be good, handler, good for, for, for you...”

Jake’s stomach flips and he has to fight the bile trying to rise in his throat. “Nat-”

“Hush, Jake.” Nat’s voice is still calm, and her attention is on the phone. "Mmhmmm. Christopher, um... say Yoder-”

“Stanton,” Jake says from the couch. 

Nat might smile. The expression is too tight, too pinched with worry, to really be called that. “Strike that. Christopher Stanton." Nat listens for a long time, then says quietly, "Eighteen…. We think. No known health problems or pre-existing illness. Autistic."

Jake looks up, blinking, and Nat calmly looks back at him, giving a firm nod while speaking into the phone. "Yes. Yes, I'm confident. He is sensitive to fluorescent lights, scared of needles, and terrified of sedation. Yeah, I realize that I just described the exact environment of a hospital.” Her voice starts to shift, then, and Jake watches her free hand close into a fist. She speaks with increasingly open anger, badly masking her worry and fear. “For the love of Christ, just put on the fucking papers that Christopher Stanton is fucking autistic, because that's what my goddamn rescue is and he still needs care - I'll sell someone else's firstborn to fucking Satan if he isn't autistic, god damn it, mark my fucking words - and we're wasting time goddamn dithering over whether you believe a diagnosis while he gets worse!"

Nat's voice rises, nearly shouting, and Chris whines and curls up closer to Jake, then winces and cries out in pain, straightening back out again. 

"Sssshhhhh, it's okay," Jake murmurs, but his heart is racing, too, his nerves are jagged with memories of swearing, shouting adults. Some part of him that has never stopped being a child braces for the sound of impact. "It's okay."

Nat is quiet for a long time, then snaps, "Yep, nope, I know, I know you needed to confirm," fast and angry. “See you then.” She hangs up, turning to look at Jake and Chris. "My contact is on their way. If the surgery works, two days and he's home. If his appendix bursts... Could be two weeks in the hospital, Jake."

"No," Jake says, lips barely moving. "No, Nat. Two weeks… he can't fake being someone else for so long."

"He better give it his best shot," Nat says, pushing herself to her feet. "I know this sucks, Jake, but sometimes what we do is make the hard choices they can’t make. And… and even if they turn him in, being turned in is better than dying."

Is it? Do you know that?

"What do we do, then?" Jake says, resting his hand on Chris's sweat-damp hair. Chris doesn't seem aware anymore, staring off into space, weeping silent tears and hitching soft sobs, promising in whispers to be good and obey his handler if only he’ll make the pain stop. “What’s the next step? Give me a fucking order, Nat, because I’m lost, and-” Jake gives a nervous, humorless laugh. “-I’m pretty fucking scared for him.”

"Yeah… yeah, I get that. Just pack some clothes and toiletries," Nat says flatly. "And prepare to swear on the fucking Bible to doctors and surgeons and fucking cops if we have to that his name is Chris Stanton and he's your little brother. We’re about to put on a show, Jake."

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not leaving him. You are going to be the most concerned and caring big brother the world has ever seen. When he gets out of surgery, you’re going to meet him in recovery, you’re going to stay with him in his room day and night. You’re there from day one until he walks back out the door.” Nat’s jaw is set again. “And he will be walking back out that door with us.”

“Visiting hours-”

“He can’t make his own medical decisions,” Nat says, leaning over a little, staring Jake right in the eyes. “So someone has to be there all the time. Do you understand me? He can’t.”

“He’s not-... he could, if he was a little further along-”

Chris whines, and his hand grabs weakly at Jake’s and squeezes. Jake can hardly feel it. 

“He’s not. Okay? He’s not that far into recovery yet. We’re going to pretend he’s a lot less capable than he is, to get him through this. We are going to pretend he can’t do it himself, because right now it’s not pretending, he wouldn’t remember what to do yet. And I feel like shit treating him like a toddler, Jake, I really do, but… but he can’t do this alone, and I can’t exactly tell them it’s because he was a pet and they’re trained to be dependent, now can I? We’re going to have to lie about his condition.”

“That wasn’t actually a lie, though, right? We do think he is actually-”

“Yeah. We do. But he’s not incapable - or he won’t be, once he’s older. That’s what we have to lie about. And I don’t-... right now I don’t give a shit about a damn thing except buying him more time to fucking grow up.”

"What about his barcode?"

Nat takes a deep breath. "My contact is going to bandage it over, say it was part of when he passed out and they’ve taken care of it and we're going to hope to Christ no one who they don't trust checks under it. We're out of options, Jake, unless you know how to do an appendectomy and you’ve just been holding out on me. I’m not prepared to do kitchen table surgery. Are you?"

There’s a pause while they stare at each other, and then Jake takes in a deep, steady breath.

You can do this. Chris needs you to do this.

"His name is Chris Stanton," Jake says, meeting her eyes, "and he's my little brother, and he's autistic. I’m his medical power of attorney, I make medical decisions when he’s incapcitated. He’s scared of hospitals because of bad childhood experiences and needs someone nearby at all times or he’ll lose it.”

Nat gives a terse nod. "Good. Pack your shit, and hope his fucking appendix hasn't burst while my contact dicked around." 

Nat went up the stairs like a lightning bolt, and Jake let out a shuddering breath. 

By the time they hear the ambulance pull up a few minutes later, sirens and lights carefully off, they're packed and ready to follow in Nat’s old truck.

Chris's fever is still rising. 

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whumptober2020 #no. 21 #infection #sick whumpee #sickfic #angry caretaker #referenced pet whump #box boy #box boy univers #box boy multiverse #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #infected #medical whump #sick whump #emeto mention #feverish whumpee #fever fic #fever #conditioning #trauma recovery #recovering whumpee #whump

[lovelucybradford]

I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time).  One

Tumblr’s hottest new Derek HalexOC fic is “I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time)”. Fueled by one too many rom-coms and the author’s thirst for Tyler Hoechlin, this fic has EVERYTHING: childhood friends to lovers, fake engagement, mutual pining, Derek Hale’s family alive and well, and SLOW BURN (oh so slow). 

One: get me with those green eyes, baby.

“Yo Rosie, you better go over there. Cinderella’s about to steal your man,” Stiles commented nonchalantly, sipping on a Coke from a paper cup. He was trying to hide his smile, but Rosalie could see right through him. 

 “Shut up, Stiles. He’s not my man.” Rosalie rolled her eyes, but didn’t stray her focus from Derek, Cinderella, and her niece, Charlotte. The young girl who was playing Cinderella couldn’t be older than twenty-one. (Way too young for the man.) Sure enough, she had her dainty hand on Derek’s bicep, likely commenting on his muscles. (That had happened with Ariel, an hour before. To which Rosalie thought that she’d be able to fill out those seashells much better.)

  Derek laughed, scratching the back of his neck—a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with all of the attention. It had been his tell for as long as Rosalie had known him—verging on twenty-five years, give or take the time that they’d spent apart in college and Rosalie’s four-year stint living with her father’s family in New York City (a mistake, big mistake).

 That had been a change; Derek used to eat up all of the attention from women when they were younger. A lot had changed with the two friends through the years; lovers had come and go, lessons learnt the hard way—but the one thing that hadn’t changed was their connection to each other. No one quite understood Rose the way that Derek did, and she’d like to think that nobody understood Derek like she did. 

 Charlotte pointed one blue-painted nail towards her aunt, and suddenly all eyes were on her. “Auntie Rosie! Come here!” she called loudly.

