#so my leasing office accidentally opened it before putting it out for me

[tieflingcxre]

WHEEEE mars is here!!!!! YIPPEEEEEEEE

#laikas comet #i think i forgot to put my apt number on my address #so my leasing office accidentally opened it before putting it out for me #i guess they were treated to a view of a delightful little cat #picz

[ptersparkers]

hotbox

summary: you’re high out of your mind for the first time and rafe’s surprised by your sudden and explicit confession.

warnings: smut, y’all.

notes: the rafe in this/all my fics isn’t canon and i just love drew but i feel weird writing for a real person ok. also let me emphasize (again) that i am NOT excusing his behavior by writing my stories with him. this is my imagination in it, there’s literally nothing canon about his character. okay bye happy reading. 

writing this is pure wish fulfillment. BYEEEEEEE.

For the better half of six months, Rafe Cameron had been lucky enough to call you his girlfriend.

Rafe could remember the exact moment a mutual friend had introduced the two of you. Topper, his best friend since the beginning of freshman year, put together a welcoming party for his new apartment that he leased at the beginning of senior year of college. You were a starting junior at the time and knew Topper because he was a teaching assistant in your introductory economics class, and the unlikely friendship between the widely popular frat boy and the bookish wine drinker was born.

You were sitting on the couch’s arm rest when he arrived and Rafe hadn’t taken notice of you in favor of congratulating Topper on the new place, setting a bottle of wine as a warming gift. Engrossed in a conversation, you didn’t notice Topper introducing his best friend to everyone he didn’t know at the party until Rafe greeted your counterpart and looked at you.

You smiled at him and stuck your hand out for him to shake. Rafe could vividly remember how soft they were and how you hadn’t broken eye contact with him when he returned the favor. Neither of you spoke to one another for the rest of the night aside from small talk when you offered to help Topper clean up the living room when the majority of the guests began to leave. Rafe decided to forego a ride from a friend in favor of helping you pick up wine glasses and paper plates from the floor and bookshelves.

What started as an innocent introduction became a case of pining; Rafe saw you everywhere he went after that party and swore the universe had an agenda. You would enter the library as he was leaving. Whenever he’d stop by the coffee shop on campus, you’d be chatting with a friend at a table by the window. Rafe would see you walk past his advisor’s office whenever he appeared early for his appointment. He concluded that it wasn’t just a coincidence and he knew he had to say something to you sooner rather than later.

Constantly seeing you started the fluttering feeling in his stomach and the smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face. It was a coincidence that you bumped into Rafe and Topper in the mess hall one evening and spent two hours in the same spot, laughing about a conversation Rafe couldn’t remember. All he could recall was feeling like he had nothing to worry about for the first time.

Topper was the one to give Rafe your phone number after noticing how long he’d spend staring at you and picked up how innocuously shy Rafe would act when asking if you were coming to one of their frat parties. Rafe always knew the answer was no, because he learned you weren’t the party type, but that didn’t stop him from wishing he’d have a reason to see you. Topper wasn’t shy about putting your number in his phone and Rafe put it to good use an hour later.

Rafe didn’t go to the frat party at the biggest house on the property. Instead, he chose to stay sober and drive to your dorm hall to pick you up, heading to a local spot to pick up food before driving to the edge of a cliff’s edge for a peaceful night underneath the beacon of stars that seemed brighter, truly, for the first time.

He knew he was in deep when he chose to decline alcohol-driven nights to listen to your favorite songs in your dorm room. Rafe knew you’d never force him to separate himself from things he loved to do, which made it easy for him to choose waking up next to you in the morning sun over waking up slouched over a couch in a room he wasn’t familiar with.

When he gained the courage to make a move, and when you said yes to being his girlfriend, there was no shortage of tenderness on both ends as Rafe became accustomed to having you pressed against his tall frame. You’d steal his clothes and he’d love the scent of your perfume on them when you gave it back. You’d support him through tough finals and he’d be your study partner until late into the night. He’d take you on dates until you two forgot what time it was and he lived to see when you were too happy to realize you should head back to your dorm hall.

It was circumstantial, this relationship, but neither you nor Rafe would change a thing.

The both of you were invited to go to a local bar just outside of the city by mutual friends to celebrate the end of finals week. You and Rafe hadn't seen much of one another due to conflicting schedules and reached an understanding that there wasn’t going to be much time to spend together until the semester was over, and you both jumped at the chance to let loose and forget the horrors of testing.

One of your friends, Violet, had been smoking a joint by the time you got to her apartment to get ready, and because the stress of finals was over, you decided to let loose and enjoy the first night of freedom by smoking to celebrate. You weren’t quite sure how fast it happened due to the lack of experience when it came to smoking, but time passed and it felt like the clouds had landed on the ground specifically for you to walk on. Violet had texted Rafe on your behalf to let him know the state of you were in before hopping into an Uber to the bar.

Rafe arrived first and saw the place wasn’t as packed as the bars back in the city and appreciated the stillness. Pool tables were situated in every corner and he could see his friends throwing darts as he grabbed a drink from the bartender who gave him a friendly smile before leaving to help another customer. Rafe didn’t know what to expect from you tonight. The only other time you had been high was a few months prior, and even then you were quite tame after taking a single hit from Topper.

“Baby!” you said louder than usual when you saw his frame from afar. Rafe turned around and grinned widely at the sight of you sauntering to him, his arms reaching out to pull you in an embrace as he lifted your frame off of the ground. He let you greet the rest of the party before settling his arm around your waist, your head leaning on him. JJ, one of your mutual friends, helped you regain your balance when you accidentally bumped into a stool chair.

“You havin’ fun?” he asked. Rafe chuckled at the state of your red eyes and kissed your temple when you nodded shyly.

“I feel really good right now,” you said. “Violet thought it would be better if I wore flat shoes.” You pointed at your white Converse high tops. “I came wearing heels but I think she had a better idea.”

“Thanks, Vi,” he said, looking up at the girl who you had walked in with. She gave Rafe a friendly nod and resumed talking to JJ, her long term boyfriend.

“I literally feel like I could die happy,” you said, aimlessly looking around, not focusing on one thing or the other. 

“We definitely don’t want that tonight,” Rafe said. “Better keep you close just in case.” He maneuvered himself so that his back was resting on the bar and your body was resting in his chest, your head on the fabric of his shirt, nuzzled as if you were in the comfort of your own bed. Rafe grinned at you and stroked the side of your head, watching the rest of the party interact with one another.

“Hey, man,” JJ said, nodding Rafe in acknowledgement. “You gonna get a drink, Y/N?” JJ noticed the lack of alcohol by you and Rafe, but you shook your head the same time Violet did.

“She’s pretty high,” said Violet, who had been pressed against JJ’s side. His grip on her waist tightened when she laughed at your state of being, watching as you dug yourself a spot on Rafe’s chest. “I think she shouldn’t be crossfaded tonight, at least.”

“That’s why you’re the smart one in this relationship,” JJ said before pressing a quick kiss to Violet’s lips. “Kelce, Pope, and John B. are on their way. I think they should be about ten minutes?”

“Don’t worry, man,” Rafe said. “I’m gonna keep Y/N company and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” Violet and JJ leave the two of you in favor to start a conversation with Topper and his girlfriend Maddie, whom you met during an economics class and became food friends with, would periodically check up on you throughout the night. 

For the duration of the evening, you don’t leave Rafe’s side very often. When he’s talking to your mutual friends, who come to understand that you’re incredibly high and are experiencing this for the first time, they stick to playfully teasing you including you in the conversation when you’re turning in, accommodating when you zone out. 

Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you look with glossy eyes and the tip of your nose a fair shade of pink. Your cheeks are tinted red and your lips are wet from constantly licking him. He squeezes your hip when you silently beg for attention and periodically presses kisses to your temple, leaving you in a state of bliss. 

By now, your arms were wrapped loosely around him and he swayed the both of you back and forth to the song you didn’t know the name of. You looked between him and the exposed chest from four open buttons on his shirt and he looked down at you with the corners of his mouth lifted into an amused grin.

“You’ve been so clingy all night, baby,” he said, giving your hips a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled. You could feel your tongue in your dry mouth and licked your lips. “Just enjoying this feeling.”

“Of being high?” he asked. You nodded.

“God, I don’t know why I didn’t do this before,” you replied. “I feel so good. Maybe it’s because finals are over or maybe I just really like being high.” Rafe laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple and you could feel his warm mouth on your skin. When he leaned back to look at you, he could see that your eyes were trained on him and your mouth parted slightly.

“You okay, baby? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” you began, but paused. He could see your eyes were trying hard to focus on his facial features and he brought his hand up to your jaw and used the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek.

“Yeah? What are you thinking of, pretty girl?” You licked your lips once more and your gaze flickered from his chest to his eyes.

“I’m thinking about how much I want you to eat my pussy in the back of your car.”

Rafe’s eyes widened and he didn’t hide the fact that he was taken by surprise. Out of the time the two of you had been dating, things didn’t go farther than kissing or grinding against one another in the bedroom, and Rafe never wanted to pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with. As far as he knew, you were comfortable with the amount of sexual activity that had taken place, which is why he was so surprised when you openly expressed your desire. 

“W-What?” he asked, choking on his words. He looked around to see if any of your friends were paying attention but they were too busy engrossed in a conversation or were incredibly drunk themselves. You were running your hands over his chest and touching his jeans to the point where he was aware of how close your fingertips are to his member and had to shift himself so that his friends can’t see what you’re up to. 

“I need your mouth so badly,” you whined, a pout forming on your lips as you do. Rafe looked at you and he swore his cock had hardened by the desperation in your glossy eyes and wordlessly took your hand in his and pulled you out of the bar and into the near barren parking lot with the exception of a few cars. Where he parked was barely lit, off to the side of the gigantic light that illuminated the open space. He unlocked his car and pushed you gently into the backseat until you looked situated enough. Rafe squatted outside of the backdoor as your legs dangled out the side and you've managed to take your jean shorts off so that it’s pooling at your legs. 

“Babe,” he said. “You sure?” 

“I need your fucking mouth on my pussy,” you whine, reaching down to put your hand over your clothed entrance to move your panties aside. Rafe watched as you worked your already glistening slit, your hands delicately moving as you looked at him, a silent message that he can only interpret as you silently begging for his mouth. 

Rafe wasted no time giving you what you want other than to take your panties off completely and throw them into the front seat. His tongue flattened against your core and you let out a loud and obscene moan, but neither of you cared to check if anyone was in the dark parking lot or not. His hands were on both of your thighs and he could hear your breaths become increasingly shallow as his tongue worked wonders, moving like he needed to lap up every last drop if he wanted to live to see another day. 

He would feel your legs shaking and did his best to keep a hold on you, his arm on your body to hold you down as you squirmed and bucked your hips. Your legs could spread only so wide in the confinements of the car, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spread them wider for easier access. Rafe moaned against your body and you shuddered at the feeling of his vibration being sent up your body, your ears ringing with pleasure. 

Your boyfriend could feel your hands wander to the back of his head and didn’t mind you tugging on his roots. It encouraged him to move his tongue faster and harder as he felt you pull his hair and moan with approval. The tip of his tongue darted in and out of your entrance and you screamed in euphoria, mumbling about how you were going to release any second. 

Rafe prepared by lapping your core with his tongue like he needed this. His chin was covered in your slick and his head was moving with the rhythm of his tongue, listening as you told him you were coming and felt your legs tremble beneath him. White pearls escaped your core and Rafe was quick to catch them with his tongue, enjoying the feeling of you sliding down his throat. As you were coming down from your high, and as Rafe was cleaning the mess he made, you reached for his hand and put it where his mouth was.

“Y/N?” he asked timidly, looking up at you. “Are you sure you want this?” 

You knew him too well. You knew Rafe would ask you if you were comfortable with doing anything before he made his move and he would reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when you were with him. Before deciding to smoke a few blunts upon coming to the bar tonight, you had considered asking Rafe to experience this euphoria with you in full without him holding back. But because finals rolled around, you thought it was best to wait until it was over, and your current state heightened your preexisting feelings. 

He mistook your silence as a sign to stop, so he pulls his hand away. 

“We can stop if you want,” he said. You shook your vigorously and put his hand back to your entrance. 

“Rafe, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you said, grinding your hips against the palm of his hand. “I’ve been so shy about asking you to fuck me but I’ve been thinking about your cock so much that I can’t focus.” Rafe’s eyes widened at the sudden confession. “I just want you to use me until you’re done with me.” 

Rafe choked. 

“Baby-”

“Do it,” you said forcefully. “I want you to use me.” 

Rafe’s jaw has gone slack and all of his fantasies with you came rushing to the front of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded, telling him you trust him not to hurt you because you knew that’s what he was thinking about. 

“Baby, I’ll never be done with you.” 

His hands started to tease your entrance slowly, and when you whined and begged for him to move faster, he placed a harsh and prominent slap on your pussy that made you jump in surprise. Rafe waited for your reaction and upon seeing the dirty smile on your face, he did it again. 

“So fucking wet for me, huh? Baby wants my fingers?” he taunted. 

“I want them inside of me,” you moaned. Rafe’s heart was still beating fast and he tried to slow his heart rate when he heard how vocally expressive you are, not used to the idea of you being open sexually. But he embraced your confidence and promised himself to give you what you wanted and what you could handle. 

“I can’t say no to you, can I?” 

Rafe’s got you sat up properly in the car, your back against the rest as he moved his arm to move his fingers against your clit, which made your eyes close shut. He covered his fingers in your slick from the previous time you came and put his middle finger inside of you, relishing in the feeling of you moaning with your head tilted back against the headrest. 

As you emit high-pitched moans, all Rafe could think about was how lucky he was to have someone who trusted him. You were willing to drop your panties in a public parking lot, and moaned so loudly that he wa’s sure the patrons in the bar heard you over the loud music. His eyes looked at you in adoration as he added another finger and pumped his hand faster while you moaned louder. Rafe didn’t bother fixing himself because he knew his cock was hard by the sight of your legs spread for him and your mouth begging him to make you come. 

He used this moment to unzip his jeans and push them down far enough to palm himself through his boxers. His half-hardened member was aching and he desperately wanted to pull himself out, but he stuck with focusing on making you orgasm for the second time before pleasuring himself until his vision grew hazy. 

“I’m gonna,” you said, not bothering to finish your sentence. Rafe couldn’t say anything and when you let out the moan that signaled what was about to come, you held onto his wrist as he kept his fingers inserted inside of you and he felt your come drip onto his fingers, smirking at the way you were holding his fingers in place for him. He moved his hand from your core and brought them up to your lips with a smirk. You didn’t have to be told twice and he watched as you welcomed his long digits into your mouth, your tongue working to lap yourself from his hand.  

Rafe stood there with his mouth opened slightly and his heart beating faster. You moved yourself onto your knees and pulled your top of your head and discarded your bra, leaving you completely naked while Rafe was still fully clothed. Your hand reached out for his boxers and Rafe looked down at you. 

“Babe,” he said. “It’s okay.” 

“Rafe,” you deadpanned. “I want you to feel good too. I want to take care of you. Can I do that?” 

When Rafe nodded, you pulled him out of his boxers and bit your lip at his already impressive size for being half hard. You looked at Rafe and saw as his eyebrow creased when you stroked him slowly, allowing yourself to bask in his glory before moving your body down the car seat to put your mouth around his head. 

Rafe had received blowjobs in the past, but the combination of being semi-public and realizing the girl he loves was willing to make him feel good for the sake of seeing him happy made his mind race a million miles per hour. You pushed his jeans down with his boxers for more access and, slowly, your mouth began to take him farther into your throat. 

His hips bucked voluntarily and he cursed himself for taking it too far with you until he saw your body inch forward to take more of him into your mouth until the entirety of his cock disappeared into your mouth. He groaned and knew you were okay with him being rough with you, and reached his hand out to place it on the back of your head. Rafe was unapologetic when he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, caressing your body until his fingers reach your entrance once more. 

When you felt him delicately put his fingers into you once more, collecting the remnants of come, you moaned against his cock and it sent shivers down your boyfriend’s spine. It taunted him to reach his orgasm quicker and when you look up at him through your lashes, he gives little to no warning before moving your head down to the base of his cock as he releases into your mouth. 

Your dirty smile was apparent, trying to accommodate to the surprise. When you were able to take him out of your mouth, a string of spit connects his tip with your tongue and you stroke him to keep him hard. 

“My love,” he whispered to himself, eyes shut and head tilted back. You watched him as he tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he fumbled with the buttons. His cock was still standing, erect and proud, when he remembered he had an extra joint and a lighter in the glove compartment. 

You watched as Rafe pulled it out of the messy box and you licked your lips as you made room for him in the backseat. The both of you were completely naked and your leg swung over his lap, making yourself at home by sitting directly on his still-hardened cock. Rafe watched as you ground your bare pussy over him and did his best not to be too distracted as he lit the joint, grinning when he successfully lit the piece and brought it to your mouth to take the first hit. 

Your lips lingered around the joint for a moment before releasing, a faint cloud of white smoke filling the space of the car. Rafe realized the door was still open and reached over to slam it shut before you passed the joint to him. You watched as his lips enveloped the joint and he puffed in the opposite direction, and the both of you can feel the atmosphere change. Rafe was bucking his hips to meet your movements as you moved down onto him, and he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and sloppy kisses on your skin. You were too busy enjoying yourself to realize the both of you had passed the joint back and forth so quickly upon seeing it crumble. 

Rafe took the remnants and smoked what he could before you hastily put your mouth on his. You were taken by surprise and released the smoke into your mouth, and you kept yourself from shaking at the sheer pleasure. His mouth moved against yours in what you can describe as wonder; Rafe’s hands roamed your body while his tongue explored every corner of your mouth. When you felt his mouth move your breasts and his whimpers at the feeling of you on his cock, you looked at him. 

“Rafe,” you moaned. Rafe’s attention moved from your breasts to your gaze and he could feel your hand moving his cock to your entrance. He moaned loudly when you moved your body to sink down on him completely and he recalled that your core was coated with two previous orgasms. 

He could barely believe that you, who he thought was too shy to talk about taking it farther in the bedroom, was bouncing on his cock like you’d done it before. Your hands were planted on his shoulders and he could feel as your ass dug itself into his lap before lifting yourself up just to press yourself back down on him. His hands found their way to your ass cheeks and he gave them a harsh slap simultaneously, your head falling to his chest as you winced, followed by a pornographic moan. 

Your hips moved like clockwork and he tried to match your pace, lifting his hips up to meet your pussy. The sound of skin against skin, and the smell of the joint made Rafe’s mind think this was what Heaven was, and he would be damned if he didn’t get to experience Heaven with you. 

Rafe could tell you were getting tired of the heavy lifting and took the liberty to hold your body with his arm behind your back. He lifted you above him only slightly before he lifted his hips up and down repeatedly to drill his cock into you hard and fast, causing you to moan directly into his ear. He let curses leave his mouth and you said his name like a prayer when you felt himself in you fully, the sound of your wetness coating his cock. 

Your third orgasm, his second, was approaching. He pulled your hair back to give himself access to your neck and didn’t bother to be gentle; his mouth left marks on your neck and you encouraged him by begging for his mouth on your skin. 

“You gonna come soon, baby?” you asked after regaining your breath, teasing him when you saw his eyes wired shut and his jaw clenched. Rafe’s eyes snapped open and his hand attached itself to your jaw, jerking your head to look into his eyes directly. You laughed seductively and left your mouth hung open when you felt Rafe slow his motions, thrusting into your particularly hard at your choice of words. 

“Do you enjoy using me to get yourself off?” he asked in between thrusts. You were barely able to answer and he tightened his grip. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you struggled to say, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he grunted. “Where do you want it, tits or mouth?” You shook your head. 

“Inside of me,” you said. “You have to come inside of me, okay? I don’t want to get your car dirty.” 

“Fuck,” he said, his voice cracking. 

“Baby, I need it so badly,” you coaxed. “All I’ve wanted is your come inside of me and we can’t ruin your car, okay? Can you do that for me, please? Come inside of me?” 

Rafe didn’t utter another word. You bit your lip and smiled when you felt his come coat your walls and pushed yourself onto his cock when he let out a loud, deep, and vocal moan in your ear. His chest was pressed against yours and neither of you cared about the heat generated between the two of you. He kept your body close as he orgasmed for the second time and you followed soon after. 

He left delicate kisses on your shoulder and you moved your body to ride him slowly, and both of you can feel the cum dripping out of your pussy and onto his cock. Rafe took this opportunity to put his hands back on your ass cheeks and guided you up and down, using your come as lubrication. He could hear the wet sounds and watched you from the rearview mirror as your body moved against him one more time, and he promised the both of he was going to make you come one last time. 

The both of you could tell the final round wouldn’t last very long, but neither of you cared. Rafe reached up to press his lips messily against yours and moved your bodies as if they were in sync the entire time. His thrusts were getting sloppy and he could tell your body was getting tired of moving in the same position, which coaxed him to thrust his hips up into you, ignoring the numbing feeling to hear you moan over and over again until you come on his cock, again for the fourth time. 

He released inside of you once more and allowed you to calm down to catch your breath. You were the first to move off of him and both of you witnessed the white, creamy mess you had made. Rafe reached down to your pussy once more and used the pads of his fingers to move it in circles against your clit and you moaned in ecstasy until it became too much, and he pulled his hand away before finding a tissue box to clean the both of you up. 

The windows are foggy and both of your hand prints are visible. You open the car door to let fresh, cold air enter the space and sigh in relief as he works to clean the mess. When he discards the tissues to the floor of the backseat, promising himself he’d put it in the trash later, Rafe pulls you towards his chest and you lay your head on the free space as he strokes the back of your head and kisses your temple over and over again.

“Didn’t expect that tonight,” Rafe said after regaining his breath with a laugh. 

“Me either,” you replied. “I think you fucked the high out of my system.” Rafe chuckled and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a brief moment before pulling away. 

“I didn’t know you were thinking about this,” he said, motioning their naked bodies. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You lifted your head and used your hands to cup his jaw and the pads of your thumbs stroked the apples of his cheeks. You nodded slowly and leaned to press a kiss to his lips. It was a short kiss, but Rafe grined when you lean back to look at him. 

“You’ll always be my number one, okay?” Rafe noded. “I feel safe with you. I always will.”

“Let’s go back to my place and sleep, yeah?” 

***

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#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurbs #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #obx #outer banks #my writing #hotbox

[forcefullyawake]

This is for @cupcake-rogue’s like a virgin collab!

Denki x F! Reader

Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff, and a suggestive ending. 

Summary: Sometimes the right person runs into you. Literally. Other times it’s a hero who’s not watching where he’s going.

WC: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari doesn’t do being nervous. 

He’s a hero, a pro, top ten. He worked his ass off during UA, his internships, did everything right, shed his jokester ways, and in the first hero rankings he was in? He placed higher thank even Bakugo. He’s impressive, he thinks, tall and blonde, having grown into himself after those first few awkward years. The point is he’s not nervous around women anymore, doesn’t stutter over his words or make inappropriate comments. He’s cool, mature, a catch for any woman. 

Until, that is, he quite literally runs into you.

“I’m fucking late,” Denki announces to nobody- it’s not like anybody stayed over the night before. It’s a true testament to who he is now that his morning routine can be essentially cut in half and almost nothing goes wrong during it. His hero costume is not only easy to get on, but something that works well with his usual wardrobe, so that he can be out the door in under twenty minutes for times like these. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” He mutters to himself, finally getting all the buttons into place right when the elevator opens up to the ground floor. It’s impressive, actually, that he manages to run into you. With a quirk like his, he’s learned to be constantly aware of his surroundings so nobody gets shocked accidentally. Today, however, he’s not thinking straight and runs directly into you, knocking you (and your paperwork) to the ground. 

He stops dead in his tracks, wanting more than anything to start apologizing, helping you pick things up. You know, things any normal person or hero would do but he finds himself stuck in place. You’re… hot, for lack of a better word. He’ll think of some later. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about you that has him immediately bewitched- mind, body, and soul, just like that. You’re standing now, a scowl on your face and- hey you’re snapping your fingers for some reason, maybe he should listen in.

“Hello? Is anybody any there?” Your voice is understandably irritated, looking him up and down quickly before huffing. “Whatever. Watch where you’re going next time, jerk.” You spin away from him, taking his hopes and dreams right with you. But you walk into his apartment building, and through the glass doors that stand between you he sees you walk to the manager- so you’re either gonna live there or work there. Either way he has a second chance. 

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and a quick glance tells him it’s Mineta, demanding to know where he is- is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Denki shoots off a quick text saying he’s just overslept before hurrying on his way. 

It’s not until later, when he’s finally in his office, that Denki realizes how he was feeling. 

For the first time, in a very long time, Denki Kaminari was nervous. All because of you.

“Stupid hero, not watching where he was stupidly going,” You mutter under your breathe before plastering on a smile when your new apartment manager steps into view. God, this place is so nice. You can’t wait to move in. You have to dropped off the signed leasing forms and then give the place one last look around before the moving trucks start coming in. 

The meeting goes smoothly, which helps ease whatever leftover tension you have from the morning. The keys are in your hands, the boxes are piling up, and your neighbor is out for the day it looks like so you can play music as loudly as you dare. Your day goes just about as well as a moving day can. You get the important things set up first- bed, tv, coffee maker. The creature comforts for when you’re inevitably exhausted tomorrow. You hear movement in the other apartment, frowning at the shared wall with how clearly you can. Hm, that might be annoying. Still, you don’t plan on turning down the music unless asked. 

Almost like clockwork you hear a knock on your door. You pause to lower the volume to a more acceptable level before opening the door, ready to introduce yourself and apologize, make a good first impression and all that only to see-

“You!” You raise an accusatory finger- at the hero who knocked you over and did nothing this morning. “You can’t be my neighbor!”

“I-” He starts, having the good sense to at least look a little sheepish now. “I’m sorry?” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head, making him look even more nervous but you can see his eyes looking over your shoulder to peer into your apartment. 

“Yeah, you should have said that this morning,” It holds less venom than you want, especially when you get distract by the muscles his actions put on display. Huh. Your new neighbor is incredibly built. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Again, whatever. I turned the music down. Goodnight.” You go to close the door but his voice stops you. 

“Hold on, I wasn’t going to ask you to turn it down,” He starts, finally looking away from your apartment, “I liked it. And maybe you can play it for me now? I could help you put stuff away? Make up for this morning?”

You should say no. You’re already getting tired, you have stuff beyond packing to do tomorrow, and it’s stupid to let a complete stranger into your house. Even if he’s a pro hero. And even if he’s cute. You should tell him to get lost. Instead, you open your mouth to hear yourself say,

“Sure, come on in.”

Denki can’t believe his luck when you open your door a little wider to let him in. 

He was so sure you were going to say no- hell, even you looked a little confused when yes came out of your mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it too much. Your place already looked a lot cozier than his, with decorations half in the boxes, even. You have photos up on the walls already, pictures of people who look like you too and people who look like your friends. His own apartment is pretty sparse, just a place he can sleep and eat in. 

“Could you help me in the kitchen?” Your voice carries through the space, having left him behind. “I have some stuff that need to go onto the top shelf.” He follows blindly, biting down so hard on his lower lip it almost bleed when he sees you. You’re not doing anything scandalous, just putting dishes away but the way your arms are raised over your head have given him a glimpse at your skin where your shirt has ridden up. He can feel the blood rush south in his body, embarrassingly. 

“Stop ogling and start helping,” You snap over your shoulder, frowning at him. That snaps him out of his daze, not wanting to leave too soon despite having another early morning shift. He grabs the box you point at, and starts to place the mugs on the top shelf. They look like gifts, he thinks, all of them printed with far too many places for one person to have visited. 

“Your friends get you these?” He asks, trying to sound casually interested, not too desperate, “Or a boyfriend?” You snort at him.

“Friends, mostly, and some family,” You wait a long moment before continuing, “No boyfriends, though.” Denki internally heaves a sigh of relief. 

“I don’t get out much, with my job. But I like to pretend I do,” You say, eyeing the mugs wistfully. “How about you? You travel a lot?”

“That requires taking time off,” Denki says, frowning a little as he tries to remember his last actually relaxing day off. “But you know what they say- if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life!”

“Oh, bullshit,” You snort out, abandoning the box you’ve been unpacking all together. “I love my job, a lot, but I have worked some days.” The tension is broken after that, with Denki asking you to elaborate and you trying to play coy until the rants just burst out of you. It’s not until your stomach gives a loud grumble that you realize neither of you have been unpacking but just talking for the past hour and a half. 

It’s just late enough that a normal dinner is out of the question, but maybe you could order something in?

“I know a good ramen place that delivers here,” Denki volunteers, grinning sheepishly. 

“Are you sure your quirk isn’t mind reading?” You tease him, just to watch him laugh. He’s pretty hot when he laughs, you think, then immediately try to squash the thought. Dinner first, crushing on a hero later.

Dinner is ordered.

Denki’s right, the ramen is good and it comes quick. The two of you slurp your soup in silence, the awkwardness returning from before. Denki seems almost unable to look at you now, for some reason. He focuses in so hard on his bowl you’re surprised it doesn’t go up in smoke. You want to ask him about it but you can’t figure out how to phrase the question. 

For his part, Denki is having an internal meltdown. When you lean forward to take a sip of the broth your shirt pulls forward just enough that he can see the swell of your breasts. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he’s been around enough, but there’s something about the white of your bra that makes his head spin, makes him feel like a virgin all over again. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him the same moment he blurts out-

“I can see your bra, I’m sorry, don’t kick me out,” All in one breath. You’re silent for a moment, and then another, and another, and Denki regrets every choice he’s made in his life until now that brought him here. You keep not saying anything and a million and one scenarios run through his head, each one worse than the next. Oh my god, what if you tell people? He’ll be known as the pervert hero, he won’t be able to work in Japan anymore, he’ll have to someplace like America or-

“Would you like to see more of it?” Your voice is soft, shy as your hands twist in the bottom of your shirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s sure he’s misheard you because there’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you are. 

“More?” He manages to croak out. You don’t reply, but your shirt keeps going upwards. Your shirt continues upwards until it’s off of you and Denki’s brain has finally, truly short circuited. 

You’re not sure what’s possessing you to be so bold- maybe the conversation, maybe the way the food has made you comfortably warm and a little drowsy, maybe you just wanna see what he’ll do next. It’s cute, endearing even, how his eyes can’t figure out where to look. He can’t decide if he wants to throw himself at you or away from you. 

“More,” You agree, moving closer to him on the couch, taking the bowl from his hands to set on the table in front of you. Denki stops breathing as you move even closer to him, your face swimming in front of his eyes. “Tell me if I should stop?”

“Never,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours, tasting like a promise, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s so easy to fall into him, like you’ve known him forever, like this is as easy as breathing. 

It’s sunrise, somehow. Denki is still there, blissfully unaware as you watch him sleep. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t watch where he was going the previous morning. 

Now, though, you wouldn’t mind running into him again. 

#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki x female reader #denki fluff #denki kaminari fluff

[volantium]

count the windows to your fire escape (aka 1k of soft domestic fluff, also on ao3) 

Harley wakes slowly.

The sunlight filters in between the blinds, leaving streaks of gold across the hardwood floor of their apartment. Dust floats in the air like shining pinpricks of bright, sparkling stars in what Harley’s starting to realise is the midday sun.  

Flings out an arm across the other side of the bed in his sleep-fogged haze, and it’s when he doesn’t accidentally-on-purpose hit the other body that’s usually beside him that he wakes up proper. He blinks his eyes open, slate grey-blue with the unique exhaustion that comes with being a mechanical engineering working for Stark Industires. Twists around to pick up his work phone on the bedside table. Takes a brief look at the myriad notifications underneath the damning 13:03 and promptly flings it down the bed. He can already feel it vibrating with another message between the covers.

It’s his day off. Fuck the phone.

Their day off, and Peter’s nowhere to be found.

If Harley was any less of a morning person than he already isn’t, early afternoon as it is, he would’ve noticed by now the faint sound of music playing throughout the apartment. Hozier drifting softly from the where the record player sits in their hallway by the kitchen back to the bedroom.

It takes him another fifteen minutes to roll out of bed. Runs a hand through his hair in order to bring it under some semblance of control, despite it being a futile effort. Shrugs a t-shirt on that from the sandalwood smell of it is actually Peter’s. Trails a hand along the wall as he pads down the hallway, eyes skimming over the plethora of family photos they’ve gathered over the years. Harley’s favourite—by far—is the one of he, Morgan, and Peter, crowded together in the frame as if the confines of the photographs were too small to contain them. Harley has one arm looped around Peter’s waist, the other in the process of fist bumping Morgan, dressed to the nines for her university graduation, the bachelors degree held aloft in Peter’s hand like the holy grail. The thing that gets him about it is the look on Peter’s face. Looking at the two of them like they hung all the stars in the sky and—Harley’s gotten used to it, sure, they’ve been together for years—but it never fails to make him short of breath, the sheer amount of love shining in those honey-caramel eyes.

There’s another one, from a lifetime ago, of him and Abby and their mom, that sits in pride of place at his desk in the office, right beside the picture of his and Peter’s own graduation, three years ago.

Harley stops in the hallway, just before the threshold of the kitchen. Peter is facing away from him, standing at the counter messing with what’d be an overkill of scrambled eggs and bacon if he wasn’t Spider-Man. Take a moment just to watch before making his way over.

“What’re you doin’ in my kitchen, darlin?” He says, winding his arms around Peter’s stomach, dropping his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Last time I checked,” Peter replies, and it’s the way he unhesitant leans back into Harley’s chest that get’s Harley, every time. “Both of our names were on the lease.”

Harley laughs in the curve of Peter’s neck. “Last time I checked, we both agreed you and your non-existent cooking skills weren’t allowed in here.”  