 Rosalie obliged, excusing herself from Lydia and Stiles to join Charlotte, Derek, and the princess. Cinderella smiled kindly at Rosalie, eyes briefly flicking up to her hair. She turned to Derek and asked, “Is this your princess?”

To which Rosalie flushed a bright shade of red. Cinderella was likely referring to Rosalie’s elaborate updo. Her red hair was covered in green glitter, complete with a sparkling, emerald-encrusted tiara. Charlotte, ever the shy child, had been nervous to go to the Bippity Boppity Boutique by herself, and convinced her aunt to play along. So, Rosalie had gotten the works, and Derek and Stiles teased her incessantly all day. She didn’t mind, really. She’d do anything for the kid, whether that be to sell her soul or literally become her childhood moniker.

Derek chuckled apprehensively and ducked his head. Charlotte answered for them both, giving Stiles Stilinski more fodder for his jokes.

“Yeah! This is my Auntie Rose. Uncle Derek calls her princess,” Charlotte smiled proudly. In the distance, Stiles guffawed, and Lydia leaned her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Likely hiding her own laugh, for Rosalie’s benefit.

Rosalie stumbled over her own words. “I…um…childhood nickname. Anyways, Char, do you want a photo so the nice people behind us get a chance to meet Cinderella, too?”

The four posed for the photo, Derek and Rosalie on either side of the princess and Charlotte, curtseying, in front. Lydia snapped a quick photo on her own phone and on Rosalie’s. Then, Rosalie graciously thanked Cinderella and the photographer, eager to get the hell out of the awkward situation.

Derek swept Charlotte up on to his shoulders, giving a polite nod before he turned to leave as well. Cinderella tapped him on the arm, and added, “Have a magical day! Your girlfriend is beautiful.”

Rosalie lost her footing at Cinderella’s words, almost crashing embarrassingly to the floor if it weren’t for Lydia’s supportive hand on her wrist. She let Lydia lead her out of the building, feeling quite lightheaded all of a sudden.

The sun had set in the near hour that they had waited to meet the princesses. The stars in the sky sparkled above, bringing a whole new sense of magic to ‘The Most Magical Place on Earth’.

“Oh my God, this picture is so cute. I’m def posting it on Instagram,” Lydia said, smiling down at her phone. She moved closer to her cousin so Rosalie could see the photo as well.

Rosalie cringed. “Um, no you’re not.” Charlotte looked adorable, as she always did. Rosalie, well—Rosalie looked exactly as she felt in that very moment. The pink in her cheeks perfectly matched the tapestry behind them, and she couldn’t blame that shade of red on a blossoming sunburn. And Derek—he looked like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed with a tight-lipped smile. Even when mortified he still managed to look gorgeous.

It hurt Rosalie’s heart just a little bit to think that Derek was mortified because someone thought they were together. But she buried that feeling once she saw Stiles saunter towards them, Derek and a chattering Charlotte in tow.

“Too late. I already did,” Lydia announced, lips tilting into a playful smile.

“Already did what?” Derek peeked over the women’s heads.

He groaned loudly, making Charlotte laugh. “Please tell me you didn’t just post that on Instagram. God, Laura’s never going to let me live this down.”

Rosalie tilted her head upward and smirked at her best friend. “Just wait until I tell her that you got hit on by Cinderella.” She laughed at Derek’s flared nostrils and pursed lips. He smacked her on the shoulder blade with the hand that wasn’t supporting Charlotte, who was clutching Derek’s black baseball-cap covered head with both little hands.

Charlotte tilted her head, befuddled. “What does ‘hit on’ mean?”

Rosalie and Derek stayed silent, neither one wanting to answer. Stiles replied for them, winking up at the little girl. “It means that Cinderella liked your Uncle Derek. Anywho, I’m thinking that we hit that Millennium Falcon ride.”

Rosalie checked her phone. “Can’t, Stiles. We have to head to dinner.”

Stiles sighed. “Please God, tell me your father won’t be joining us, Rosalie. I already have to deal with him for a whole week. If I have to spend more time with him than that, I might chop off my arm with a lightsaber.”

Lydia checked the map, and the group began their trek towards the restaurant.

“What’s Stiles talking about?” Derek asked as he hiked Charlotte further up his shoulders.

“The Martin Family Reunion,” Lydia commented, looking pointedly at Rosalie. Rosalie, who had forgotten all about it. And furthermore, forgotten about the little white lie she’d made when she RSVP’d. “A weeklong cruise hosted by Rosalie’s father.”

Lydia pursed her lips, green eyes flitting back and forth between her cousin and the path in front of her. “The one that Drew will be at… with his new fiancée, Ashleigh.”

The mention of the two made Rosalie sick. It had been a blow to Rosalie, when she’d seen that Instagram post on her sister’s profile. She was stupid to think that it couldn’t get worse than her ex and her sister sleeping together behind her back. Then they had to go and get engaged, a sure reminder to Rosalie that Drew, the one love of her life, would never really be gone from it.

“Gross,” Charlotte said. “Drew the Douchebag.”

Rosalie’s mouth gaped in repulsion. She glared scoldingly up at her niece. “Charlotte Marie Martin, who told you that?”

Charlotte had the nerve to not look guilty at all. She innocently smiled back at her aunt. “Daddy… and Uncle Derek.”

Rosalie turned her glare to Derek, whose shoulders were shaking, and not because of the weight of the five-year-old perched on them. “You’ve never even met Drew,” she hissed.

Derek kept his gaze straight forward. “I didn’t have to, not with what he did.”

“Can’t argue there,” Stiles chimed in, and Rosalie smacked him on the back of the head.

Derek stopped, and Rosalie thought he was going to apologize. Instead, he crouched down. “Ok, Charlie. Why don’t you walk with Auntie Rose for a while? Uncle Derek’s shoulders hurt.”

Charlotte clambered off of Derek and into the welcoming hand of her aunt. Rosalie couldn’t stay mad at Charlotte. It wasn’t her fault that Rosalie’s brother let things slip. Charlie just mimicked what her father said.

Rosalie didn’t speak the rest of the way. She was too angry with what Derek and her brother had been saying behind her back. (Even though she knew they spoke the truth.)

“Rosalie? Lydia?” came a call from behind the group. Rosalie didn’t have to turn around in her beach chair to know who it was. She shifted the sleeping little girl in her lap slightly so she could sink down in it, ducking her head.

Derek snorted a laugh. “What are you doing?” His stare flickered between Rosalie and Lydia (who was in a similar position in her own chair), green eyes full of amusement.

“I’m invisible. I’m not here. I don’t exist,” Rosalie whispered, eyes scrunched shut and wishing it into reality.

Derek crouched, meeting Rosalie’s line of sight. “Why are we hiding?”

“Shh!” she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “You remember my crazy Aunt Susie?”

“Your dad’s sister? The one who looks like the female version of Donald Trump?”

“Yes. Also known as the family gossip. She will undoubtedly say something shitty about Drew and Ashleigh’s engagement.”

Derek scoffed. “Fuck them.” As an afterthought, he added, “You know what, fuck her too.”

Rosalie swatted him on the forearm. “Children, Derek. There are children present.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it that loud… and the kid is asleep.”

“Yo Lydia, Rosalie, Derek. I’m back with the contraband.” Stiles weaved between chairs and the standing crowd, arms full of paper drink cups and soft pretzels.

Lydia kicked him in the shin. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles looked amused. “Why are you whispering?”