Peter doesn’t reply straight away, and in Harley’s sleep-hazed brain it takes a while for it to click, how unusual that is for him not to quip back right away. By the time it finally does he’s all but dozing hooked over Peter’s shoulder, swaying the both of them gently to the sound of Hozier’s Irish croon of ‘cause my baby’s sweet as can be, she gives me toothaches just from kissin’ me.

“Peter?” He murmurs, lifting his head. “You alright in there?”

It takes a second, but then Peter’s blinking back at him with a small smile spreading across his face, like an early morning sunrise, soft and surprising in it’s beauty.

“Yeah, baby,” he says, twisting his head to brush a kiss across Harley’s cheekbone. “Never better.”

Harley hums, a nonsensical sound to encourage Peter to explain. Peter turns his focus back to the frying pan. Poke’s uselessly at the mass of eggs with the bright pink spatula MJ had gotten them as a house-warming gift for reasons that Harley still isn’t sure of.

Harley plucks the spatula out of Peter’s hand. “How did you manage to burn these already?”

“I just really love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” Harley replies automatically, setting the spatula on the bench. “That was random.”

“Not really.”

“A little bit, darlin’.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Peter agrees, twisting around and twining his arms around Harley’s neck. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“No,” Harley says, eyes flickering over the soft and content look on Peter’s face. “I suppose not.”

“It’s just—”

Peter cuts himself off, but Harley knows. Harley knows. Because it’s the same thing he’s thinking about. They fit like a puzzle piece. Have ever since Tony introduced them and decided that the world could handle the unique chaos the two of them had the potential to cause. Harley doesn’t believe in soulmates but Christ, if he did—he’d be Peter’s and Peter would be his. The world doesn’t deserve Peter Parker and that’s the truth. But Harley will be forever grateful for him, the fact that they met on a Tuesday afternoon, the fact that even now, years and years later on yet another fateful Tuesday, he’s bursting at the seams with it, this all-encompassing, hard-to-put-into-words love they have for another.

“I know,” he says, instead, hand running up Peter arms to cup his jaw.

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harley dips his head to press a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth, easy as anything. “I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.”

It comes out a soft, tender admission, mumbled against Peter’s lips. The agreeing hum from the back of Peter’s throat switches into a drawn-out moan halfway through when Harley catches his teeth on Peter’s bottom lip. It goes like that for a while, making out against the kitchen counter like when they were teenagers, trading lazy kisses in the early afternoon sun as the eggs get overcooked beside them.

Harley drifts back to reality with Peter’s hands tangled in his hair and the smell of burnt bacon in his nose.

“Love me enough even though I burn everything I touch?” Peter grins cheekily up at him.

“And then some, darlin’,” Harley replies. “C’mon, I’ll makes us a late breakfast.”

“Coffee?”

Harley leaves one last, lingering kiss on Peter’s lips. “You’re the best.”

And as Peter moves away to make then coffee, and Harley takes over the sad excuse of scrambled eggs on the stovetop, he thinks, yeah, this, always.

#parkner #parley #harley keener #peter parker #i do hate how italics never copy over on this fucking website #p: parkner #u: mcu #drabble #f: fire escape verse

[presentmicsongbird]

Yandere!Miriko x reader

It started out small. Little gifts, knick-knacks, and fancy jewelry started showing up on your desk almost every day for the past 5 months. At the very least, you were confused, but you did appreciate the gesture. It just bummed you out that you didn't know who kept sending them, none of the items ever came with a card, or even an initial.

However, there was one thing that that they all had in common: they all had some sort of bunny rabbit design. The first gift you recieved happened after you came back from a cafe you visited regularly for lunch. 

A small white box tied with a purple silk ribbon, no bigger than your palm, sat in front of your computer. You looked around to see if anyone would come by and tell you it was theirs or was about to tell you it was from them, but it never happened. 

Shifting your attention back to the box, you carefully picked it up and inspected it, wondering if it was a prank, but you shook your head, deciding it was a ridiculous thought. You pulled on the ribbon and opened the lid, immediately turning your eyes into saucers at the item inside.

A small diamond encrusted pendant in a shape of a bunny head rested on top of a velvet colored foam, a pair of carefully cut amethyst gems, as its eyes, gleamed while your mouth gaped open and closed. 

This thing must've cost a fortune. 

You lifted it off the box and out followed a thin silver chain, looking just as expensive as the pendant. You couldn't believe it, there had to be some sort of mistake. You weren't very popular at work, in fact, you mostly kept to yourself and got the job done in record time. Sure you were praised by your boss and a few of your friends, but you doubt any of them would go this far for your "good job." 

 You snapped out of your thoughts and put the necklace back in its box, carefully placing it in a drawer before finishing the rest of the paper work piled on your desk. You'll wait a few days and see if anyone would come and get it. Until then, you'd rather not take the risk of being called a thief. 

The next day rolled by, and to your surprise, another white box sat in front of your computer, this time it was a rectangular box with a purple rose at the corner, slightly bigger than the one you got yesterday. You asked the other staff if they'd seen  who dropped it off, but they all said no. 

You sat down and opened the box, this time it was a fluffy white bunny keychain with a purple ribbon wrapped around its neck. And just like the pendant, its eyes were an amethyst color. You sighed and checked the box again to see if there was a note, but to no avail. You looked back at the bunny and gently pet its head, the corners of your mouth curving slightly at how soft it was. It may have been strange, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't cute. 

This continued on for a while, the anonymous gifts came everyday as usual, and somewhere along the second or third week, you had decided to wear the necklace and hang the keychain on the zipper of your bag, earning a handful of comments saying how lucky you were or asking who the secret admirer was. You simply smiled and gave a small shrug. The gifts ranged from gel pens, headbands, bunny labels, (which became incredibly useful for your notes and binders), and, one time, even a assortment basket with chocolate bunnies and flowers. 

This, of course, also started up some rumors saying that you were in charge of all the gifts and sent it to yourself to get attention. You couldn't even if you wanted to, you worked in the financial department sure, but the pay wasn't that high that you can buy gifts everyday. 

You were able to convince a majority of the employees, but a few of the bratty ones stuck around and would occasionally give out snide remarks or jealous glances your way. Even so, you chose to ignore them since they didn't really get in the way of your work. Plus, with the gifts instantly making your day and never failing to make you go home with a smile, it seemed like there was nothing that could go wrong.

you really wished you had knocked on wood.

On a particular day, you were on your desk finishing the financial report for this year, gently tapping your (newly gifted) bunny pen against your desk,  until one of the female workers decided to "accidentally" spill her cup of hot coffee on your lap. Naturally, you let out a shriek that alerted everyone in proxmity and soon your were covered in paper towels and icepacks.

You looked up in tears and saw it was  one of the girls from the general office. You didn't remember her name, but you knew the red hair and the three scales on her cheek. She was one of the workers who cursed at you under her breath. She was standing a few feet away from your desk, her empty cup still in her hand. 

"What the hell is your deal?!" One of your friends yelled. The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

"My deal? My deal is the unfair treatment in this damn place!"

What

It wasn't your fault that you kept recieving gifts, and they never have notes on them so couldn't return them even if you wanted. (Not that you ever would.) You had learned to like the gifts, though creepy at first, they seemed like a kind enough gesture. You broke away from your thoughts once the woman started screaming again. 

"We're here working our arses off, but SHE gets all these things EVERYDAY and for what? For counting a few bucks? Puh-lease. Any idiot can do-" 

"ENOUGH!" You all turned your heads to the booming voice and saw your boss standing by the doorway. His usually friendly smile was gone and replaced with a thin line and his arms crossed. He turned to you and to the red haired woman.

"You, in my office now." 

"Bu-" he cut her off. 

"Now." She scurried off, but not before giving me one last hateful glance and left. "The rest of you make sure (y/n) is okay. (Y/N)," 

You were still trembling, but the pain subsided after the burn cooled down. Thankgoodness you chose to wear pants today. With a shaky breath you managed to say quiet "yes?" 

"If you're feeling better, feel free to go home for the day. The report can be handed in next week." And with that, he turned around and left. The ones that were helping you cool down sighed in relief and started asking if your were alright, a few individuals walking away to throw the damp towels in the trash. You nodded meekly and managed a smile. 

"Yeah, it just....surprised me that's all." They all gave you apologetic looks as they went back to their own desks, one by one. Your friend, the one who yelled at the red haired woman, placed her hand on your shoulder and handed you another icepack. 

"Don't worry, she'll be out of this place for good. You know how the boss gets  when it comes to stuff like this." 

"I guess." You replied. 

"You think your secret admirer will hear about this?" Oh gods, you really wished he or she wouldn't. Its troublesome enough that you got gifts everyday, you wouldn't want them to bother with a mere bully. You were a grown woman, you could handle this much without causing a bigger scene. 

"I hope not." 

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

You left the office after getting a spare change of clothes from your friend. Thankfully, the report you had to do had only one more calculation so you didn't need to worry about rushing.

As you laid in bed clutching your big stuffed toy rabbit. (A gift from last week) You began to wonder who this mysterious admirer really was, were they playing with you? What was it about you that caught their attention? Have you met before? 

Questions filled your head for what felt like hours until the buzzing of the dryer downstairs signaled you clothes to be all clean and ready to be worn again. You took it out of the machine and ironed it quickly, carefully placing it on a hanger to be used tomorrow. You were too tired to pick out a new uniform, this one will do. Right now, all you needed was sleep. 

"This just in: two boys find a corpse inside a dumpster. Investigators suggest a potential homicide by unknown assailant.” 

The reporter on the TV gestured behind her as medical teams tried to make sense of the dead body. Its face was completely bashed it, you could barely recognize its features. Its hair looked as if it were burned off and all thats left were burnt scabs left in patches. 

"Geez, so early in the morning and this happens? What a mood killer." Your friend rolled her eyes and leaned back over her desk to finish her work. 

Against almost everyone's wishes, you decided to come to work the next day as well as hand it your report. It was boring not having to do anything at home so you chose work instead. Besides, it's Friday, no way were you going to break your weekly self-treats. 

"Seriously, y/n, you're too stiff. You know what people here would give for a three day weekend?" You giggled at her frustration. It's not your fault you couldn't sit still for more than 2 seconds. 

"Oh by the way, did you get a new gift today from your admirer?" 

Ah yes...how could you have possibly forgotten. 

You took out a white and sparkly paper bag from under your desk and showed it to her.

"Yup." You dug through the papers and pulled out a purple wallet with a white bunny in the corner. You "awed" before moving all your credit cards and wallets from your old purse to your new gift. Before you could get started on your paperwork, you friend called out.

"Hey check this out." You looked over and saw a card in her hand...

Oh crap...no way. That's an actual card. 

You quickly snatched the folded paper and read it over once. Twice. There was no mistake on what was on it. 

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, little bunny. Rest assured, the brat won't bother you anymore.   -R.U" 

What the heck? How did they even know about that? And R.H? You didn't recognize the initials. Maybe someone talked about it outside of work...Yea that's a good reason. 

"Huh, makes sense." 

"What does?" 

"Haven't you heard? The girl who spilled her coffee on you was fired yesterday." Well that explains a few things. 

The day went by rather quickly, and before you knew it everyone was packing up their stuff and heading home. You on the other hand went to your favorite coffee shop.

As soon as you paid and left with your drink, you followed your usual route home, thankful for the peaceful night.

You spoke too soon, apparently.

After the train stopped at your station, a few gun men tool all exiting passengers as hostage including yourself. 

You just couldn't catch a break, could you. You clutched your bag tightly against your chest, glancing down at the bunny keychain hanging from the zipper. 

You couldn't die here. Not now, not when you haven't met your admirer yet, not when you haven't said thank you.  

As you cradled the keychain in your palm, you could've sworn its eyes glowed, though you were probably just scared out of your mind.

As if answering your prayers, a voice called out from the other platform. 

"Lookie what we got here, a bunch kids wanting to play villains. You picked a wrong day to piss me off." 

Miriko! The bunny hero! Thank the gods. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, a smug grin on her face as she continued to taunt your captors. 

Before they could get a word out, three men were knocked to the ground, and two more followed after. 

"Hey you!" You looked up at the last masked man standing and gulped. He pulled your arm up and held a gun to your temple. "A-Alright, Hero, you think you're tough, huh?" Take one more step and i shoot this girl's head to bits!"  

You saw Miriko standing a few feet away, it could've been your imagination, but you thought you saw her eyes darken as she growled, getting into a fighting stance. 

"Im warning you!" He dug his fingers deeper in, making you cry out. Before you could blink, you heard a sharp grunt before getting pulled into a plush chest. You blushed knowing who it belonged to. 

"Yeah, right, warnings shwarnings, tell it to the cops, you bastard." 

With all the gun men down, everyone cheered for the Bunny hero's rescue, thankful for their lives being saved.

You, on the other hand were still in Miriko's arms, and from the way they held you, she didn't seem to have the intention of letting go. Slowly you pried yourself away and bowed, saying your thanks as well before turning to to go home. But before you could, you felt arm on your shoulder.

"Wait just a second here, miss. Are you sure you're alright going home by yourself? That was a pretty scary thing back there." You simply smiled and nodded. 

"Y-yes. Thank you for your concern Miriko-san, but i'll be okay." 

"Alright, but just to be safe, i'm escorting you home." 

Wait...what? 

"No-really, i'm fine you don’t have t-" she cut off with a loud laugh. 

"Haha no need to be shy now, i'm a hero, it's my job. It's no trouble at all, uh.." 

"Y/n." You said quickly.

"Y/n. Pretty name you got." You turned your head to hide a blush. 

“Oh, and might this little one be yours?” 

You turned your head and saw the bunny keychain in her hand. You glanced at the empty zipper and back to the hero. You didn’t even realize it dropped. 

“Y-Yes, I didn’t even notice...thank you.” You gently took it from her hand and tucked it in your bag. You’ll fix it later. 

"Cute...Alright y/n, let's get you home." 

True to her word, she followed you all the way to your apartment, fortunately just to the front lobby. You didn't want all the attention on you. 

"W-well, here's my stop." You turned around and bowed your head. "Thank you again Ms. Miriko."

"And I told you, no problem. I'd do it a hundred times if i had too, doll." You blushed at the pet name, but said nothing as you got on the elevator and giving the bunny hero one last glance.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours now, but it was hard getting the pro-hero's face out of your head. Her proud smile, her strong arms, the way she held you while shielding your body away from your attacker. It felt so...so...surreal. 

You sighed and closed your eyes. With the events still fresh in your head, you slept with a smile on your face, unaware of the amber eyes watching you from outside.   

——

You were absolutely gorgeous, the moment she first laid eyes on you, she knew you were hers. You’ve already met a few months back, when she caught you before face-planting with the concrete. 

Your clumsiness had a bit of a charm, (who wouldn’t be in heels?) you were small, and short....

Vulnerable....

Before she could say another word, you had said your thanks and ran off into the building you were in front of. She was in her casual clothes so you must’ve not recognized her. 

It’s fine...she’ll just have to find another method. 

“I wonder if you like bunnies.” Miriko smirked before heading the other direction, a plan in her head. 

It took some strings and a few calls, but she finally got your schedule and info. She was really glad when she saw you using your gifts everyday. The necklace looked amazing on your neck. 

News travelled fast and so did gossip. That little wench had the guts to hurt you...

You...her mate...her little snowflake...

It took everything in Miriko to not kick everything in her office...

No...it’s fine...

She just needed to have a friendly talk...

Of course it made the news the next day, but she was quick and made sure no tracks were left behind. She will make  sure no one will hurt you again. She’ll have eyes and ears everywhere, including hers.

Perhaps it’s time to take you home...

You need to repay her for those gifts after all. 

[emmies-archives]

The Quiet Help

Ghost!Shinso Hitoshi X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Death,

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You move into your new apartment, unknowing it came with a free roommate. Who is also a ghost, and very good looking?

  The first few nights in a new apartment can be a little difficult to adjust. It takes a while to really know a place. Secrets living in the walls aren’t given as a housewarming gift. Everything is waiting to be discovered. Somethings are good; the sun shining in the windows could light up the entire space, or there was a nice breeze if you opened the shutters. Some, were not as relaxing; the way the walls creaked in the wind, or the way the darkness seemed to gather in the corners of the room at night.

Not everyone knows the history of the place when they first move in. Some never even find anything out about the space they live in. It’s those lucky few that are deemed worthy enough to see what a building really has to offer.

That’s what happened to you, though you weren’t sure if you were exactly lucky.

Your parents always told you to be careful with the energies that flowed around you. Messing with something too much or talking something more than you should could bring something into existence.

You knew not to use things like Ouija boards and other items that had a deep connection with the spiritual world. You always seemed to have a keen sense of those things. Something always urged you to stay away from stuff like that. It was almost like you were blessed.

That old saying that a blessing is also a curse that began to reflect on you though.

You started to notice odd things your second week in your new apartment. Surprisingly you had found a two-bedroom apartment for a pretty low price.

Stuff you swore you had placed in one spot was moved. Shadows stared at you from the corner of your eyes, disappearing when you turned to look. Noises in the middle of the night, right outside of your locked bedroom door. The oddities happening weren’t enough to startle you, but you were shaken enough to ask your friend to stay over for a couple nights. Just to make sure you weren’t losing your mind.

“Thanks again, Mina.” The girl grinned at you with two thumbs up.

“No problem, Y/n! I might get to see ghosts!”

“Hey, no. There are no ghosts here.” You didn’t know if you were trying to convince her or yourself.

After a night of watching movies and a dinner of random snacks, you had in your cupboard, both of you fell asleep quickly. Mina insisted on staying in your room rather than the room down the hall.

It was around two in the morning when the Mina was woken by intense thirst. She moved swiftly from your room to the kitchen without waking you. The groan from the pipes as she got a glass of water did though. She smiled when she came back into the room and saw you up.

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was so cute!” She squealed quietly poking your side. In your sleepy state, you just mumbled and moved away from her hands. It took you a moment for her words to actually register in your brain.

“What!?” You gasped sitting up quickly staring at the girl.

“His purple hair is so adorable!” She giggled and pulled the covers up to her chin, “But don’t worry, if you like him, I guess that I can let you have him this time.”

“Mina.” You whispered after a second. “Are you sure?”

“What are you guys just friends, does that mean I can shoot my shot. Oh my go-“

“Mina, I don’t have a roommate.” You cut off her rambling, a panic look covering your features. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at you.

“Um, then who is on your couch?”

Your heart dropped and you almost pushed Mina out of the bed to get to the living room. You could make out a silhouette of a person on your couch. When you turned on the lights, however, nothing was there. You stood staring at the spot for a moment.

“You okay Y/n?” Mina asked standing in the threshold of your room. An uneasy feeling came over you and you turned to look at her.

“Are you absolutely sure that you saw someone?”

“Yeah! I’m one hundred percent sure.” The small smile fell from her face when she saw your worried state. This proved that you weren’t going crazy. That every weird thing that has happened wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

“We’re sleeping with the lights on.”

  Nothing out of the ordinary happened the next few days, you were too busy to even think about the person that Mina saw. You left for work while the sun was still asleep, coming back home at a time no normal person would be up.

Your work was exhausting. You didn’t notice the small things that were happening around your apartment. When you woke up for work, your clothes were nicely folded on the chair in the corner. The night before you had thrown them in a pile. Something from your fruit basket would somehow end up right next to your keys, it would be your morning meal. Even if you came home and collapsed into bed, falling asleep the moment your head hit your pillow; you would always wake up with a fully charged phone that you never remembered putting on the charger.

There was one day that you noticed something. It was a horrible day out and you had woken up late. Because you were rushing, the thought of grabbing an umbrella slipped your mind completely. You were going to be forced to run to work in the rain until you saw there was an umbrella hooked on the strap of your purse. The place you kept your umbrellas was nowhere near you hung your purse. There was no way you could’ve accidentally placed it there.

Weeks passed and the same things kept on. You started to realize the small things slowly, you knew you never did any of them. The previous signs of a haunting were gone, so you weren’t worried. It wasn’t like these things were harming you in any way.

In a way, you were grateful to whatever thing was helping you along. A good morning definitely led you to be less stressed at work, you even felt more relaxed at home.

The only thing you still wondered about was the boy that Mina saw. You hadn’t seen any more shadows around the apartment, you started to thing the silhouette you saw was just your sleepy eyes believing Mina.

Your conclusion that you were just tired changed one day. The paperwork at your agency was a little less relentless and you were able to leave earlier than normal. The nights of you coming home in the dark had stopped, but you were able to leave in the middle of the day.

Wanting to savor the time off, you went straight to your apartment excited to relax. It took almost no time to get through the door and shed yourself of your outerwear. Something in your gut stopped you, and you looked up towards your kitchen just in time to see a flash of purple hair slip around the corner towards the guest room. Your heart skipped and you rushed forward trying to catch whatever it was.

You threw open the guestroom door but you were met with the empty room. Maybe you really were going crazy. You almost said your thoughts out loud. You walked back to the kitchen and saw something that hadn’t been there when you left.

On your kitchen table sat a half-empty mug of coffee, it was still steaming.

  You decided after that day something, someone else was living in your apartment with you. You were glad that whatever it was wasn’t malicious.

On your next day off you went to the leasing office in search of some answers. There had to be a reason the price of the apartment was so low, you hadn’t thought about it before.

The woman at the leasing off looked a little worried when you questioned her about it.

“They were supposed to tell you about it when you signed the papers.” She said and handed you a file. “It was the tenants before you. There were two boys living there. The younger one was the one who moved out.”

You opened the folder and looked up at her. “What about the other one?”

“Well, he passed away in his room in the middle of the night. He had unknowingly suffered from lasting effects of a villains quirk.” She basically mumbled and pointed at the corner of the file at a picture. There were two boys in it. You recognized the shorter one, it was a younger version of the hero, Deku. “That’s him.” Her finger rested on the taller boy, with wild purple hair.

The only word that fell from your lips was a soft “Oh.”

The story that the leasing agent told you was the only thing on your mind. You had to do something about it.

Using the cover of your hero agency, you got in touch with Deku. You said you had a few questions about his hero gear and wanted to set up a meeting with him. He was fine with meeting you at a local coffee shop.

You brought the file the agent let you borrow with you, holding it tightly into your chest. You saw the green-haired boy sitting at a table in the corner and smiled when he noticed you.

“Hello, Deku.” He nodded with a smile.

“Hi Y/H/N! It’s nice to finally meet you!” He said excitedly. The two of you ordered drinks and started small talk about his equipment, your agencies and being a hero.

“I’m sorry, Deku. I’m afraid I wasn’t completely truthful in why I wanted to meet with you.” You set the file on the table between you. You pulled out the picture and faced it towards him.  

“Is that…” Deku trailed off looking at the picture.

“You see, I live in the same apartment you used to be roommates with him.” Deku starred at the picture with so much intensity you thought it would catch fire from his gaze. “I just wanted to know if you had experienced anything weird after.” You stopped yourself, unsure what to say next. You didn’t want to make the boy upset. He was quiet for a moment starring at the picture still. “I’m sorry, this was stupid to ask you. I’m sorry if I brought up any unpleasant feelings.”

“I did.” He interrupted you.

“What?”

“After, you know,” He motioned to the picture, “ I don’t think that he left completely, per se.”

“That makes sense.” You whispered slightly to yourself.

“I’m guessing he is trying to contact you?”

“I’m not sure. Stuff just keeps happening. At first, it was random and spaced apart. Now it seems something happens every day. My friend even saw him one time.” You had shown Mina the picture and she screamed. You knew now that she wasn’t mistaken.

“I would tell you to be careful but honestly, I don’t think he’s bad. It might be a little scary but I really think he is good. When he was alive, he was one of the most gentle, loving people I knew. It was not fair what happened, but sometimes things are better off this way.” Deku smiled up at you, tears were brimming his eyes. “Can I keep this photo?”

    “Um. Ghost?” You said after a while of pulling courage together. You headed back to your apartment promising to meet with Deku again. “I think I met someone close to you today.”

Nothing happened as you seemingly talked to no one, standing in your kitchen. After a while, you felt like giving up. It was already night time and you had to get up early for work in the morning.

“Before I go to sleep, I guess I should tell you that Midoriya says hello and that he hopes you’re doing well.”

It took you a while to fall asleep, your thoughts were a blur. As you were drifting off though there was a warm presence in front of you.

“Thank you, y/n.” A soft voice said. You looked up with the last bit of consciousness you had and saw a faint glint of purple in the moonlight.

The next day at work seemed to pull all of your energy from you. You had fought three different criminals in the streets, you had paperwork up to your ears and you even though you slept the entire night you felt like you didn’t sleep at all.

The morning started out normal, but the day seemed to only progressively get worse. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe in between the criminal attacks. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement.

When you were finally able to go back to your apartment, you still had another report to write. You didn’t remember being a hero was so tedious.

You settled at the coffee table in your living room with your laptop, crossing your legs. About halfway through the report you could feel your vision blurring and decided to take a break. Thinking a glass of water would help, you got up and made your way to the kitchen. In a single second, the ground went from stable to twisting.

You braced yourself to hit the hard tile but instead, you felt arms wrap around you. Your body was limp and you could barely catch your breath. With the last of your strength, you looked up meeting a pair of dark purple eyes.

  When you finally woke, it was with a start. You saw that you were in your bed and confusion set in. How did you end up here?

“You’re up.” You whipped around at the sound of a voice, startled. You calmed slightly when you saw who it came from. The boy from the photo stood a few feet from your bed. He was fairly tall with wild purple hair, dark purple eyes that had heavy bags under them. There was a paleness to his skin. He held his hand at the back of his neck and he looked a little nervous. He took a step forward and you must’ve shifted back because he stopped. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

It took you a second to find your voice, “No, no it's okay.” You looked away awkwardly and picked at the blanket that lay over you. “I’m assuming you caught me.’

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Really, Y/n. You push yourself too hard sometimes.” Your eyes snapped up at him, widened. He knew your name. You felt a little silly at reacting like that. “Shit, I’m sorry. I must be scaring you.”

“No!” You started, causing him to tear his gaze from the ground. “I’m just surprised, you seem to know me so well.”

“Yeah, sorry. You’ve been here for months now, you’re the only person I’ve seen in a while.”

“Oh right, I guess you would know a little bit about me then.” A soft smile fell on your lips, “Thank you for all the little things you’ve done for me in the past. Like hanging my umbrella on my purse that one time. And stop saying sorry!”

“Oh, sorry.” A blush spread across the boy’s cheeks and he grinned slightly, “You’re welcome. I tried to no get noticed.” You moved over on your bed, sitting up all the way. He hesitantly sat on the edge of your bed when you motioned him over. The two of you were quiet for a moment. “Thank you for talking to Midoriya, I-“ He paused, “I think he was someone important to me when I was alive. When you said his name, a couple memories came over me.”

“That’s good, I guess.” You said and looked over at him. There was a sadness to him, it was ever so slight. “Do you not remember before you, um.”

“Not really. When I try to think about it, it feels like my mind is swimming. There are a few things that I can remember, like Midoriya and emotions. But other than that, there isn’t much.” The sadness grew stronger in him, you could see it on his face now. Without even thinking, you reached out to grab his hand. He tensed slightly, and you were surprised that you could actually hold his hand. When he relaxed and smiled at you.

“I don’t know if I can be of any help, but I want to try. As much as you helped me in the past few months, I want to help you.” You whispered.

“I would like that.” He said quietly and after a moment he leaned down resting his head on your shoulder. You squeezed his hand and smiled. “I’m glad I could help you even a little.”

It was quiet for a while between you two, for some reason you felt so close to this boy. This ghost. Somehow there was a connection.

“So, you know a lot about me.” You started and he shifted his head to look up at you. “Is there anything else that you know about yourself?”

He thought for a few seconds and nodded. “My name. It’s Shinso Hitoshi. You don’t have to call me ghost anymore.” You could feel your cheeks burn a bit until a yawn ripped from your throat. Shinso started to get up seeing that you were tiring again. “I know you don’t work tomorrow, but you still need your rest. Y/n”

“Shinso, wait.” You said pulling him down onto the bed again. “Stay with me.”

Shinso smiled at you and rubbed his thumb over your hand. “I can’t promise that I’ll be here when you wake up. Sometimes I can’t hold this form for long.”

“That’s okay, I just don’t want you to be alone right now.” Shinso felt his chest ache slightly, reaching over to turn the lamp off. He slid down in the bed with you and you nestled yourself into his side, his arms wrapping around you. “I hope I didn’t scare you with the things I did.”

You giggled quietly, “Now that I know that the ghost haunting my apartment is this good looking, I think I’ll be okay with being scared more.” You could feel his chest vibrate with his laugh.

“Go to sleep, Y/n.”

“Good night, Shinso.” You whispered and drifted off almost immediately. He placed a small kiss to the top of your hair.

“I’ll try to still hold you in my arms when you wake up.”

#shinsou hitoshi #Shinso #shinso x you #mha shinsou #shinsou imagine #shinsou x oc #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso imagine #bnha #myhero #bnha x reader #requests #bnha request #shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #Shinsou x reader #Shinsou oneshot #Hitoshi oneshot #Shinso imagine #Shinso x reader

[i-am-my-own-goal]

TLDR: Just processing. Any feedback is welcome if you are compelled to do so. Updates on my health and housing situation.

I’m really just using tumblr to process things anymore. However, I HAVE started cooking again and M and I have consistently Been going on walks. I’ll throw some pics at the end. I hit 200 on the scale again and haven’t stepped back on it in a month. I’m still struggling with stress eating and restricting and bingeing. All I ate yesterday was a soft pretzel before our 7 mile hike. We accidentally slept through dinner then a work emergency happened and we didn’t get to eat together, so I just didn’t eat. Now it’s 1pm and I’m in that restriction trap of “how long can I push myself” I know I should eat something. Anything. I also know I fall into a fast food trap when I drive back from M’s where I order a buncha food and binge eat before bed. I’m not in a good place mentally and struggling to care about not eating now and binging tonight.

I’m trying to figure out housing still. At this point, I’m angry that M’s mom moved in. I guess I wish she had said no to his offer. I wish he had given me more time to think about him asking his mom to move in. I wish I wasn’t so selfish because I really don’t think there was a better option. I’m angry thst im work from home and need space for an office. I’m annoyed that we use paper files instead of every other agency I worked at that was all electronic. An at house office then would have just consisted of a laptop and a whiteboard ...not a book case full of blank files and blank worksheets and bins upon bins upon bins of open files and closed files and referrals and holds.

I started looking at apartments closer to M because I can get a two bedroom for the price of a one bedroom by my job. But the affordable two bedrooms here aren’t in the best areas. I wanted two rooms csuse of my office. I found an apartment complex that’s in a safe area and also gated, but it’s the same price as by my job.

I’m realizing I don’t necessarily need two bedrooms. I just want to not look at my work stuff all day. I think I could manage with a one bedroom thst has a good size living room and I can put a partition up. Or find some way to hide my work stuff. I was thinking like, a curtain over the book shelf even.

But if I’m now looking at a one bedroom that’s the same price as by my work, is that irresponsible? I wanted to move closer to work to go to schools more often. But now that I’m closer, I’m finding it just as hard to make time to go and it’s because I’m still doing intakes at home. I’ve added an extra step.

Precovid:

1) go to school for an intake, pull attendance, meet with kids

2) go to office , finish intake, call parents of kids who were absent

3) update files

Covid

1) do intakes in the evenings

2) go to schools and pull attendance

3) go home and call parents of all kids

4) update files

Not a huge difference, but it’s a huge time difference. I met with my kids and got attendance because I’d just so happen to be at that school for an intake. Now it takes planning to get my attendance and time to call the parents.

I don’t see myself going to the schools more often than I am now. And summer is approaching.

So, I see M more than to to the schools. Is it irresponsible to then move closer to M? Is it more responsible to stay closer to my job just in case I need to go to a school?

I’d been prioritizing work over M. Now I’m feeling like I want to prioritize M over work. This job isn’t forever. It’s until I finish school. M is hopefully more long term. I’ve been really emotionally off since moving out. Add that his mom lives with him and it’s stressful being at his place. And my place isn’t any better and he can’t sleep over at my house because of my parents religious beliefs. Hence why i just go to him. We get more time together. There’s also more to do here (food, trails, etc). It’s just food where I am. Not many trails, only one free one.

We would alternate weekends if I moved closer to work so I wasn’t always going to him. But...if I’m not going to the schools...why would I be farther away from M? Because I feel obligated to be close to my job. Why? I want to make a good impression. I want to seem like work is all important. But is it? No. I like my boss and the pay. But I don’t like the job itself.

It’s shitty to say and def amplifies how much of a spoiled brat I am, but if for some reason it just didn’t work out, and I couldn’t find a new job up here and lost my job down there and couldn’t afford rent, my parents are still my safety net. I HATE that. But I could break my lease and move back in and start looking again.

But...I feel like that’s an extreme thought. I’d probably be able to find a job. Savings would back me up for a short time and I’d probably qualify for unemployment cause I’d never quit a job without finding a new job first. So I’d only lose mine if they let me go. I’m sure I’d manage rent or figure something out before I got evicted or something crazy.

So...I feel like my best choice is to move closer to M. I love this area because of the natural springs and trails and downtown area. The apartment is pricier but safe and really pretty and I can afford it without putting myself in a bind if there’s an emergency. For now, my job is stable and mostly remote.

I can’t tell the future. But I think There’s enough safety that if my job can’t keep me “post Covid” (if that’s ever a thing) because of the distance or if I don’t want to do that distance daily, I have time to figure out a new job.

I’m gonna put an application for This apartment.

#mental health #mental wellness #dating m

[pattonsperfectfamily-asks]

Chapter 11- Logan’s Suffering

Masterpost

TW: Torture, cutting, burning metal to skin, ropes, putting someone in a box

When Logan woke up it was dark.