“Yoo Hoo! Rosalie Anne! Lydia Isabella! You can’t hide from your Aunt Susie!” Rosalie’s aunt yelled, words slurred with her southern drawl, and likely a bit of alcohol.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and he too ducked down. “Forget I asked.”

A slim, bony finger poked Rosalie on her bun-topped head. Aunt Susie shuffled around the chairs to stand in front of the group. With no escape in sight, Rosalie and her friends sighed and straightened themselves up.

“Oh, my,” Aunt Susie chirped, grabbing hold of both Rosalie’s and Lydia’s cheeks. “Look at how much you two have grown!”

Rosalie smiled kindly, as she was taught to do from a young age. She hoped if she obliged in conversation, then Aunt Susie would leave quicker and they could enjoy their night in peace.

Aunt Susie’s smile fell when her eyes swept over Lydia’s boyfriend. “And Steve…nice to see you again.”

Stiles scratched his chin, mumbling, “It’s um…Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

But Aunt Susie paid no mind. Her attention was completely on the man that sat to Rosalie’s left. Her eyes scanned him, seemingly sizing him up. Or checking him out. Likely the latter, Rosalie thought, knowing her aunt.

“Well, Rosalie. Who’s this?” she drawled, looking quite like a cat watching its prey.

Derek straightened out and forced a smile. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Derek Hale, ma’am.” Derek’s mother had instilled politeness in her son, even if he didn’t like the person. And Rosalie knew that Derek wasn’t fond of Rosalie’s father’s side of the family.

She took it, shaking too enthusiastically. A sense of recognition washed over her plump face, and her hand stilled. “Derek Hale… little Derek Hale? Why, you’ve grown, too. When was the last time I saw you? Ten years ago?”

Derek smirked, fire in his eyes. Rosalie prepared herself for the inevitable shit talking, already planning damage control. “Actually, it was fourteen years ago. At the second wedding of Jason Martin. When your brother married his mistress and left Rosalie, Levi, and Ms. Hart.”

Stiles snorted noisily, placing a hand over his mouth to cover up his laughter. Lydia cracked a smile, too. Rosalie kicked Derek, hard. Well, as hard as she could with a child still sleeping soundly on her lap.

Aunt Susie’s mouth opened and closed in shock, for once at a loss for words.

Charlotte woke at just the right time, deterring the awkward silence. She stretched and yawned loudly, then sat up in Rosalie’s lap. Her tiara was crooked, and her eye makeup was smudged, but she still looked cute. Rosalie wished she looked that nice after sleeping in her makeup.

“Aunt Susie!” she cried at the sight of her great-aunt, wrapping the woman in a hug. Ah, childhood innocence. Charlie didn’t know what the real world was like, what her extended family was really like, and Rosalie preferred to keep her naivety.

Charlotte easily engaged Aunt Susie in an excitable conversation. Rosalie, eerily conscious of eyes on her, shifted her ring between the fingers of both hands. It was an impulse buy, the vintage sapphire with the white gold band. She’d seen it on display in one of the shop windows and absolutely had to have it, even if it was way more than she’d ever spend on herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you on the cruise in a few weeks.” Aunt Susie turned to leave. Her eyes caught something, and she halted, wide-eyed.

“Oh, my stars,” she commented, hands on her heart. “I… I thought after Drew you were a hopeless case, but…”

Rosalie couldn’t comprehend why her aunt was getting choked up. And the ‘hopeless case’ comment stung more than she would have liked.

Sweet, sweet Charlie reached up to dry her great-aunt’s tears. The damage was already done—white tear tracks contrasted starkly with the tangerine of the older woman’s self-tanner. “What’s wrong, Aunt Susie?”

Aunt Susie, so overwhelmed with emotion, didn’t register the little girl’s words. Instead, she grabbed Derek’s hand. It hung limply in hers. Derek looked alarmed. “Oh, Rosalie’s father will be absolutely thrilled to see you… both of his baby girls… first Drew and Ashleigh…”

Aunt Susie shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the bottom of her red Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

With her resolve back, she straightened. “Well now, please tell me you’re coming on the cruise?”

“I, um…” Derek stuttered, looking to his best friend for help. Rosalie had no idea what was going on either, and just shrugged in response.

“Well, you absolutely must go now! Of course, Lydia and her wild boyfriend are coming--”

Stiles quietly muttered something along the lines of “I may be wild, but at least I’m not one step away from the loony bin, lady.” Rosalie leaned her elbow on the armrest and laughed into her palm.

“--and Rosie, you absolutely have to bring your fiancé,” Aunt Susie pleaded, looking straight at Derek.

Rosalie couldn’t look at him. She froze, stock still, staring in horror at the sapphire ring that had migrated from her right ring finger onto her left. Where an engagement ring would go. And her new piece of jewelry sure as hell looked like an engagement ring.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!” Charlotte squealed loudly, clasping her hands in glee.

Rosalie was about to deny it, let the little girl down easy, when Charlotte began to cry.

“Char, why are you crying?” Rosalie asked, voice shaking. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at her niece, heart beating heavily in her chest.

“I’m just… I’m so, so, happy,” Charlotte sniffled. “I love you so much, Uncle Derek.” The little girl climbed over Rosalie and hopped into Derek’s lap, engulfing him in a huge hug. Derek didn’t hug her back, but only for a miniscule moment. He shook his head, coming to his senses, and then wrapped his arms around the girl, patting her back stiffly.

“You didn’t tell her?” Aunt Susie asked Rosalie, accusingly. Rosalie looked to her right for help. Stiles and Lydia were silently sharing a soft pretzel, looking just as stunned as Rosalie.

“No… um, we were going to tell Charlotte during the fireworks. Right, Rosie?” Derek mumbled, saving face. Rosalie thanked him silently for his quick wit.

Rosalie’s head whipped in the opposite direction. She met Derek’s apprehensive eyes. It was almost as if he was asking permission, like he actually agreed to go along with this whole charade.

It was the perfect ruse if Rosalie could ever think of one. A month ago, she’d drunkenly RSVP’d with a plus one to the family reunion cruise, as a way to save her pride and spite her family, who likely thought that she’d come alone and pine for her ex.

No way in hell, she’d thought. Even though there was no one in her life that she could even remotely think of to bring as a date. Derek was out of the question, before…

But now…

She subtly raised a brow, wordlessly asking, are you sure?

Derek subtly nodded back, lip quirking in a reassuring half smile.

Rosalie cleared her throat and straightened herself to her tallest seated height. She wasn’t confident at all, so she was going to fake it till she made it. “That’s right. We were going to wait until the fireworks, make it more magical for Charlotte.”

The speakers on the green lamppost next to them announced that the show was starting. Aunt Susie left them all with a wave and a ‘see you soon’.

No one spoke during the show, except for Charlotte, who was oblivious to the mess that she’d inadvertently got them into.

“So, I guess you’re my fiancée now,” Derek joked, lightly shoving Rosalie in the side. She smiled shyly up at her best friend. Amusement shined in his eyes. He wasn’t mad or appalled like Rosalie suspected him to be. Thank God.

“I, um, I guess I am,” Rosalie replied, swinging her now free arms beside her. Stiles had taken over the task of carrying a sleepy Charlotte to the car. He and Lydia trailed behind them, whispering. Likely about Derek and Rosalie’s… predicament.

“Dude, you two are fucked,” Stiles said, appearing suddenly on Rosalie’s left.