And cold, so, so cold.

Something was in his mouth, preventing him from speaking. Rope burned and tugged into his skin, making it a bright angry red.

"Logan." A sing-song voice echoes through the room he was in, and a hand dances along his arm.

Logan shivers, goosebumps rising on his arms as he tried to flip himself around.

"Logan, Logan, Logan..." Patton hums, gently tugging his hair.

His grip soon turned harsh, and Logan yelps as pain shoots through his skull.

"You thought you could leave me?" Patton hisses.

A sharp pain shoots through Logan's lower back, and he screams. He could feel blood soaking into his shirt, and part of his back was now exposed to the cold air.

"You thought you could divorce me?"

Another cut. Logan screams again, his face growing hot with sweat.

"You thought you could get rid of the ring I gave you?"

Logan moans at the next cut, his eyes fluttering into the back of his head.

"Go out with...Him? Of all people! Adopt a baby?"

Logan can hear Patton moving around behind him.

"You won't be taking off this ring."

Patton grabs Logan's hand, forcing a ring onto his shaking finger.

An ear-splitting scream rings through the room. Hot, it was so hot. Logan felt like his finger was melting. It took him a few moments to realize that the screaming was coming from him.

"Ohh stop it, I already finished." Patton scolds.

Logan keens, straining at the ropes binding him. He had to see his hand, he had too!

Patton hums, a dark and creepy melody as he moves around behind Logan. "Are you too hot? Here, let me cool you down."

He finally moves to the front of Logan, kneeling down next to him. He was holding a bucket.

"Look at you." Patton laughs at Logan's shallow breathing. "So beautiful..."

Patton sets down the bucket, the small sloshing sound of water following it as he harshly grabs Logan's face and kisses him.

"I'll always forgive you." Patton smiles teasingly, "Even if you try to hurt me, it just ends up being more fun on my part."

Moving his hand to the back of Logan's neck, Patton grabs his glasses with the other hand and forces his head down into the water.

Logan sputters, accidentally breathing in some of the water as he's caught off guard. Patton's hand remains persistent as Logan struggles underneath him, trying to raise his head out of the water.

Patton finally pulls him up and Logan coughs, his lungs burning.

Patton shoves Logan back down again before he has a chance to take a breath.

This motion repeats five more times until Logan just stops trying to struggle against him.

Patton kicks the bucket away, the water spilling out onto the concrete floor.

"Puh-lease." Logan rasps, his eyes fluttering. "Puh-lease no mo-ore Pa-tton..."

Patton stares down at him for a moment.

"Alright." He finally says, grabbing Logan by the back of his collar and dragging him across the floor. "But only because I love you. Say thank you."

"Tha-nk...You..." Logan wheezes as Patton props him up against some sort of wall.

"Say I love you." Patton giggles, kissing Logan. His sweet little nerd looked so cute!

"L-Lo-ve you..." Logan whispers, his head lolling tiredly.

Patton pulls Logan up and opens the box.

"No..." Logan whines, pulling weakly away from Patton. "Puh-lease....-Lease...Pa-tton!"

"Shh." Patton gently sets him down in the box, relishing in the terrified look in Logan's eyes as it shut.

"I love you bunny."

Words: 598

Taglist

@jasondeanstwin

@kai-the-person

@the-insanelycoolmylesoliver

@no-no-no-no-6

@samuel-the-gay

@ginnyfox617

@imliterallyvirgilandlogan

@supbitchss

@bat-boye

@avocados26

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@yay-gay-ships

@the-office-cat

@fluffyspirits--butclueless

@shadowboi678

@youthquake-in-the-making

@yerkesdodsoncurve

@trisyllabic-rhymes

@shade-romeo

@itsawitchesworld

@catathyst

@that-one-braincell

@ssuperfruitxvirgil

@robynyouofsanderssidescontent

@theoddkidnextdoor

#drowning #burning #cutting #ropes #box #unsympathetic patton sanders #getting it together #torture #metal burning

[calamity-bean]

Aziraphale/Crowley Fic Recs

AKA “There is SO much Good Omens fic nowadays, with more being added at SUCH an incredible rate, that I keep forgetting to bookmark things and thus completely lose track of what I’ve read and what I liked and which ones to watch for updates and which ones I might want to read again and etc etc. So, for the sake of my own sanity, I have made A List.”

And I thought, hey, might as well share.

I’ve divided this list into WIPs and Complete Works, but otherwise, it’s a jumble: canon-verse and AUs, short and long, ranging in rating from G to E and incorporating various tropes and headcanons. I tend to gravitate toward happy endings, so there’s probably nothing too dark or soul-crushing, but as always, buyer beware, pay attention to tags and content warnings and your own personal tastes. Works are listed in chronological order of first publishing, simply as a neutral and objective way to list them, and more will be added intermittently as I read new ones or rediscover ones I forgot.

Hope this helps someone find some good reading and directs more attention to some well-deserving work!

-- WIPs --

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (June 15, 2019)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles.

Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning.

Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5.

Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water.

Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Show Me a Great Plan by WriteDreamLie (June 17, 2019)

A.J. Crowley is an eccentric "business man." A.Z. Fell is a bookseller who refuses to sell any books.

After Fell (unwillingly) helps Crowley out of a sticky situation, the two become oddly fixed on each other. And their relationship could just be the thing that saves them both.

icing on the cake by Etheostoma (June 18, 2019)

Between the black attire, swaying hips, slouching pose, and affected “devil-may-care” attitude that actually belied an incredibly sensitive nature, A.J. Crowley was a walking puzzle—and one that Aziraphale, when he allowed his thoughts free rein, wanted desperately to solve.

That being said, at the end of the day Crowley was also technically his employer, and therefore even the thought of anything more was decidedly not a Good Idea.

Vita Nova by AMidnightDreary (June 18, 2019)

“Angel, bloody hell. Hi. You doing okay? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said then, still polite, but a bit perplexed. “Who is this?”

Crowley, upon finding that Aziraphale does not remember him, is very much Not Okay with the changes Adam made after the Apocalypse That Wasn't. He can't do anything but try and make the best out of it, though. (Which is a lot easier than it should be.)

Sparse Clutter by ItsClydeBitches (June 26, 2019)

A fic bingo collection featuring twenty-five, one word prompts. Whole thing is probably best described as "Ineffable husbands stupidity with a hefty dose of gen world building," but I'll chuck brief summaries below as I update!

Strange Pilgrims: Being the Account of a lost Angel, the Journeys of a Demon, the meaning of Free Will, of the Unravelling of a Prophecy, and of Being Unravelled by it in Turn by sousverre (June 26, 2019)

"Aziraphale going missing" would be quite enough drama for Crowley to be getting on with, thanks very much - even without a prophecy that seems to be implying the significance of Feelings, and especially with every gargoyle in London trying to reunite them.

But when he does find the angel, Aziraphale has lost his memory, his wings, and insists that he is happily married to some kind of investment banker.

Right. So the first step is to fix all that, somehow, and then - and then - and then everything can go back to normal, like it was before, which is all Crowley wants.

Right.

How do we fix this?

Put Out The Fire by Aleakim (June 27, 2019)

Aziraphale finds himself in a very awkward position as some sort of spell makes everyone merely glancing in his direction instantly fall deeply and desperately in love with him.

Absolutely everyone.

Well, apart from Crowley, that is.

And while both angel and demon search for a solution to this fairly unique problem, Crowley can’t help wondering whether Aziraphale might finally figure out some things he kept hidden for so very long.

Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots by gutsandglitter (July 3, 2019)

Ninth Circle Ink was hardly more than a stone’s throw from the flower shop; Aziraphale knew from past experience that it took less than thirty seconds to go from door to door (forty-five if you had to wait for a car to pass). It had been a perfect arrangement in the beginning, when they were just starting out.

aka the flower shop/tattoo parlor (human) exes AU that nobody asked for!

You Can Have Your Cake by eragon19 (July 4, 2019)

Aziraphale has been working as Anathema's assistant at her wedding planning service for near on a year now. He thinks he's seen it all, from meddling parents to nervous brides, and in one case an ex with a penchant for arson.

What he isn't prepared for is a reluctant groom with a liking for black leather and a smile that has Aziraphale's mind going to places it most certainly shouldn't. Especially since the man is getting married, no matter how awful his fiance is...

To the Stars by StarRose (July 9, 2019)

The happy ending Titanic!Au no one ever writes but everyone always imagines in every possible fandom. Aziraphale is being forcibly sent to America to be forcibly married to Gabriel. Crowley is going to forcibly screw that up.

A Matter of Convenience by ylc (July 15, 2019)

There comes a time when even the most fervent enemies must call a truce and what better way to cement such truce than a marriage? And if the involved parties happen to be the most troublesome members of the ruling families… well, that’s all for the best, isn’t it?

Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter (July 16, 2019)

Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack.

Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Series of one-shots focusing on the lives and developing relationship between Ezra Fell and Anthony J. & Adam Crowley. Human AU.

Lavender, Chamomile, and a Rather Permanent Arrangement by southdownsraph (July 17, 2019)

Crowley owns the flower shop across the street from A. Z. Fell's tattoo shop, and can't help but be intrigued by the slightly eccentric, yet incredibly friendly tattoo artist. When Crowley does finally pluck up the courage to talk to him beyond the occasional pleasantries, he kicks off the beginning of a friendship that could so easily drift into something else entirely.

Pride and Prejudice and Angels by SanSanFanFan (July 20, 2019)

Hampshire, England, 1809

Miss Crowley's plans for a small temptation near the South Coast go awry as she realises that Aziraphale is not only a guest of a neighbouring landed gentlelady but also suffering under some kind of malady.

Match-making! Balls! Fainting! Happily Ever Afters???

Celestial Bodies by LieutenantLiv (August 3, 2019)

The year is 1923. Aziraphale's friends at the gentlemen's club invite him for a weekend away in Devon. He asks Crowley to join. It gets very silly and very messy very quickly.

That's just how things were in the roaring twenties.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm (August 9, 2019)

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

--His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses.

What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

-- Complete Works --

Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW (July 7, 2014)

Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 (January 8, 2018)

When horticulturist A. J. Crowley sees a rare breed of rose in a churchyard, he decides he won't stop until he can get a cutting—even if he has to go through the church's stuffy priest to do so.

Running in the Shadows (Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies) by soft_october (May 10, 2019)

"In plain terms, Mr. A. Fell was a man of impeccable conduct and unusual habits, and in a similar manner to many of whom bore the first two traits, he must also take up the third: dire loneliness. Yet it had not always been thus. Indeed, there once was a time when it seemed as if he should never know solitude or want of suitable company for the rest of his days, but the circumstances by which Aziraphale might have unwound the knot that now bound up his heart had long since dragged themselves, mortally wounded, to die in the shades of regret. Their ghosts hung in his past, growing in consequence with the singular passing of each year until they eclipsed even the death of those who had the foremost hand in their making, and had the effect of separating the sequence of his days of into a gentle, blooming Before, whose painful beauty made the egregious scars of the After that much more appalling."

What Aziraphale does not know is that, from across the ocean, Mr. Anthony J. Crowley is returning to England with his newly aquired wealth, wanting nothing more than to rebuild his life after a terrible shock and, perhaps, discover why he had been abandoned by his fiancé ten long years ago.

You Might Think I’m Crazy (All I Want is You) by soft_october (March 29, 2019)

'“Look I understand, you’ve got to check up on the new occupants, make sure I’m a proper ‘fit’ for the neighborhood or whatever euphemism you’re going to use this time, 'the greater good,' I saw the film, I get it. But I peeked in at the place next door the agent mentioned and if you aren’t bothering him I really don't think you should be-”

“I’m your neighbor,” Aziraphale interrupted. “I own that place next door?”

“Oh.”'

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone (June 6, 2019)

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

creatures of circumstance by attheborder (June 10, 2019)

Anthony J. Crowley, Jr. is the prodigal son of CrowleyCorp, the UK’s most powerful, dangerous, and controversial technology company.  

A one-night stand with a mysterious man who calls himself Aziraphale tips his hopeless life upside-down into a dangerous obsession.

And somewhere else entirely, a girl-shaped creature is presiding over the back room of a bookshop in Soho, where an angel and a demon lay unconscious on the floor…

Bending Space and Time by Draco_sollicitus (June 11, 2019)

Crowley could never have envisioned a miracle quite like making an angel smile.

And when that angel is Aziraphale, well, he'll do whatever he can to experience that miracle again, and again, and again.

(Crowley spends the twentieth century bringing books to Aziraphale in an effort to make his angel smile a little more)

the words of the prophet are written on the subway walls by volantium (June 11, 2019)

Aziraphale and Crowley do the twenty-first century. (Or, Aziraphale and Crowley, dorks in love, post-Apocalypse).

a picnic plan for you and me by theapplepielifestyle (June 12, 2019)

“It’s angel food cake,” he said. He waited. When Aziraphale did nothing but nod politely: “It’s funny, see, ‘cause-”

“No, no, I get it.” Aziraphale nodded again. “Very funny.”

“Oh, shut up, it is-”

“May I ask what brought this on?”

Crowley paused. “Can’t a guy just want to try baking?”

(Or, Crowley makes Aziraphale food after the world doesn't end. It has absolutely nothing to do with how much he wants to make Aziraphale smile.)

with urgency but not with haste by Sanwall (June 13, 2019)

Aziraphale moves to the South Downs and gets bees, and Crowley gets into one of his moods.

The Play’s The Thing by volunteerfd (June 16, 2019)

“Who was at the very first rehearsal, hmm? Who read over Shakespeare’s shoulder as he put ink to parchment? If anything, I know Hamlet just as intimately as I know you.” Aziraphale picked up his teacup again and looked at Crowley over the rim of it. “Maybe even more.”

Crowley was tempted to ask if he’d fucked Hamlet.

****

Aziraphale is cast as the lead in a community theatre production of Hamlet, a lifelong dream of his and a lifelong night terror of Crowley's. But, as the hapless Crowley helps him run lines, it becomes a mystery why anyone would let Aziraphale on stage. Tears are shed, skulls are crushed, monologues are butchered, and through it all, Crowley remains supportive. After all, the show must go on--even if it is the fifty billionth production of stupid, overrated Hamlet.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by 13thDoctor, JHarkness (June 17, 2019)

5 times Aziraphale and Crowley were mistaken for a couple, and the 1 time they weren’t.

A Regular Rip van Winkle by aurilly (June 20, 2019)

After almost an entire century spent asleep, Crowley wakes in 1888 to find the world more changed than he thought possible. His first order of business is to find his angel.

Also concerning the origin of the Baroque gavotte (spoilers: Aziraphale was feeling thirsty).

A bookshop is not a business by anactoriatalksback (June 22, 2019)

In which Aziraphale has no intention of selling books to anyone at all, let alone this infuriatingly persistent customer. No matter how nice his cheekbones are...

like a prayer for which no words exist by lipsstainedbloodred (June 23, 2019)

“What do you want, angel?” Crowley asks before Aziraphale is even properly in the room.

“Hullo my dear,” Aziraphale sounds cheery but also awfully worried, “I hadn’t seen you since - well, since-” Since they’d swapped bodies back; since Crowley had turned tail and ran from St. James’s Park like the Devil himself had been on his heels.

(in which Crowley and Aziraphale do not dine at the Ritz after that nasty business with Heaven and Hell, and Crowley has an existential crisis instead)

far too much in love to see by imperiousheiress (June 25, 2019)

“Hello, can I help you with anything in particular?” Aziraphale asks. And then, he freezes.

Inexplicably, impossibly, it’s the same man who had entered the shop the last time they’d been open. He’s sure of it. The man who he’d felt a rather insistent urge to garrote.

(Or, one of Aziraphale’s regular customers takes a little too much interest in Crowley, and Aziraphale feels somewhat unfamiliarly unpleasant about all of it.)

The Holiest by merle_p (June 26, 2019)

So when Aziraphale hears, through the grapevine, that an exorcism is supposed to happen on New Year’s Eve in Major Gruber’s flat, he knows that despite his general distaste for exorcisms, this is where he is going to be, on the slim chance that the demon Major Gruber and his spiritist friends have found is the same one Aziraphale appears to have lost.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers by Gefionne (June 26, 2019)

Because they can’t see each other more than once every few decades, Aziraphale suggests that he and Crowley write to each other to pass the time apart. As quills for their letters, they exchange wing feathers: a gesture of great intimacy that Crowley is convinced only he perceives the depth of. But time will tell that it’s not just him who sees it that way.

Night and Day by Gigi_Sinclair (June 27, 2019)

Five times Aziraphale and Crowley encountered queer historical figures who know more about them than they do, and one time they actually have a clue.

Needed a break, gone to France x by sleepymccoy (June 28, 2019)

A week or so after the nopocalypse Aziraphale takes a holiday that, unfortunately, sends Crowley into a bit of a tailspin about where they're at

In Holy Matrimony by Myracuulous (June 29, 2019)

From the private journal of Alisha Jones, wedding planner, concerning the nuptials of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale and the planning process thereof, containing an account of chosen decor, guest list construction, and the holy war against the Antichrist that nearly ruined six months of professional organization and a very nice dinner.