“So fucked,” Lydia affirmed after checking to see if Charlotte was still sleeping.

Rosalie couldn’t help but agree.

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x oc #teen wolf #tyler hoechlin

[not-close-to-straight]

FATWS Episode 4

I’m finally fucking getting time to watch this thing. 

Dramatic reactions, incoherent ramblings and spoilers under the cut. 

Right off the bat I’m feeling like the only thing I really remember about Episode Three is vaguely not trusting Sharon Carter. I’m really supposed to believe Peggy Carters Niecey, defender of Captain America and dismantler of Hydra really is selling stolen art in Madripoor? Seems fake, but okay. 

Let’s get into it. 

Have I mentioned I love Karli’s freckles? Her hair and her freckles kill me, I never understood people who don’t think freckles are cute. They are actual dots of delightfulness

AYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AYO AYO AYO She is so ridiculously beautiful wtf. I’m shaving my head TOMORROW so I can be half as amazing as her. 

Wait is this a Wakanda flashback? Six years ago... ohhhh look at my goatherder Jesus Bucky, let that baby rest. WHY IS SHE SAYING THE WORDS? LOOK AT HIS EYES PLEASE STOP. This is hurting my soul. Oh god homecoming, and it’s the moment he knew Steve. Oh the tears, I can’t. I CAN’T. “You are free” I’m already crying and it’s been 1.2 minutes. 

Damn right the White Man doesn’t understand anything of their loss and shame. LISTEN TO BUCKY SPEAK WAKANDAN. I LOVE IT. Urgh she’s so beautiful. Her murder strut is impeccable. I’m in love and I’m swoooooooning. 

“It was sweet of you to defend me” Zemo take ten to twenty percent off the top there, This isn’t a date.

Hey, I feel like I don’t love that they refer to Karli as “Karli”. If she was a man, it would be Last Name Basis. “She’s a kid” “she’s a supremacist.” hmmm seeing a parallel between Wanda and Karli and the way they were treated. “She’s a kid?” She’s actually ridiculously powerful but thanks for that. (no Wanda hate here, just pointing it out) 

“My TT” ITS HIS AUNTIE BUCKY YOU’D KNOW THIS IF YOU WERE EVER INVITED TO THE COOKOUT 

Uh Zemo, maybe we don’t be the creepy guy in the coat offering children candy. I mean, the tactic worked but you could literally not be creepier right now.  Honestly I don’t know why I’m so surprised he’s keeping the Donya thing from them, duh he’s a villain, but I’m still surprised?? The sugar daddy role got me FOOLED

Sam being the one that understands what it means to be fighting to be on the other side of the “barbed wire fences” is so sad. 

BUCKY’S MAD. Sam has something against head tilts, that’s so funny to me for some reason. I DON’T TRUST SHARON. 

Why do I smell some foreshadowing with Karli’s talk about destroying the shield and how it’s a relic of a bygone era and a symbol of everyone that was left out

“take it easy before it gets weird” SAM. 

John Walker literally looks more sketchy every time we see him. Also, if you can’t say “son, just don’t” and everyone stops in their tracks, you are NOT Captain America. Its worrying me that Battlestar (battleship? lmaoooo) is starting to side with BuckySam because if there’s one thing literally every movie has taught me, it’s that the person who switches sides ends up dead and if I have to watch a POC first be relegated to sidekick and then killed I might actually riot

It’s so good to see Sam being Counselor!Sam. I think that gets so overlooked with him and I think it’s one of the most defining traits of his character. He’s not just a soldier, he’s not just brave, he’s seen the loss and he knows the struggle and he chose to help others through it while also being equally willing to suit back up and save the world. 

“Don’t patronize me” stop acting like a damn child. Why is John so twitchy, I don’t like it. OH is he really gonna say “this is easy for you, all this serum running through your veins” as if Bucky had a say in anything about in his life beyond Azzano. 

GET HIM BITCH punch his raggedy ass! 

Oh look at Bucky jumping, Winter Soldier, more like Winter Squirrel PARKOUR. Goddamn Zemo with his gun, oh no look at all that super soldier serum! I mean, you have to commend the guy for never wavering from his path. JOHN WALKER AND THE SERUM! It’s supposed to amplify what’s in your heart?? AND HE SUCKS OH NO. 

The power broker texts her “little girl” that’s so gross. 

“Separate them and kill Captain America” three months ago I would have howled at that line, now I’m like...meh. 

Sam wouldn’t have taken the serum-- not surprising. He’s a good man all by himself. No serum needed. Have you seen those arms? Actual Cannons of Freedom and Justice. “What about bucky” I love that he’s thinking about Bucky. Someone please protect these boys. 

Aw Bucky baby you’re not crazy. It’s funny to see him drink cos he definitely can’t get drunk. It’s the equivalent of some diva drinking a white wine spritzer. 

WHY IS JOHN WALKER BACK. 

THERE’S MY WOMEN OH MY GOD I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED IN MY LIFE. Do not shake her hand. John Walker, she will bite your hand off. Pointy Sticks, the Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever they want OMG HE TOUCHED HER omg. Look at Zemo sipping his drink LOOKING STRONG JOHN I CANNOT I CANNOT.

“Lets talk about this” Bucky is so calm. Bye bye Zemo. Oh GET it Sam with those fancy moves. 

...what just happened with Bucky’s arm. what just happened. “James” oh man waht does that mean?! Has Wakanda left him? Has he dishonored Them? My brain is moving too fast for this. 

I would like to have a moment of silence for John Walkers ego because he, a White Man (tm) and Solder (tm) and American (tm) just got his shit actually handed to him by a Black woman and he sat there and tried to more her “pointy stick” and couldn’t and then she full on did the shield kick thing while he sat on the ground and looked up at her and you know what? i think that’s very sexy of her, I will be watching this scene on repeat for the next hundred years wtf. 

Also ALSO? This is it. This is the moment where The Man (tm) can’t handle being beat so he goes and does something stupid, this is it, isn’t it? The Man Pain he just can’t tolerate? 

Oh my god Bucky’s face with his arm. I mean, it makes sense his arm would come off but to have himself literally disarmed (get it) in a fight is so... I mean it’s violating in a way, and its almost a betrayal as well but at the same time maaaaaaybe it’s a relief? Maybe its a relief to know he doesn’t always have to be a Soldier, he can take the arm off and just be Bucky?? 

Also I had to pause the show to write about this because my hand cramped up from trying to type too fast ughhh

Back into it 

ARM PORN NOISES I LOVE THEM

Whats an El Chapo? Oh wait, I figured it out. 

I love Lemar’s voice. He’s so confident talking about the serum but lets be perfectly honest, Karli Morgenthau and Steve Rogers are basically the same person a hundred years apart. If you don’t think Steve Rogers would have singlehandedly led a revolt against a world government he thought was wrong, you are 100% incorrect. Not that I think he wouldn’t have resorted to bombings etc, but also... that sort of life does awful things to people. 

WHY IS SHE CALLING SARAH. “My world doesn’t matter to America” oh sweetheart, I feel that in my soul. Sarah knows who Sam is. She knows he’s not working for John Walker. This is the first time I’ve been anti-Karli. I know she’s desperate but you don’t threaten someones babies. 

HEY LOOK THERE’S ME NOT TRUSTING SHARON AGAIN

It actually makes me angry to even see Walker carrying the shield like that. I’m aware it’s an overreaction, but your honor, I hate him. 

...Lemar? 

Don’t make me watch a POC die for some White Man’s story arc, don’t do that. 

Oh. Shit. 

Sam do something. SAM DO SOMETHING. HE’S NOT GOOD SAM! 

My god do I love watching Bucky fight. Those Kicks of Vengeance will never get old. CAW CAW MOTHERFUCKER use them wings Sam. 

Oh Hoskins is okay. Alright. 

Bucky with the good knives, I LOVE HIM. The fight scenes are always so well coordinated in WS. We see you definitely not killing when you absolutely could. 

OH FUCK HOSKINS WHAT THE FUCK I THOUGHT WE WEREN’T GOING TO DO THIS WHAT THE FUCK

...this makes me so mad wtf. We couldn’t have done this journey without pointlessly sacrificing a POC? No? Have to drag that trope out? Gonna make me watch another Black man be killed just so the White Guy can move his story forward. 

oh shit Walker is MAD. 

Fuck he just-- he just murdered someone with Steve’s shield. he just MURDERED SOMEONE WITH THE SHIELD AND EVERYONE WAS WATCHING. 

And look at him, he feels no remorse. He feels perfectly justified. He is DARING them to say something to him. He is America (tm) brutally silencing protests and rebellions and taking his own issues out on people he feels disrespect him and you can’t tell him he’s wrong because he can justify every drop of blood by making it about how he felt “they beat me and they weren’t even super soldiers. they disobeyed me. they should have listened to me. they killed my friend.”

I keep hearing preserum Steve saying “I don’t like bullies” and then imagining him beating the shit out of Walker. 

...That visual of the shield with blood on it... it’s so... shocking isn’t even the right word. Horrifying. Its horrifying.  

I don’t even know what to say. 

This episode was a whiplash. The writers of this series need to be commended. Also the stunt men and the fight choreographers. Fucking kudos, and now I need a stiff drink and a good cry because this episode took it OUT of me. 

#falcon and the winter soldier

[sunkisseddaffodils]

Flatmates!AU tenth doctor x reader (ft captain jack)

Pairing: tenth doctor x reader (ft captain jack)

Summary: where the reader is looking for a flatmate to rent out the room in their flat, having recently broken up with their partner. A strange man offers to rent the room for a lot of money. The reader can’t believe their luck. But is this man all that he seems?

Genre: mostly fluff

Warnings: swearing

Note: you can request a doctor who fic/ reader insert by asking on my profile <3

-

Four hours had gone by when you had finally finished putting up flyers about your room to rent around numerous cafes and bars in the town centre. Each time you did it, you felt a pang of sadness. A week ago, your partner had broken up with you and now if you didn’t find another person to sublet the room in your flat, you’d be evicted. You took the bus home and as you were wandering down the road to your flat; you noticed a strange man dressed in a blue suit sitting on your front garden wall. Lowkey, he was cute, but you couldn’t be thinking about that right now. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a murderer with the way your week was going. Swiftly, you jogged on over, demanding what on earth this guy was doing. He gave you a cheeky grin, asking, pointing to your apartment:

‘I presume you’re the one who’s renting out the room in this flat?’

All of this seemed kinda dodgy but surely things couldn’t get any worse.

‘Yeah, I am..’

He jumped down off the wall, fixing his brunette hair.

‘Wonderful! I wanna rent the room from today’

Your eyes widened.

‘Oh my god really? Wait, no hang on a second. I need to do a credit check and shit. You can’t just move in straight away,’

The tall, slim man reached into his pockets, producing a thick wad of cash.

‘Would this be enough to cover the first few months rent?’

‘Oh my fucking god’

He took this as a yes, placing the money in your hand, running up the steps to the front door, asking for the keys. You gave them to him, reluctantly.

He continued up the stairs to your flat with you running after him

‘Excuse me, but I don’t even know your name’.

He reached the living-dining area and sat down on your old, worn-out, leather couch.

He sat up, crossing his legs.

‘Oh, me? I’m the Doctor.’

He couldn’t be serious. You stood in front of him, crossing your arms, with a look of confusion on your face.

‘Doctor who?’

For some reason, he looked as if he was enjoying this.

‘It’s just ‘the doctor,’

You were about to remark about how ridiculous this was when he abruptly leapt off the settee and started rummaging around your kitchen cupboards. It seemed that he found what he wanted, and he stuck his finger inside an old pot of peanut butter and then licked it off. You really couldn’t believe your eyes. It took every ounce of your being to stop yourself from screaming the house down.

‘Doctor, please just stop for a second’

He placed down the peanut butter, putting his arms up apologetically.

‘Okay, sorry’

Taking in a breath, you began to list the rules if he was to stay here.

‘Doctor, you can stay here. But under these conditions: one, please keep all the shared living spaces clean and tidy, don’t be noisy and you’re gonna have to buy your own food if you want to do what you just did again’

The doctor nodded in acknowledgement, and you gestured for him to follow you. You gave him a quick tour of his room and the bathroom. He said thanks and you let him get set up in his room. For the rest of the night, you shut yourself in your room as you had an urgent report that was due at work the next day. In the middle of the night, you awoke, needing the toilet, and as you passed his room, you could hear the doctor talking to someone. All you could make out was that he talking on the phone to someone called captain jack. Checking your phone, you thought, ‘damn, it’s 4 am, doesn’t this guy ever sleep?’. The next couple of months passed smoothly except for the times where you noticed strange things about this man called the doctor. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. And he always shut himself in his room. Often, you heard strange noises coming from his room. A sort of whirring sound. Maybe you had been too harsh that first time you met? But you couldn’t complain as he had overpaid his rent massively, and he didn’t want it back. That would keep you going for a while. Overall, he seemed a genuinely nice, guy. After work one night, you decided you were going to break the ice, try to get to know him better. It was 9 pm when you left work, you strolled down the dark road. Your heart sunk when you noticed the gate was left open, and the bins were strewn over the floor. Then, to top it all off, the front door was wide open... 

Thoughts raced around your mind. Were we being burgled? Where is the Doctor? Is he alright? You scampered up the stairs into your flat, where you heard a loud commotion coming from the doctor’s room. Shit. Grabbing a frying pan, you barged into his room to a very unexpected scene. The doctor was pressed up against the wall, being strangled by a massive green, slimy .. monster? What the fuck was going on? Without thinking, you ran up behind the thing and smashed it around the head with the frying pan. The doctor fell to the floor, panting. He struggled to raise his arm and this loud noise emitted from a blue screwdriver thing he was pointing at the ceiling. The monster roared in pain at this. The doctor ran and pulled you out of the room screaming at you to ‘run’. In the living room, the doctor pointed the screwdriver at his bedroom door, which seemed to lock it. He was pointing it around the room while you stood useless in the corner of the kitchen. The doctor was talking to that guy again, but it wasn’t on a phone but an earpiece. You couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

‘That should stall it for a bit’

You tried hard to gather your thoughts, demanding to know what was going on, running over to the doctor and tapping his shoulder.

‘Care to explain what the fuck is going on’

The doctor’s expression was sympathetic as he began to elaborate.

‘So basically your partner was actually a slitheen in disguise and they used you and your apartment to rebuild their ship which is above your flat and call for the rest of their race to come and destroy the earth and sell it for profit. I was just waiting for it to return so I could stop it.’

You didn’t even understand half of what he said. Slowly, you made your way over to the couch to sit down to rest. Running your hands through your hair, you asked the doctor:

‘Who are you?’