Acts of Service by seekwill (July 2, 2019)

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

greatest hits by attheborder (July 2, 2019)

“But my dear, I just can’t believe you never told me that you had joined a musical group. I would have come out to support you— at your gigs!”

“First of all, never say ‘gigs’ again. Second of all, not my fault you never noticed when I showed up to dinner with a great big guitar case slung over my shoulder.”

(Aziraphale accidentally discovers Crowley’s secret: he was in a band in the 90s. And he wrote a whole album of love songs…)

Nanny Knows Best by DictionaryWrites (July 5, 2019)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie.

Crowley wished that were true.

human childcare for the occult (and ethereal) by suzukiblu (July 10, 2019)

The Dowlings miraculously need a nanny and a gardener at the same time, and Aziraphale suggests they flip for it. Crowley takes one moment to picture Aziraphale nannying anyone and calls dibs. It’s not that Aziraphale’s terrible with humans, he’s just, well. Terrible with humans. Truly, truly terrible.

He doesn’t want to deal with Aziraphale getting metaphorically guillotined or kicking up security’s paranoia, basically. A gardener can be a little odd, and no one will notice or care. Except Warlock, perhaps, as the only other person with any real reason to spend much time out on the lawn, but Warlock’s the one they want noticing so that’ll be fine, Crowley’s sure.

Even if it does make him cringe a little, leaving Aziraphale in charge of the plants.

keep me close by Iselmyr (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale was expecting to see a talented but otherwise ordinary performance of Les Misérables with a genderswapped cast. Aziraphale was not expecting who came onstage.

Crowley was expecting an ordinary second night show, because Aziraphale always goes to opening nights, and Crowley never performs on them.

Except, this once, Aziraphale missed the opening, and came to the second night. Everything else snowballed from there.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

Reflect What You Are by Owenjones (July 17, 2019)

It's a year after the almost-apocalypse. Aziraphale makes Crowley go see a therapist.

“Have you been having any issues in particular?”

“Issues? Such as?”

“You tell me.” She could tell he had something on the tip of his tongue.

Crowley sat for a second, then blurted out, “He thinks I’ve been sleeping too much. He’s worried.”

An Answer to Prayer by Jupiter_Ash (July 20, 2019)

Prayers can be answered in a multitude of different ways. When it came to a certain cottage in the South Downs though, no one had expected it to be answered by the squealing wheels of a classic Bentley and Queen's Princes of the Universe.

All Karen wanted to do was sell a house.

The Ineffable Temptations of Oysters by gimpy_terry (July 20, 2019)

Wherein Aziraphale sometimes invites Crowley to dine on oysters with him and Crowley definitely takes him up on that offer.

did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw (July 21, 2019)

or were you quiet and afraid? — Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

A Machine for Living In by pineapplesquid (August 6, 2019)

All Crowley wants is to see the inside of the bookshop so that he can get this design for the building next door done so the clients will be happy and his bosses will stop yelling. What A.Z. Fell wants, apparently, is for Crowley and the project that’s he’s working on to disappear. Permanently.

One of these might be more attainable than the other.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #fic recs #op #also PLEASE let me know if any of the titles link to the wrong fics #i was doing a lot of rapid copying & pasting #and also if you have any others to rec... feel free to add or let me know!

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 4.3k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: swearing and taxi passengers slut shaming and being general assholes.

It’s too hard to stay awake.   It’s...too—…...difficult…..   “Y/N?” You’re shaken awake by someone’s hand coming to gently squeeze your shoulder. Immediately, you jolt back to life, looking around to find yourself in the office. Right. “Are you alright?”   Sunyi comes back into focus and you realize Hyuk and Lisa are already looking at you, watching your face as if you have a spider on your forehead and they don’t want to scare it away. “What? Oh, sorry. I was...um...distracted for a second there. What did you say?”   You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, but the lawyer doesn’t push it either. “A bunch of us are going to dinner tonight. We were wondering if you wanted to join us?”   “Dinner?” This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. It’s what you’ve always wanted. To finally be a part of the group, catch late night drinks or eat food, to actually befriend these people beyond the workplace setting. “I would love to….but...tonight?”   Of all nights. Why tonight?   “You can’t make it?”   “I...already have plans.” It hurts so bad — it’s like you’re a kid who’s been waiting for your birthday for months and on the day of, it turns out you can’t even attend your own party because of a dentist appointment.   “Aw.” Hyuk hangs his head and pouts, eyes flickering down the expanse of your body quicker than you can even register. “What a shame, thought I’d be able to finally get to know you.”   “I’m sorry. I should’ve known.”   Maybe it looks like you’re about to burst into tears, because then Sunyi smiles softly. “No, it’s okay. How could you have known? There’ll be plenty of other times. How about lunch tomorrow?”   “Lunch?” There’s a tone of hope and eagerness in your voice and you know you’re being pretty childish and pathetic, but you’re too exhausted to put on a more professional façade. “That works for me. I’ll clear up my schedule.”   “Alright.” Sunyi grins. “Tomorrow, a bunch of us can gather up for lunch.”   You smile, nodding your head. “Sounds good.”   A handful of people from the office begin to file out at five o’clock. You bid them a goodbye and goodnight. But someone else lingers behind and she seems to hesitate. “Hey, Y/N.” Lisa stands to the side and you wonder if anything’s wrong — ironic considering her next question is addressed to you. “Are you okay?”   “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her with your lips upturned.   The receptionist nods. “Okay. Goodnight then.”   “Bye.” You watch as she catches up with the group, slightly touched that she shows concern for your well-being. Though, the question lingers in your head — ARE you okay? If you’re completely frank with yourself, you’re not sure.   On the way home, you accidentally fall asleep on the subway. Your head bobs up and down and ends up on the shoulder of a granny and you apologize profusely, nearly hurting your neck when you try to use your own shoulder as support. Then once you make it home, you fall on the couch to take a two hour nap. A symphony of blaring alarms is what you wake up to. After, you force yourself to get up, you wash your face, eat something quick, have a cup of coffee…   Then….   “Hello!” You twist around to face the backseat with a bright smile. “Where are you off to tonight?”   “The Kelpers Club on seventh avenue,” one of the three guys say and you nod, pulling off the curb and into the road.   “Oh, fuck!” The dude from the left seat startles you, but when you glance at the rear-view mirror, thankfully he’s not talking to you. He’s staring at the screen of his phone and his friends are glancing over. “Look what Tiffany just sent me.”   “Holy shit!” They reach over to punch the guy in the arm, laughing and grinning. They’re a rowdy and obnoxious bunch, but you try your best to keep focus on the road ahead of you. “Dude, you need to send me that. I could probably rub three or four out with that hot pic.”   They each have a water bottle with them, taking sips every so often and by the smell of their breaths that waft over to ruin your breathing space, you’re almost certain that it isn’t water they have in there. “Did you really tap that last night?”   “Yeah.” He smirks. “She keeps on texting me though. It’s so fucking annoying. Clingy bitch. It’s no wonder her boyfriend of four years cheated on her with her best friend. And she thinks we’re an exclusive item just cause I took her out once. What a joke. She’s desperate and a mess.”   Your left eye twitches and you run the yellow light that you normally would’ve slowed down at. The dude in the center laughs. “But c’mon, how is she? How does she take it?”   The other lets out a snort and rolls his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. She’s a freak. She wanted me to slap and spank her. The skank choked on me like five times and even took it in the ass.”   “Holy shit!” They’re in an uproar, piercing sound of their chortles deafening to your ears. They punch him again, saying things like he’s a lucky bastard and what they would give to be in that position. But what’s the absolutely last straw for you is— “You could probably get it in if you want. I bet she’d like taking two or three cocks at once too. Tiffany is a massive slut.”   They roar and howl like animals in heat and one of them opens their mouth to add a comment, but you floor the gas on an empty street and their bodies lurch forward. “Do you want me to change the radio?” you interrupt before anything else can be said and before your blood pressure spikes more than it has.   “No. It’s fine.” They catch themselves when you stop at a red light.   “Do you want me to turn on the heating or air conditioning?”   “We’re fine,” one of them grunts out in annoyance. You ignore him and slam off the air conditioning, rolling all the windows up to seal shut and hitting the heating button. It begins to blast, though you don’t mind if you get too warm. It’s much too rewarding to look at the rear-view mirror and see all three guys squished up against each other, extremely hot and uncomfortable, hair becoming wet with sweat. You hope their vodka gets too warm and stale to drink.   “I’m having trouble finding the destination,” you lie without blinking twice. You loop around and around the blocks, purposely driving over the manholes at full speed and enjoying how the car launches slightly at every bump and they hit their heads on the roof of the small vehicle.   “It’s the left!”   “Left or right?” You feign innocence and stupidity as if you don’t understand basic directions. “Which one?!”   “Left!” He shouts.   You twist your wrist roughly, swerving the steering wheel to the right. “Oops!”   “What the hell?!” They’re in disbelief and you kill fifteen minutes, going all over the blocks and taking wrong turns, somehow even ending in the suburban area. When you’re satisfied with messing with them, you pull up on the curb...in the middle of nowhere.   “Whelp, we’re here.” You turn around with a blazing smile and their jaws are dropped, brows furrowed, finding the situation completely absurd. “It’s just down the block.” More like down thirty blocks. “The traffic is too much to get close. Sorry ‘bout that.”   “There’s no traffic,” one of them says, but you ignore them and they pull out their wallets to split the fare. They get out one by one with deep scowls, slamming the car doors shut, hard enough to damage your precious taxi. Before closing the last door, one of them pops their head through and mutters something you hear loud and clear, “dumb bitch.”   You end up driving directly into a mud puddle, splashing them in the brown slush and making it look like they collectively shat in their pants. You cackle as you pull off into the street again.   They didn’t even tip you.   “Hello. Where are you off to tonight?”   “The airport, please.”   “Certainly.”   It’s not like you’re passionate about taxi driving. You specifically sought out the HR position to leave this behind, to actually chase after what you want. But here you are, crawling back to your old career and balancing between your day and night job.   Even though Hoseok declared a truce between the two of you, you still can’t get rid of the feeling that he might fire you one day. You wouldn’t know what to do if one day you’re seated on the other side of the conference table with Jimin and Hoseok across from you, delivering the news that you’re not needed anymore. You wouldn’t know what to do if you’re thrown off on the street without a job. You wouldn’t be able to pay your bills. You wouldn’t be able to pay for food.   More importantly, you would have to move back with your mom.   The nightmare haunts you.   And you still have the lease on the cab. It’s been sitting in your apartment parking spot — might as well use it, right? At the end of the night, you get another wad of cash that goes directly into your savings. Doing this is better than sitting at home and worrying about your future, mindlessly watching television and surfing the internet, walking around, and….sleeping.   A little bit of sleep sacrificed isn’t a big deal.   Your eight-hours of sleep is merely split up throughout the day — naps taken on the subway to and from the firm, a two hour slumber before taking the taxi night-shift, another four hours afterwards before heading to the office. Occasionally, you might doze off in your office too, but no one really notices when you turn your chair towards the window and it seems like you’re staring out at the cityline.   Thankfully, Hoseok hasn’t noticed either.   “Excuse me?” The girl in the backseat stirs awake from her drowsiness, looking out the window. “I think we’re here.”   “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about someone—......I mean something. I was thinking about something.” You scramble with a laugh, parking the car and getting out to help with the passenger’s luggage in the trunk. She doesn’t seem that upset with you, even smiling and thanking you for the ride, tipping you a decent five dollars.   Things aren’t too bad.   “Aren’t you driving too slow?” A middle age woman impatiently quacks in the backseat of your car, pushing herself up closer to you. “Can’t you go faster?”   “Uh...I’ll try my best.”   Really, things aren’t too horrible.   ….   It could be worse.   //   The only thing you’re looking forward to is lunch. When you wake up in the morning, you’re already buzzing with excitement. As pathetic as it is, you can’t remember the last time you shared a meal with other people. If things go well, then people in the office will really begin to get comfortable with you and maybe you’ll have a few workplace friends that will become your friends out of work too. You’re excited, and you hope it doesn’t show too much.   “Hey, ready for lunch today?” Sunyi has popped into your office first thing in the morning with a smile. “You didn’t forget, did you?”   “Of course I didn’t,” you laugh.   “Good. We’re going down the block to that italian restaurant. They have a really good lunch menu, cheesesteak and sandwiches and soups too.”   “That sounds great,” your cheeks are almost bursting with your smile. “Who’s coming along with us?”   “You and I obviously,” she jests in a light tone. “And also Seulgi, Namjoon, Hoseok and unfortunately, the leech freeloader Min Yoongi. Trust me, I didn’t want him to join, but he self invited himself like the asshole that he is. He invited himself and Hoseok. I knew I shouldn’t have talked about it with Seulgi when we were all in the elevator earlier...”   You stifle back a laugh. “That’s completely fine.”   “Alright, see you later then.” The woman sighs and checks her phone briefly. “Gotta get some work done before we run on out.”   Your head nods once and she’s on her way.   //   For the first hour, you focus on running through more applications and looking for a suitable paralegal. There still hasn’t been anyone hired to fill Sebin’s position, but there’s not too big of a rush. Hoseok would rather you take your time to go through and choose carefully, rather than picking someone right off the bat. Plus, he’s also told you that things are actually running fairly well with the three paralegals already on the team, smoother than he expected.   You make a few phone calls, setting up interview dates and times. But then someone stops by your office. “Hey,” Namjoon greets you and before you can ask if he needs any help, he beats you to the punch. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m helping Jimin with mediation. The client re-booked it at twelve thirty, so I don’t think I can go later.”   “No, it’s okay. Work takes priority anyways,” you wave him off and he smiles, promising he’ll make time some other day for lunch. Not another twenty minutes pass by before you find yet another person standing at your doorway, balancing a huge mountain of files. “Are you alright?”   “I don’t know,” Seulgi admits in all honesty and looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “I just remembered I forgot to submit the affidavits and orders yesterday that were given to me by Jungkook and I think Hoseok’s going to fire the both of us if it’s not in submission. I’m helping him and we both have to run down there and I don’t know how long it’s going to take or if it’s even possible at this point—”   “Seulgi,” you call her name calmly to reassure the girl. “It’s okay.”   “I’m so, so sorry. Can I ask for a rain check?”   “Of course you can. I’m always free.”   By eleven o’clock, a full hour before the designated time, there’s another person at your door. This time, it’s a shorter man with full cheeks and messy black hair. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, barely able to keep them open. But when he looks at you and you look at him, it’s like a telepathic message is sent. “Can’t make it?”   “Yeah,” Min Yoongi responds in a husky tone as if he just got up from a nap, but plans to take another.   “It’s okay.”   But is it? — Really. — Is this okay?   There’s nothing you can really do even if all your insides are crying. What? Should you just drop to the ground and start crying? You’re going to need at least five shots before you throw a temper tantrum at your workplace. Things get busy, life gets busy, people get busy. You’re more than understanding and it’s just lunch. There will be plenty more opportunities to come. So…   “It’s fine,” you reassure the lawyer in front of you who has her bottom lip quivering and her brows furrowed deep enough you’re certain that wrinkles will permanently mar her skin.   “I’m so, so sorry. I know you were looking forward to this. I just had no idea that my schedule was already booked up with a client. I….I could change it and we can still go out—”   “Don’t be ridiculous.” You laugh, thankful that she’s worried this much over it. At least it’s better than the times in High School where people invited you out and didn’t even show up because ‘it’s just a prank, bro’. Your hand goes to gently squeeze Sunyi’s shoulder, channeling your maternal voice that doesn’t really exist to soothe her. “We can do this some other day. I’m gonna be around for a long time, so there will be plenty more opportunities. Just focus on work since that’s what you’re here to do anyways. It’s really not that big of a deal.”   “Okay, thank you,” Sunyi breathes a long sigh of relief, happy that you didn’t take the unfortunate circumstances to heart. Little does she know just how disappointed you are.   Reminds you of that time your mom promised you to go to Disneyland and you ended up Chuck E. Cheese instead.   //   At twelve o’clock sharp, Hoseok appears at your door with his phone in hand. You stare at him, waiting for him to say something as he stares at the screen and his thumbs move, probably texting someone important. It’s an awkward thirty seconds that feel like a whole two minutes before he puts down the device and looks at you. He frowns and takes a peek out your door.   “Is there no one else?”   “No.” You scratch the back of your neck before putting your palms in your lap. “Everyone is busy.” It’s only you and him. You’re not sure how you feel about that; maybe partly tense and apprehensive while the other part doesn’t mind so much.   “Okay.” Hoseok shrugs nonchalantly, hands in his coat pockets. “There’s no point in going then.”   “Oh...yeah…” You stand up awkwardly, trying to shuffle past him. Your stomach makes a noise that doesn’t sound too healthy and you hope he can’t hear it. “I’ll uh...I’ll just grab something from the kitchen then.”   “Wait.” He stops you, grabbing your wrist before you can run off. When he realizes he’s touched you without permission, he lets go right away, mumbling some kind of apology before you tell him it’s fine.   “You didn’t bring anything with you?” He asks and you don’t answer. Jung Hoseok must read your expression like an open book because then he smiles slightly. “Okay, nevermind, let’s go.”   “Pardon?”   “Just the two of us,” he says and walks off, making you stumble behind him and try to match his wide, fast strides. The lawyer glances over his shoulder towards you. “You don’t mind right?”   “I...I don’t mind.” Except a one-on-one lunch with your boss is not what you envisioned.   Instead of the fancy italian cafe, you follow his lead into a hole-in-the-wall. It’s a warm and cozy atmosphere, with two or three other tables full. Interestingly enough, they serve comfort food and the menu is deprived of a variety of different cultures. You end making an order of porridge with a side of mac and cheese and he orders curry with cold noodles.   It’s served quickly and all at the same time, so you don’t hesitate to dig in.   The only problem is when silence settles down, you’re not sure what to say. You’re not even sure where to look. Glancing up and locking your eyes with his only makes it more excruciatingly awkward.   “You know, I already told you that you don’t have to tiptoe around me,” Hoseok mutters and takes a large bite, looking up at you with his arm propped up on the table, holding a spoon and completely amused as he gawks at you.   “What?”   “You’re always stiff and nervous around me. But I won’t bite your head off…….probably.”   “I’m not nervous,” you defend yourself even when it’s a massive lie.   Hoseok laughs and almost chokes on his food. “Yeah, you are. Your eyes keep shifting and I can see that you’re beginning to sweat. You know…” He leans closer like he’s about to exchange a secret. “...makes it seem like you did something wrong or you’re a criminal. Last I checked, I’m not a criminal attorney, so I’m not sure I can help you if you did something illegal.”   You take a spoonful of the porridge, letting the taste linger on your tongue for a second before you stuff your cheek to chew a bit and swallow it down. “The only illegal thing I’ve one is steal someone’s wifi and probably jaywalking.”   “Wait, I should record this confession for evidence,” he teases with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a massive grin. You wonder if the other people at this office know this side of him. “These are very serious crimes. How many times have you jaywalked and who’s wifi have you stolen?”   “Oh please.” You roll your eyes. “You act like you haven’t done anything ‘illegal’ either.”   He scoffs at how you use air quotations with your fingers, also slightly offended. “Just letting you know, I live a very morally upright life. I don’t break the law. I work for the law. In fact, I am the law.”   “Yeah, right.” You click your tongue in feigned annoyance, muffling back some laughter. “What about that time you were drunk and passed out in front of the library? Made me have to drag you back. That’s public intoxication.”   “I did what?”   Your eyes go wide. Right. He doesn’t remember. You might’ve gotten too carried away, too caught up when he’s sitting right across from you, and it’s only you and him. But there’s no going back now, you might as well mess with him. “Or that time you shoplifted an entire refrigerator. And that time you started a pimp business to pay off your loans. Those were the days, right, Hoseok?”   “No way.” He leans back and crosses his arms, trying to repress his laughter that threatens to spill over. “I would never. That’s something I can’t believe. You need to come up with more reasonable lies than that, Y/N.”   Your food is left abandoned when you’re trying hard not to break into hysterical laughter. “So you believe how you wanted to piss in a library book, but ended up passing out in front of the library instead?”   There’s a long held silence. “That…..I can believe.”   A cheeky grin is plastered on your face, making your jaw ache a bit and you take a few more bites before your pupils flicker up. “Thanks, by the way. Just thought I’d say that.”   “For what?” He eats, chewing and swallowing, taking a sip of his water in the process.   “This. I mean...you didn’t have to come along with me.”   “You make it sound like I’m going to treat you to this.” The lawyer points a fork towards you and narrows his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitches oh so slightly. “Is that your tactic? You think I’m going to pay for your meal?”   “No!” You can’t help your giggles. “That’s not what I’m trying to say!”   “I can see right through you.” He has a playful smile and eyes you. The glare is less sharp and pointed, lacking real animosity or frustration. It’s much cuter and the stark contrast from him outside and joking around to his professionalism in the office nearly gives you whiplash.   “I saw your photo on the firm’s website.” It’s a little out of nowhere, but the thought pops into your head as you stare at the man. “And no offence, but you look way better in real life. You’re not photogenic at all.”   “Is that an insult?” Jung Hoseok gasps theatrically and you wonder why he didn’t just major in drama and become a comedic actor. He seems to have a knack for it.   “It’s not!”   “Or are you trying to say I’m handsome?” He puts down his utensil and nods. “Oh, I see. You don’t want me to pay for your meal. Thinking big picture, huh? You’re trying to say I’m a lot more handsome in real life because you want a raise, don’t you?!”   “I never said that!” At this point, the two of you are so loud that a few patrons are looking over, but none of you notice. He twists your words so much, it’s ridiculous and you’re left baffled and laughing. Maybe it was right for him to be a lawyer after all.   “You think I wouldn’t see your strategy.” He scrapes his bowl, eating everything that’s left while mischievously shaking his head in feigned disapproval. “Trying to boost my ego for a raise. How low is that. But what’s even more unbelievable is that it’s working. Keep going.”   You laugh again, this time refusing to utter even one syllable or make a sound. Hoseok finishes eating in the meanwhile and you pierce the carrots on your plate, putting it on his clean one. He looks up at you with brows raised. “You hate carrots? I never thought you’d be a picky eater.”   “No, I don’t hate it,” you muse. “You like it, don’t you?”   If it’s possible, his brows raise even higher. “How did you know?”   You shrug, looking away from him. “Let’s just say, I really want that raise.”   “Pft.” He pierces the carrot with the fork, inhaling it all at once and chews thoughtfully. “You better not be stalking me.”   “I won’t need to if I get a little somethin’-somethin’.” You rub your fingers on one hand together, indicating a thick wad of cash and he grins, eating the carrot happily.   A few months ago, if someone told you that one day you’d be sitting across from Hoseok and actually conversing and even laughing like normal adults, you would’ve probably floored the gas pedal of your taxi to get away in fear of that person being absolutely insane.   You expected to have lunch with coworkers and perhaps establish friendships out of the workplace. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up rekindling some kind of ancient relationship with your boss. But you don’t mind at all. It’s just more than what you bargained for in the best way possible.

#bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfiction #hoseok #BTS JUNG HOSEOK is not 100% an asshole?! *insert surprised pikachu meme* #OC as a full-time HR manager and part-time taxi driver WHO JUST WANTS TO HAVE LUNCH WITH HER FELLOW CO-WORKERS BECAUSE SHE LIKES THEM #BUT GODDAMMIT IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!

[timelock97]

Time Never Stops

Chapter Twelve: Remember When

Word Count: 3454

Prologue   Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3   Ch 4   Ch 5 Ch 6   Ch 7   Ch 8   Ch 9   Ch 10   Ch 11

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting / FLUFF

(Y/F/B): Your favorite breakfast

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I let out a soft groan as I drop my duffel bag and finally sit down at the kitchen table in the Holland's family home. It's six in the evening, and I am utterly exhausted. After PAX had ended, I flew out to L.A. for two weeks to record videos with Mark and crew before flying home to my apartment. Tom went back to filming another movie in Atlanta. I spent the two weeks I had at home packing and pre-recording videos so I had enough on file to post for about three weeks, while Tom and I looked and settled into our new home. The worst of everything from the last few weeks was that my landlord argued with me when I wouldn't sign for another lease, even though I told him that I was moving out of the country. At one point I just walked out of his office, leaving my notice on his desk the following morning because I was done with his bullshit.

When I got finally got to London, I had planned to stay at Tom and Harrison's flat. However, since the both of them were gone filming, I decided to stay with my future parents-in-laws. Staying with Tom's parents had its perks, it meant I could relax, look up apartments for Tom and I to move into, edit what was left of the videos, and get all my medical stuff re-situated.

Tessa barking at the opening of the front door catches my attention, my head lifting from its place on top of my arms. "Mum, is (Y/N) here yet?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" I tease, turning in my chair to see Paddy run down the hall, Tess on his heels, and skid to a stop in front of me.

He throws down his backpack, heavy with textbooks, before hugging me. "When did you get in?" He asks, pulling away to reveal a large smile on his face.

"Like, ten minutes ago I think. Mum?"

"Yeah, we got in about that time. Be careful, love, her flight was not pleasant for her and the little one." Nikki responds, working on dinner at the stove.

Paddy smiles, looking at me nervously, motioning to my stomach. "Can I um..."

I nod, "There's only a little bump, but they are in there." I state as he crouches down in front of me and places a hand on my stomach, smiling at the little bump. The sound of a camera going off tears my attention from the youngest Holland up toward the sound. I smile at Nikki who has her camera in hand, capturing the moment to memory.

"When will you know if they are a boy or a girl?" Paddy asks, moving to sit in the chair beside me, pulling homework from his backpack.

"Not long now, once Tom is home in a few weeks we will go to the appointment," I hum, propping my head on my hand.

"Do you know if you two are going to find out what the gender is or are you going to wait?" Paddy continues, making me smile.

"Pads, why are you bombarding (Y/N) with all these questions?" Dom asks, walking over and kissing the top of my head before greeting his wife with a kiss on the lips.

"Because Tom won't tell me anything and I'm nosy." Pad says, making me chuckle.

"To answer your question, Pads, I think we wanted to do a gender reveal, but we don't know when exactly we will do it. I am hoping that we can do it while Izzy is in town so she doesn't have to plan another flight. Right now, I just want to worry about finding a flat."

"Why a flat?" Paddy asks, looking up from his notebook.

"Well, we want to have everything set up before the baby gets here, so while Tom is on set, it's my job to look for an apartment-"

Paddy looks at me in confusion, "I thought Tom already-"

"Paddy," Nikki cuts in, "Why don't you call Sam and Harry and see if they are coming over for dinner or if they are going to their flat from their latest job?" Paddy gives her a sheepish grin before packing his homework and leaned across to kiss my cheek before leaving the room, grabbing my duffel bag on the way out.

"I am just going to assume I shouldn't ask," I giggle, running my hand through my hair, detangling the strands. I jump, accidentally yanking my hair, when something loudly land on the table.

"Sorry, darling, made you a cup of ginger tea, Tom said that you had been drinking it for your morning sickness." Dom chuckles, sliding the mug closer.

"Thanks, Dom," I smile taking it in my hand before sighing, whining. "I shouldn't be this tired."

"You had a long day, it's to be expected. Being pregnant is tiring," Nikki smiles.

I nod, feeling my phone buzz in my hoodie pocket. I dig it out and see that I had missed a call from Tom. "Tom called me, I'm going to go sit outside and call him back, that okay?"

"Of course, love, I'll come get you when supper's ready." Nikki responds, smiling at me as I shuffle over to the door, slipping outside with Tessa.

I redial his number, bringing my phone to my ear as I sit down on a patio chair.

"Hello, love," Tom coos.

"Hey," I rub my eyes sleepily, "sorry I missed your call, I was in your- well, your parents' kitchen talking to them and Paddy."

"S'okay, just wanted to make sure you made it home alright."

"Yeah, I did." I sigh, rubbing my eyes.

There is a pause on the other end of the phone, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, little love made me sick the whole flight. Didn't help we had rough air."

"Well, don't stress yourself out, okay? And if you feel like you need to get some sleep, my parents are not  going to judge you."

"I know, just wish I felt better. Honestly, I wish you were here. I love your family, don't get me wrong, I just-" I cut myself off, my emotions getting the better of me.

"Hey, only a week, then I will be home." His voice comes through the speaker comfortingly.

"A week, I thought it was a month?" I ask in disbelief, Tess placing herself between my legs and laying her head on my lap.

"Nope, just a week," he states, I can hear the smile on his face. "It was a miscommunication. I have to go back in November, but only for two weeks to finish filming."

"Well, I am excited to see you."

"Me too, love. Oh, do me a favor? Don't bother looking up flats."

"I thought you wanted me to look-"

"I don't want you to stress out about it, besides I actually have a surprise for you when I get back, if Paddy doesn't spoil it beforehand."

"Oh," I come to the realization, "Paddy almost did, but Mum stopped him." I giggle, making Tom sigh.

"Well at least she is looking out for me, but you will have to wait a little longer, love."

"That's okay, I can wait." I turn to the door opening seeing Sam. "Hold up, love," I pull the phone away from my face "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Mum has supper ready."

"Okay, thanks." I smile at Sam as he slips back inside before placing my phone back to my ear, "Tom I gotta go, Mum has food ready."

"That's okay, I have to get back to set. I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, see you soon, Tommy." I hang up after a minute, running my hand over Tessa's head before standing. Only a week til he's home, it'll be fine.

I lay my head on my arm as I lean against the bathtub in the upstairs bathroom. It is two forty-seven in the morning, and I have never been sicker. "Fuck morning sickness, its every fucking hour sickness," I grumble as I move to grab my water bottle from the floor. I groan at the realization that it was empty.

"(Y/N), are you in here?" Nikki's voice comes from behind the door, before I can answer, my stomach lurches again, causing me to puke. The door creaks open and a hand runs up and down my back, "Oh, darling."

"You know, this happened the night before Tom and I told you all that we were expecting." I let out a humorless laugh as I lay my arm back down on the side of the tub to catch my breath. "But tonight is about ten times worse."

"How long have you been up?" She asks as she moves to sit down beside me.

"Didn't fall asleep, but I've been in here since one."

"I'm sorry, darling," She coos.

"Not your fault," I whisper as I lean my head on the cool, porcelain tub.

"Is everyone alright in here?" Dom pokes his head in to see his wife and I on the floor, "We wondered why you two weren't in bed."

"'We'?" I ask, opening my eyes to look at him. After a second Tom joins his side, backpack hung over his shoulder and suitcase in his other hand.

"Hey, love," he mutters setting his things down before walking into the bathroom.

"There are too many people in this bathroom," I mutter, Tom slowly moving his hands to try and help me to stand, "Tom, I can't-"

"We are just going down stairs, settle on the couch for the rest of the night, yeah?" Tom says, lifting me carefully into his arms. "I'll be back up to clean, Mum."

"We can take care of it, Tom. Just worry about (Y/N/N)." Dom says, moving Tom's bags before we pass. I bury my face into his neck, breathing him in.

Tom chuckles at my reaction, "Love, I think it is a little strange to be smelling me-"

"You're not the one with the upset stomach, so shut up." I mutter into his neck, making him laugh. "Besides, a different smell might help a bit."

He sets me down on the couch before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "No, I am not, but I do have some things that might help and get you back to sleep." He mutters, standing back up, grabbing a trashcan to place near the couch, flipping the t.v. on, and finally leaving me in the living room while he retreats into the kitchen.

"Why did you leave?" I whine, hearing him chuckle as he moves around the kitchen. I smile as he walks back with my water bottle in hand.

"Wanted to get you more water," he stands next to me, handing my bottle to me. Tom motions for me to carefully lean forward so he can settle behind me so I can lay on his chest.

I go to take a sip and am hit with the overpowering smell of lemons. "Did you put lemons in this?"

"Yeah, lots of websites say that lemons help with morning sickness, like how ginger does too. Also, one of the makeup artists told me that lemons helped her a bunch when she was pregnant." He tilts his head to press a kiss to my cheek, running his hands under my shirt and over the bump, soothing me. I sip slowly on the water, focusing on the movement of his hands and the buzz from the t.v., slowly lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

I wake the next morning when I feel something brush against my nose. I flutter my eyes open, only to close them again when Tess licks my cheeks. A squeal escapes my lips, as I pull the sheet back over my head while Tess tries to show how happy she is to see me awake.

"Tess, leave her alone." Tom laughs, pulling her away from me and shooing her the other direction. Then he crouches next to me, carefully pulling the sheet away from my face. "How are you this morning, darling?"

"Better than when you found me last night." I mutter, my hand going into his hair to run through his dark locks.

"Good, how about we get some food in you, I'm thinking (Y/F/B), then we can go for a walk?" He suggests, squeezing my hip under the covers.

"Only if you have tea ready for me."

"Already on the table." He states, giving me his hand to pull me off the couch.

Tom and I spent time talking over breakfast, the house quiet since his parents are gone for the day while Paddy is at school. He squeezes my hand before grabbing our now empty plates. "Why don't you go upstairs and change, then we can take Tess for a walk?"

Tess jumps at our legs as the two of us stand and move about the room, "Sounds perfect, baby boy." I smile as I see Tom's face flush a bright shade of red, but his smile is undeniably the brightest that I had seen in a long time. I walk upstairs, slipping into his childhood bedroom to change. I pull out a pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt with a pocket on the chest, but my shorts won't button. I groan, stripping out of them and kicking them away. After I look in my bag and spot something else to wear and toss my shirt over my head. I grab a light blue, white vertical line button up t-shirt dress and button it into place. I slip on a pair of flats, wander to the bathroom and brush my teeth, before I walk down the stairs to smile at Tom, who has Tess already on a lead ready to go.