He sat down on the couch next to you, trying to be as comforting as possible.

‘I’m just a traveller, a passerby. Once I’m done here, you’ll be safe.’

Before you could reply, the door to the doctor’s bedroom was torn down by the Slickeen? Slitheen? Whatever the fuck it was. Both of you jumped up from the couch, backing away as far as possible. It came bounding through. The Doctor pulled you behind him as he made one last offer for the Slitheen to leave the planet.

‘I’m giving you one last chance. Get off this planet and I won’t do you any harm’.

The Slitheen simply cackled in response and marched towards them.

The doctor shouted at you urgently 

‘Do you have any vinegar?!’

‘Yeah, I think so in the top cupboard. Why?’

The doctor hurriedly shoved a bottle in your hand, ordering you to:

‘Quick, throw the vinegar over it. No time to explain why just do it!’

Both of you chucked the acidic substance over the Slitheen and it exploded all over the walls and floors, including yourself and the Doctor. Dumbfounded, you stared around at the thick, green goo which had wrecked your apartment. How the hell were you gonna clean this up? The doctor made his way out of the flat, informing the person on his earpiece.

“We’re done here. Bring the tardis’

You chased him down the stairs but he disappeared into an old blue police box. You knocked violently on the box.

‘OI! You can’t just leave after all that.’

Another tall, slim man walked out of the box and shook your hand

‘Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?’

Blushing you answered ‘Y/N’

The doctor reemerged from the police box, having somehow changed his clothes. You gave him an evil glance as you were still covered in gunk.

‘Jack, stop it.’

Jack looked offended.

‘What? I was just saying hello’

The doctor instantly responded.

‘Well don’t. Anyways, thank you for all your help, Y/N. To make up for wrecking your flat, do you wanna come on a trip with us?’

You replied uncertainly

‘Where?’

‘Anywhere in space and time’, he grinned widely, leaning against the police box.

‘How?’

‘This police box is a ship that can travel in space and time. It’s called the TARDIS.’

Nothing could surprise you anymore. Of course, you had to say yes. Captain Jack and the Doctor looked very happy with your answer and led you into the Tardis where you would have many adventures with the two of them.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x #Tenth Doctor #David Tennant #captain jack harkness #the doctor x reader #the doctor #doctor who fic #the doctor x you #the doctor x y/n #10th doctor

[lovelyirony]

Moony-Eyed

@bironfam i hope this is okay! 

Tony didn’t think that their new astronaut was going to be anything special. 

Well. 

That’s a lie. 

You kind of have to be special if you’re going to be an astronaut for NASA. You have to keep your cool, have good eyesight, and be okay with the possibility of dying. Maybe. Maybe you have to be cool with that. 

Tony is rather good at his job. From revolutionizing how space suits are made to making the functions of the ship easier to manage, Tony is NASA’s secret weapon, the handyman of all handymen. 

He’s usually squirreled away in his workshop, at his apartment that he honestly needs to clean far more than he does, or arguing with Potts about why he needs eight different coffee mugs. 

They know him as a guy who doesn’t exactly give a rat’s ass about the chain of command, or dress code. 

“You can’t fire me,” he had told Happy, after he had tried once again to stop Tony from entering areas containing sensitive information in sweatpants and a sweatshirt that proclaimed him the “MIT class of 1992.” 

Tony is good at his job, nearly too good. He likes it that way. 

But back to the astronaut. 

Danvers had taken leave to take care of her family, and honestly? Space usually isn’t a lifetime event for astronauts. You see too much of it, you need time away. A lot of time away. 

Pepper is giddy. She loved Carol, but Carol was happily married with a baby girl, and this one? This one wasn’t. 

Not that Pepper was looking for anyone. No, she and her partner Nat had standing date nights every Saturday evening, and she loved them too much to even think about anything else. 

But Tony? Tony needed someone. He never really dated anybody, at least not anybody that he genuinely liked. 

Stark was a powerful name, and it got tossed around a little bit, but Tony mostly kept to himself and only responded to it when he was at a party or Happy was mad at him for forgetting his ID badge yet again. 

James Rhodes was a nicely built man with a strong, confident aura, and single. 

(Pepper had checked.) 

She thought that he and Tony would get along quite well, if anything. 

James is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d rather just get to work on what he needs to do. Getting into the air is one of the best feelings, and the sooner he can experience it, the sooner he’ll be fine. 

He always pushed the limits, and space is just the last limit he gets to push. He’s excited. He’s always wanted to work for NASA, be on their roster of astronauts. He wants little kids who identify with him to know that they can do it too. 

So he’s ready to work with the best and brightest of their era. 

“Where the fuck are my nachos?!” 

His head whips around to a man who is wearing an ill-fitting cardigan (that is most likely not his), old jeans that have what look to be equations written on one thigh, and glasses that are most definitely broken sitting at an angle. 

“Your nachos were too close to the computers,” one woman says without looking up. “Stop bringing nachos here or I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

“You can’t kill me,” the man retorts. 

“Tony,” comes another voice. James turns and sees who must be Pepper Potts. “Go to your office. Now. Change your pants, you wrote on them again.” 

“I did?” 

He looks down and swears. 

“Son of a bitch!” He then looks at Jim. “Wait, who are you? Are you the new astronaut?” 

“Uh, yes? I’m James.” 

He sticks out his hand. 

Who seems to be Tony stares at his hand. 

“Your name is seriously James?” 

“Do you think I’m bad at jokes?” he asks, eyebrows raised. 

Tony grins. 

“No, I think you’re gonna be a riot. But I’m not calling you James.” 

“Jim, then.” 

“No,” Tony says. “You’re not an old man, you’re still attractive.” 

His eyebrows raise. 

Tony’s face pales. 

“I’m going to. Go. I have math on my pants.” 

Pepper snorts, readjusting her grip on her clipboard. 

“Welcome to NASA, Colonel Rhodes. I can promise you that we don’t usually yell about our lunch location or write on articles of clothing.” 

- 

Surprisingly, James doesn’t see Tony for two weeks. Apparently, he’s been working outside with a couple of the interns to calculate some stuff, rework some of the older ships for experience, and stay out of the way of Pepper, who says that he’s attempting to murder her via headaches to deal with. 

He seems interesting, however. There are sticky notes and papers all over the offices and breakrooms reminding people of what Tony had for breakfast/lunch/dinner, or where the extra coffee supplies are. 

“You provide for him?” he asks Pepper one time. 

“He gets too much into his own head sometimes,” Pepper says. “He focuses too much on a program or an improvement and forgets that he works around other people. You wouldn’t believe how many times we had miniature science experiments based off of lunches that he would leave in the fridge.” 

Rhodes nods. “Well. I’ll look forward to working with him.” 

- 

Tony has been working outside of the office for two reasons: 

1.) To legitimately help the interns. (Ned and Peter are making improvements!) 

2.) James Rhodes is the hottest guy on earth. Maybe in the universe. For real. Seriously. 

He hates Pepper for this. Didn’t even tell Tony what the new astronaut looked like, and then shows up with a god of a man. Rude and unfair. 

And he had to be the dumbass with the equation on his pants. 

He didn’t even have spare pants! He had to stay in his office for the whole day because the equation was actually really important and he needed it. 

“Why didn’t you just transfer it over on paper?” Bruce asks over the phone. Bruce is his friend who works in a technically classified, off-the-books, not-exactly-government-issued building. He’s cool. He also points out the obvious. 

“I’m the biggest idiot on the planet,” Tony groans. “There was just a new guy at work, and he threw me off balance, so-” 

“What’s he look like?” 

“Why, you not crushing on that hot Nordic space dude?” 

“No, still am. But I still remember when Barton came to work for you guys and you didn’t know that his name wasn’t George until about six months into him working there.” 

“In my defense, he works mostly with physical therapy and prep for no gravity,” Tony says. “I work with math and shit.” 

“Still,” Bruce says. “You wouldn’t have pointed him out if you didn’t think he was cute. What’s he like?” 

“I...don’t exactly know.” 

“Oh my god, you’ve been avoiding him?” 

“Oh what, like you didn’t jump out of a window when Thor almost saw you in a tank top?” 

“I have a farmer’s tan! Totally different circumstance!” 

“Is it?” 

“I hate you.” 

“Get to dating Thor and then we’ll talk again. Have fun re-revolutionizing green energy, Dr. Banner.” 

“Look to the stars, Tony.” 

- 

James has to get fitted for his suit. 

He faces Tony, who looks quite different from when he first saw him. His hair is somewhat less messy, he has one of those geeky NASA-logo shirts that they sell at Target, and is wearing khaki pants with about a million different pockets. 

(Something in his mind is whispering that he definitely shouldn’t find him attractive. But he will anyways.) 

“Alright space-cowboy, let’s get your measurements,” Tony says. “You feeling okay today?” 

“Right as rain.” 

“Rain is never good, sunshine,” Tony quips. “Now, about your nickname from me...hm. Rhodey.” 

“How’d you figure that out?” 

“Substituted the ‘s’ for a ‘y’, just simple stuff,” he says with a shrug. “You approve?” 

“I...guess.” 

“Good. Now Rhodey, how are you feeling?” 

“Like sunshine and gumdrops,” he responds sarcastically. 

Tony smiles, and damn if it makes his heart thump a bit. 

“Better answer, soldier. Extend those arms, please.” 

Tony smells really nice. Subtle cologne and clean laundry. Rhodey finds that he likes it. 

“How’ve you been doing, Tony?” 

“Like a gentle breeze on a day that’s seventy-two degrees,” Tony answers. “Work’s been good today. Helen made tacos.” 

“I had some of those, they were pretty good.” 

“Mm,” Tony answers. “Legs a bit more apart, thank you.” 

Rhodey shifts his stance a little bit, carefully not watching Tony bend down just a tad to get the bottom of his foot. 

(But oof, that was hard.) 

Tony comes back up again, looking into Rhodey’s eyes. For a moment, for a brief moment, his breath is taken away. 

“I need to wrap my measuring tape around your waist. You okay with that?” 

“More than.” 

“Don’t get saucy,” Tony winks. “No one likes more than one floozy at the office, and that’s what got me this job anyways.” 

Rhodey lets out a laugh, and Tony grins. 

He likes making him laugh. Likes it more than he should. 

- 

They spend more and more time together. Tony always makes adjustments, Rhodey realizes that Tony doesn’t exactly keep track of when he eats, so they have lunch together. 

They like it a lot. 

On good-weather days, they eat outside on a bench. Tony leans against one said, foot brushing Rhodey’s calf, and Rhodey doesn’t really mind because he’ll lean over occasionally and steal whatever Tony’s eating. 

“This is theft, you know.” 

“You eat like a bird, what do you know about food theft?” 

Tony almost always stays later than anyone else except for nights with Rhodey. 

Once a month, they have dinner together. Rhodey’s new to the area and Tony’s almost never social with anyone, so they’ve been working through a list of the three-star-rated restaurants and seeing which ones they like. 

“It’s kind of like a date,” Pepper says, on her monthly hangout with Tony (and also kind of a clean-up party for his house). 

“Not dates,” Tony says. “Just friends. I’m sure he has his eye on someone in or out of the office.” 

“Like you?” 

“His first impression of me was me writing an equation on my pair of jeans, and then I haven’t exactly upgraded my style since,” Tony deadpans. “He’s seen me in neon orange sweatpants, Pep. You don’t exactly come back from that.” 

“Maybe he likes you for who you are!” 

“God that’s such a bullshit answer,” Tony whines. “You sound like a straight-to-video movie that came out in 1997!” 

“That’s too specific.” 

“And? You still get the point!” 

Pepper flings a pillow his way. 

“Where is your wine?” 

“In the same cabinet you always leave it.” 

“Goody.” 

While Pepper sways to bed, Tony thinks about what she said. 

It could be possible. Tony had never exactly asked him about himself in that capacity, but Rhodey never had an odd reaction to a statement that involved talking about a partner of the same-sex or a one-liner about it. 

Maybe? 

...no. 

Guys like Rhodey deserved someone better than someone who forgot to eat lunch four out of the seven days of the week. (And maybe four was being generous.) 

- 

On the flipside, Rhodey was currently telling his woes to Carol, who was laughing at him. 

“You nerd!” she says. “You like Tony, and you’ve done nothing about it? Have you even told him that you also like guys? Cuffed your pants?” 

“No,” Rhodey says. “I just...why would he like someone like me? I’m...boring.” 

“You’re not boring,” Carol says. 

“Yeah you are!” Maria calls from the kitchen. “You’re very boring, Mr. ‘Only-Drinks-Black-Coffee’!” 

Carol giggles. 

“Maybe Maria has a point. Maybe.” 

Rhodey groans, leaning against the couch. 

“I’m so fucked.” 

“On the contrary-” 

“Oh shut up.” 

- 

Pepper is tired of people’s problems. They’re getting closer and closer to launch, and Clint’s out sick and Helen is being weird again, and Jane is off somewhere to a secret government-but-not-government launch to discuss things with two potential boyfriends. (Maybe boyfriends. Maybe.) 

Tony is getting stressed. 

Usually, he’s the only one who’s fine during a launch. He’s still cracking jokes, making fun events, and calming down people who are a bit too nervous. 

But usually, he’s not as close to the astronaut as this. 

He’s been thinking about the accidents they’ve had over the years. He doesn’t want a repeat. He’s been pulling all-nighters, avoiding sleep, and checking in on Rhodey consistently, to the point where Rhodey has to drag him outside and tell him that things will be fine. 

(In Pepper’s professional opinion, they’d be fine if they just did a goodbye kiss or whatever, but okay.) 

Tony’s getting into his own head. 

So is Rhodey. 

He’s going to be gone for a long time. He’s going to miss the holidays. And Tony won’t be able to talk to him everyday. 

“You should tell him,” Pepper murmurs. “I think you both would benefit from it.” 

“I’m not going to play that unfair card,” Rhodey murmurs back. “I either confess my love and go to a dangerous mission knowing that he loves me back and I said it when I can’t return, or he doesn’t and I just played a guilt-trip card.” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

Rhodey shakes his head. 

“I...I can’t do that to him. Wouldn’t be right. After the mission.” 

“After, then,” Pepper says. “When you come home.” 

Rhodey grins. 

- 

The day of launch happens far quicker than anyone wants it to, most of all Tony. 

Pepper actually kicked him out of his office, told him to shower, and wear something nice for once. 

“Make sure he knows he has someone to come home to,” Pepper says. “Wear your turtleneck!” 

“It’s only September,” Tony scowls. “And he’s his own person who’s about to launch himself into space.” 

“He will be fine,” Pepper says. “With your research and work, we’ve cut down overlooked mistakes by about forty percent.” 

“Still not half.” 

“Because we’re NASA,” Pepper sniffs. “Our mistakes matter more, so we make less of them.” 

Tony nods. 

-

He ends up almost being late to the launch because of Pepper’s stupid wardrobe advice. 

He’s wearing his nicest pair of pants, a button-up that’s been at the back of his closet for quite some time, and he’s feeling stupid because he had to play AC/DC in the car so he would actually focus on what was going on. 

Now he’s waiting for Rhodey to exit wearing the space suit that he made and to tell everyone that it was an honor and a privilege to be going to space where things happen and Tony can’t be there to help. 

Life sucks. 

But it goes on, and there’s Rhodey in the brilliantly-designed suit, and Tony’s never been more proud and more sad, but he sucks up his tears and walks up anyways. 

“Hey space-cowboy. Ready to explore the frontier?” 

“As ever,” Rhodey says. “You ready to forget to eat your lunch all over again?” 

Tony smiles. 

“You’ll have to check in with me soon, then,” Tony says. “Cut the mission short?” 

Rhodey laughs. 

“Wish I could. But I’ll send you pictures,” he says. “I promise.” 

Tony stops for a moment, smile dropping from his face. 

“Promise me one more thing.” 

“Anything,” Rhodey says. “Anything you want.”  

“Come back safe. Swear to me that you will.” 

Rhodey grins. 

“Safe and sound, honey. Safe and sound.” 

Tony watches him board the ship, wave to the cameras, and wink at him. 

He rolls his eyes, but blows a kiss anyways. 

-

Tony’s a nervous wreck. 

Pepper has decided that Rhodey needs to not go on missions anymore, or at least take Tony with him because he’s annoying. 

“Can you stop crying on the second floor bathroom? It’s getting annoying,” Pepper says. “Clint says he can hear you and feels bad.” 

“Well how are we supposed to know that Rhodey’s okay?!” Tony says. “For all I know, he could be dead!” 

“I really hope you don’t mean that,” comes a voice from behind. 

Tony whips around, seeing Rhodey’s grainy face from the big screen. 

“You bitch!” 

He laughs, and it doesn’t sound real, but he can see him. 

“Hey Tony. You been making sure no one is pissed at you for forgetting your dinner in the fridge?” 

“Well, now I will,” he admits. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” Rhodey smiles. “How’s everything been down there?” 

“Boring,” Tony says. “When are you coming back?” 

“I got about two more months,” Rhodey says. “And then I’ll be back.” 

“Quit hogging all the screen time,” Natasha teases. “You lovebirds can have your moment on earth.” 

Tony blinks. 

“What.” 

But by that time, Natasha and Sam have already been asking a million questions, and Pepper is filling Rhodey in on what he’s missed. 

Tony is still stuck on the whole ‘lovebirds’ thing that Natasha suggested. 

...that couldn’t be possible. And yet if other people saw it that way...

“Tony? Tony?” 

He blinks again, looking back up at the screen. 

Rhodey is smiling at him, that smile that means that he’s happy to see someone. 

“I’ll see you soon, honey.” 

“Right back at you, space-cowboy.” 

The screen goes to black, and Tony smiles a bit. 

“Aw, you nerd,” Clint teases. “So, you gonna ask him out on a date?” 

“Clint, I will cut off your leg,” Tony says cheerily. “I have to go finish some paperwork!” 

Tony’s done all of his paperwork, it’s one of the few times that Pepper’s had it done on time. 

He has to keep doing things to stop thinking about Rhodey. 

-

He writes him letters. He knows that he won’t ever read them, but writing letters helps and sometimes it makes his hands less jittery. 

He’s not ever going to send them. Ever. Letters are cheesy and they feel...personal. 

Pepper tells him that he’s being lame. 

“I’m not being lame!” Tony cries. “I am just. Protecting myself!” 

“You have the reasoning of a Jane Austen love interest,” she says flatly. “I swear if you don’t tell him, then I’ll meddle. And you know how bad I am when I meddle.” 

“You literally have made things so much worse for so many people,” Tony responds. 

“Not worse, per se.” 

“Oh right, how could I forget?” Tony exclaims sarcastically. “You made things the worst.” 

“If we weren’t such good friends, you’d be dead,” Pepper says. 

“Then let’s be worst enemies,” Tony mutters. “You still ready for pizza night?” 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Pepper says. “Meet at your place at seven, right?” 

“Right.” 

-

Here is what Tony does not know: Rhodey’s coming back down earlier than expected, and Pepper knows this. 

So she’s been busying Tony with work while she’s acclimating Rhodey to life on earth again. 

“Has he really missed me?” Rhodey asks for about the twentieth time in about two hours. 

“Yes,” Pepper says. “I hope these aren’t your talking points for your interviews. If people know you’re this much of a love-struck idiot in real life, they won’t take you seriously.” 

“I just missed him!” 

“Oh sure,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “And I’m sure you’ll tell the news reporters that you missed me with as many stars in your eyes as now. You like him, you absolute geek.” 

“Well, maybe a little,” Rhodey mutters. “But you’re sure he’ll like the surprise?” 

“One hundred percent.” 

-

Tony is having, perhaps, the worst day in his life. Maybe in history, if he’s being quite honest. 

His car, for one thing, won’t start for more than is done-away-with concern, so he has to call Pepper and say that he’s going to be late since he has to fix his own car. 

“Will you get coffee on the way here?” Pepper asks. 

“Your usual order?” 

“Yeah, you know the drill.” 

Then the line is long because some stupid person wanted to complain, and Tony was this close to just threatening to buy the entire store to make it stop, and he cried on his way to work because he saw a duck cross the road and it reminded him of how Rhodey crashed his first car avoiding a duck that was crossing the road. 

Yeah. It’s rough. 

Then he parks in the wrong parking spot because some asshole with a stupid rental car took his usual spot, and then he stepped in a puddle. 

He hates today. 

“Pepper!” he declares as he enters the building. “I wore jeans today, I got your coffee, and I’m already done with the day. I swear to god if one more unexpected thing happens, I’ll just say ‘fuck it’ and go work for the Soviets!” 

“The Soviets aren’t a thing, Tones.” 

He knows that voice. 

He fucking knows that voice. He isn’t supposed to be back from that mission for another month. 

Tony doesn’t turn around. 

“I’m hallucinating. Oh my god, I’m hallucinating.” 

Hands wrap around his neck, hugging him. 

“This feel like a hallucination?” 

(Okay so Tony drops the coffee.) 

Rhodey’s smile is blinding, and he’s...he’s here. Right in front of him with those not-supposed-to-be-that-hot polo shirts, those eyes that he could get lost in, and just...

Well. 

He hugs him and he hugs him tightly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back so soon?!” 

“Pepper organized it,” Rhodey says, giddy. “Decided it would be a nice surprise for you.” 

Tony looks over at Pepper, who’s trying to hide a grin behind her hands. 

“Pepper if I wasn’t so over-the-moon right now, your heels would be snapped.” 

She shrugs. 

“Worth it. You requested today off, by the way.” She winks as she turns back to her office. 

“Well, what do you say?” Rhodey asked. “Help me get used to having my feet back on the ground?” 

Tony grins. 

“Dinner sounds like a good start. Gotta get you some good earth food, none of that dehydrated crap.” 

“Do you know how long it’s been since I had a decent slice of pizza?” 

Tony grins. 

“I can fix that.” 

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