"You look lovely, bug." He mutters, pulling me into a quick kiss.

"And you look handsome as always." I giggle, taking his hand before walking out the door with him. The two of us start up the street, Tess tugging us along happily.

After strolling for a few minutes Tom tugs my hand so I fall into his side, making me laugh. "Do you remember when we were like, maybe six or seven and we would walk to the end of the block and go to Mr. and Mrs. Freeman's house?"

"We used to tell our parents we were going to visit the 'neighborhood grandparents' and we would go play in their front yard until Mrs. Freeman would invite us inside to help her bake some sort of sweet." I laugh, leaning into his side as his arm wraps around my shoulder.

"Or Mr. Freeman would take us into the backyard to show us how to build a birdhouse," Tom chuckles. "Do you remember when we used to say we would raise our kids in that house?"

"I do." I smile, wrapping my arm around his and leaning into his side, Tom presses a kiss to my forehead. "We only said that because we couldn't believe that it was the first and only house her and her husband lived in. Even as little kids we knew we wanted that."

"We did," Tom states, smiling at me. He doesn't say anything for a minute, the two of us slowing our paces. Tom stops us in front of a house, opening the gate for me, and at first glance I don't recognize it. The two story home looked well loved and inviting. A new coat of dark blue paint caused the white windows and trim to pop. The path lead to the front porch, a small patch of roof covering the entrance from any weather that would bombard guests, with windows on either side of the turquoise door, the same shade as the cottage door back in Oregon.

"This is Mr. and Mrs. Freeman's house, or was?" I mutter, Tom only reaching out and taking my hand. "Tom, what is going on?" I giggle as he tugs me toward the door. I watch as he fishes a key out of his jacket pocket before he unlocks the door.

He turns toward me and gives me a nervous smile, "Don't freak out."

I let out a laugh and squeeze his hand in reassurance as he pushes the door open and leads me and Tess inside. I let out a gasp at the sight before me.

The front room that I remember was completely changed. The wallpaper had been stripped away and is now painted a pale gray. The carpet had been ripped out, uncovering warm wood floors that led down to where the kitchen had been. A dark blue couch and love-seat sprinkled in different colored throw pillows framed the fireplace, a t.v. hanging above it. The stairs that were directly in front of the entrance no longer had the old, fuzzy carpet running up it, replaced with a textured carpet that would make a person less likely to slip and fall down them. God, I could remember sliding down those stairs right at the forefront of my mind. Pictures of Tom and I through our life litter the space, some going up the stairs to the second floor.

"Tom, what, how?" I look at him in shock, unable to really speak my mind. Tom only smiles, tugging me further into the house. He stops in the kitchen, letting go of my hand as I look around the room. The room had been completely gutted and redone. Sky blue cabinets and cupboards with white marble counter-tops are nestled against two of the walls. Stainless steel appliances nestled into the spaces left for them, and white subway tiles decorate the walls between the cabinets and counter-tops. A small wood island with two stools sit in the middle of the kitchen, a vase filled with bouquet flowers sitting in the middle of it. On the wall across the entrance is a sliding door that leads to the back yard, showing the freshly painted white fence. A small, wood table sits a few feet from the door, rounded corners as for no one to knick themselves with simple chairs all around it.

Tom lets me slowly move about the house, looking at all the old rooms that are now either completely changed, or just have a fresh coat of paint, new flooring, and decorated to a t. He follows me up the stairs, watching me as I slip in and out of each room in amazement. I stop when I find a room painted a soft shade of gray with a plain wood floor sitting empty on the second floor.

"I thought," Tom's voice pulls me from my thoughts, making me turn to look at him. He is looking at the floor, a small blush on his cheeks. "I thought this could be the baby's room."

I walk over to him, cupping his cheeks. "When did you do this? When did you have time to do this?"

"Um," he lets out a laugh before pressing his forehead to mine, "We were in London for a few days for the premiere. I was out on a run and I saw Mrs. Freeman's family moving her out, her husband died a few years back and she was having a hard time living home by herself. I walked over and offered her family a hand, then went inside to say hello to her. She eventually asked about you and I told her that we were together, and expecting a baby. She was beyond excited. She somehow remembered that conversation we had with her in her kitchen when we were little; the one where we told her when her and her husband could no longer stay here, we would buy their house and raise our children here. She looked at me with the brightest smile, and offered to sell us the house. Her kids didn't even fight it, she gave me her price, I sighed a check for a little more than what she asked, and got the deed for the house, all before noon."

"You bought the house, while you were touring for your new movie, that's insane!"

"Stan and Mackie would not stop teasing me, made comments about how we haven't been together long, blah blah blah."

I giggle, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before looking at him in amazement. "But what about all the remodeling, you've been on the go for months."

"My family kept an eye on the place and helped me with all sorts of stuff." He laughs, pulling me into him again. "You haven't even gotten to the best of all the rooms in the house."

I giggle as he pulls me down the hallway. He opens the door, showing off the master bedroom. He smiles as I speed walk into the room and plop on the plush bed. He joins me, laughing along with me.

"Welcome home, love."

"Home sweet, home, Holland."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment!

@revenantwriting | @bellagrayson-wayne | @jackiehollanderr | @snowxbarryxendgame​ | @let-me-luve-you​ | @mybitchborky

Chapter Thirteen

#cg writes #time never stops #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tomhollandxyoutuber!reader #bestfriendstoloversau #bestfriend!tom holland #best friends to lovers #dad!tom holland

[girlbookwrm]

It’s here! At last!  THE MIGHTY PRE ENDGAME REWATCH CONTINUES, WITH:

AKA IS IT MY BIRTHDAY? YES. YES IT IS.

(or it was at any rate, it took me Some Time to get this all typed up because holy fuck it’s long. looks like i’ve got Some Feelings about The Winter Soldier. WHO KNEW)

ANYWAY, if you’re wondering what the hell this is all about i’ve been rewatching all the marvel movies (and commentating on them) in preparation for Avengers: Endgame and NOW IT IS TIME FOR MY FAVORITE ONE

I got @goteamwin​ and @pegasuschick​ here IT’S A PARTY! WE GOT COOL RANCH DORITOS AND BRAINWASHED SUPERSOLDIERS LET’S DO THIS.

Day 912: i still miss the old marvel logo

LISTEN THIS IS THE BEST OPENING SCENE IN MARVEL HISTORY FIGHT ME.

“~on your left ;)~” honestly? iconic.

God Bless Steven Grant Rogers and his Smedium Shirts.

Steve, known bisexual disaster, is hitting on Sam here. this isn’t even in question, right? Sam’s quip about “making me look good to the girl at the front desk” was a soft rejection and Steve takes it like a champ.

Important to note: the black widow uses emojis in her text messages. 

Also important to note: Sam Wilson hits on the Black Widow because he flies into combat at 100 miles per hour wearing a tee-shirt and dad jeans he fears nothing not even death itself

also also important to note that The Roommate went to see this movie by herself, low key cosplaying as Fem!Cap. she did this in part because I had gone to see it first (i was in the UK at the time, and it came out over there before it came out in the US. ~IRONY~) and as soon as I got back from seeing it (i had low-key cosplayed as fem!Hawkeye. it’s a long story) I emailed her and was like O HAI U SEEN DIS? U WILL LIKE IT. ~and she dii-iiiiiid.~

every time i see this scene now, i hear that bit from the gag real.

cevans: Kill the engines. wait for instructions. *whining and stamping his foot* cuz i’m in chaaaaaaaarge.

Being asked about your dating life and then immediately jumping out of an airplane is a Big Mood

I would like us all to appreciate that steve put a nice matte stealth finish on his patriotic dinner plate, special for this mission. 

Also, we’re all agreed that Steve kills at pool, yeah? Give me Steve being a pool shark at the local watering hole plz n thank.

Steve: *punches a guy through the shield*

The Roommate: but why does he punch that guy through the shield?

Me, having a Terrible Thought: Maybe one time he accidentally punched through a guy’s face and ever since then he uses the shield as, like, a buffer when he wants to take people alive.

The Gal Pal: WOW. YOU WENT THERE.

parkour!

~Hey Sailor ;)~

that one guy working for Batroc really needs to lay off the steroids, or whatever is giving him this Unnecessary Rage. You know the guy I mean.

love how batroc is jchilling and then WHAM! IT IS I! AMERICA!

ON! VA! VOIR!

did he learn this from Dernier? he learned this from Dernier.

The Gal Pal: that is a ridiculously huge flash drive

Me, Just Now: overcompensate much?

Nat’s little eyeroll after Steve says “you’re damn right”

The Roommate: Nat is So Tired of Steve’s Drama™. And now she’s going to have to deal with his cold shoulder the whole flight back, and she’s going to have no one to talk to but Rumlow and uggghhhhhh

Steve comes into Fury's office and Damn. Dat Ass.

The Roommate: They know what they're doing here.

eyyyyyy tony’s in this movie (kinda)

I love that Steve just like, drives around with the shield on his back. 

Enter The Smithsonian.

The Roommate: I! LOVE! THIS! SO! MUUUUUUCH!!!

Me: Gee sure would be nice to be able to go to a smithsonian right now.

*american sobbing intensifies*

The Roommate: what is the timeline here? does he come straight back from the mission into yelling at fury? and then straight here?? Is Steve just like “oop time to go look at my old stuff and Emote”? Is this his routine??

buckyyyyyyyyyyy

listen yall know the extent of my BuckRogers feels but every time they pull out that compass i develop a terrible case of The Steggies.

“It’s just not the same” ha ha kill me.

~So Dramatic ;)~

“Steve?” HA HA HA KILL ME

Fury’s Computer:

At This Juncture The Commentators Would Like It Noted That It Has Been 23 Solid Minutes of Stuff We 1000% L O V E and everyone’s favorite brainwashee has not even appeared yet.

but he’s coming

s o o n

Also, we all hate Alexander Pierce but he is a great villain and also Robert Redford might be an older fella but he can definitely still get it heyooo

Steve is so awkward here. But like, imagine him actually going to one of these VA things, like everyone’s all “ied this, helicopter that” and steve’s just like “so one time in ‘44 i punched my way into a panzer”

The Roommate, Who Is Sometimes More Evil Than Me: ~NOW IS AN EXCELLENT TIME TO REMEMBER THAT RILEY WASN’T IN A PLAAAAAANE~

at this moment, the DC driving types lost their goddamn minds.

“WHAT IS THIS? WHERE IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE? WHERE, IN WASHINGTION, THE DISTRICT OF GODDAMN COLUMBIA, IS THERE THIS LITTLE TRAFFIC, HUH??”

“You wanna see my lease?” i c o n i c. 

Did you know that SLJ was an actual Black Panther? I did not know this, but as soon as the Gal Pal told me, i was like “oh yeah that checks out.”

meanwhile, the couch based road rage continued all around me.

“This part of DC ~DOES NOT EXIIIIIIIIIIIIST~”

“Traffic alert? on the Roosevelt Bridge? Yeah in other news WATER IS WET.”

“wait is he getting on 66? ARE YOU GETTING ON 66?? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???”

“Have you ever even been on 495?????”

HE’S HERE!!!

just like, damn gurl, u make that highway ur catwalk. 

Me: What the hell kind of laser pointer do you have there, Nick?

The Gal Pal & The Roommate: It’s A Lightsaber.

The Roommate: So is this just like? An Average Day In The Life Of Captain Rogers? Get up, go for a run, annoy a veteran, fly to the other side of the world, kick ass, fly home, talk back to a superior officer, drop my priceless shield off at home, go emote at a smithsonian exhibit, have my heart ripped out by my nonagenarian ex, go flirt with annoy a veteran (part two, now with added Feelings™) go home, get rejected by my neighbor, CHASE A FUGITIVE.

JUST ANOTHER DAY! IN THE LIFE OF STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!!

honestly his neighbors must hate him

that’s why Sharon’s his neighbor, everyone else LEFT.

The Biggest Flash Drive

Let’s Not Forget, that because she is undercover as a nurse, Sharon probably just kicked that door down with crocs.

YOU’RE WELCOME

let’s appreciate that the Soldier’s theme music is just SCREAMING and also you should know that every time it comes on, the Gal Pal and I start SCREAMING. not, like, in an “oh we’re excited” way, just, like, the way you sing along to the theme song of your favorite TV show, you know?

PARKOUR!

The Roommate: good job with your eyeliner there, buddy. You Did Your Best.

The Gal Pal: That Is Dupont Circle and Steve is Extremely Gay. 

(yes, we know he’s bi.)

Natasha really should know better than to believe that Nick is dead.

THAT IS THE WORST PLACE TO HIDE THE FLASH DRIVE

The Gal Pal: genuinely, it’s such a bad hiding place it stresses me out.

The Roommate: Yeah, what was he thinking? I mean, was his logic just that no one likes that gross bubblegum?

Me: UM WHAT?

The Gal Pal: EXCUSE YOU THAT IS BUBBLE YUM.

The Roommate: ... yeah but it’s the gross bubblegum flavor?

At this point we lost a few minutes to divide into Pro and Anti Bubblegum Camps and then had to run the movie back because we missed:

~Neighbor ;)~

i c o n i c

The Roommate: Sir. Stop Having That Face. That is Illegal.

(she is having A Difficulty. The Difficulty is cevans’ jawline)

But seriously: What actually happens in this scene? We are all Steve and we all want to punch our way out of this confusing conversation.

God that face/those tits/that ass tho

Young Man. You Stop That.

THE ELEVATOR SCENE. I mean how many movies can say that some of their best scenes happen in an elevator? That alone is a real accomplishment.

They’re all ~soooo casual~ and then there’s rollins, who isn’t even trying. “records.” These WWE wrestlers are not going to records, come on.

at this point we stopped commentating except in inarticulate whoops of delight and shrieks of glee. except for one brief aside

Me: This scene is so sexy, but like, not in a sexy way? Like, the fighting style isn’t that “oooo I’m fighting in a sexy way” it’s just, it’s so...!

The Roommate: Primal?

and I regret to inform you all that yes, she is 100% Correct, it is indeed sexy in a primal way.

“whoa big guy”

i just.

that’s all i got on that

tiny turtle of freedom

we had the subtitles on, and it just says “woman screams” Screams in what? JOY? 

It’s raining men! Hallelujah!

“Stand down, Captain Rogers! Stand! Down!

Captain Rogers: *accelerates*

They’re being made to watch social media so what I want to know is which poor SHIELD guy got stuck monitoring tumblr?

“oh we’re getting all kinds of hits but uhhhhhhhhh they’re not......... pertinent..............”

why doesn’t The Biggest Flash Drive have a cap? it is now full of crumbs. it’s full of crumbs, guys. if it’s going to be that big it should at least be one of those cool slider ones.

“Are you calling for my resignation? do you know who i am? Bitch I Am Robert Redford.”

Apple Store Aaron. “hey guys why’s your flash drive so big??”

“yeeeah. we’re getting married.”

Honeymoon destinations -- where are you going?

Steve: (without thinking, reads the first thing he sees) New Jersey

Steve: *dies a little inside*

Steve: *forgive me bucky for i have sinned*

I love that they’re coming out and Steve is 100% tactical brain and then Nat’s just like “put your arm around me and laugh” and when it works Steve just looks back over his shoulder like:

oh my god it worked???

sPyING is WitCHCraFT?????

“was that your first kiss since 1945?”

“That was not my first kiss since 1945,” said Steven Grant Rogers, Who Is Definitely Lying, and Furthermore, Is Fooling Exactly No One.

Sidenote: Ship and let ship, obviously and always, but I love Steve and Nat as BROS too much to ever see them romantically, The Bromance Is Strong With Them.

it’s been said before, but it’s worth saying again

Steve: kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience.

Bucky, ten minutes later, wearing bondage gear: HELLO IT IS I

SKINNY STEVE!

of course he memorized the army regulations.

Listen. The cell phone trick Bugs Me™ and the only thing that lets me get through it is the idea that they cleverly cut around natasha standing there for 40 minutes trying out every possible permutation of those numbers, with possible duplications.

I like the idea that Computer!Zola has been building this little fanvideo since the mid-seventies and he’s just! so excited! to show it to someone!

Steve punching the screen is another Big Mood.

“even captain america and the black widow can’t survive a missile Directly To The Face” BITCH U THOUGHT

it’s nice that they give bucko a kirk light here

~u want some milk? ;)~

honestly, what the fuck even is that line.

they made Robert Redford say that line.

what does it mean

YOUNG MAN! THAT IS! ILLEGAL!

altho tbh i want a slightly grubby Steve in a tank top to give me a pep talk, like, every day. that would be fine.

The Gal Pal, A Curly Haired Individual: hhhhhhhow did Natasha straighten her hair. This makes me So Angry.

Me: I mean, I like to imagine her with Sam’s Iron and ironing board, just like *mimes frantically ironing hair with a Very Soviet Expression*

Fort Meade is the best scene that isn’t in the movie.

Aw Gary Shandling’s here. Awwwww Gary Shandling...

Sam, are you intimidating this guy or flirting with him?

To Those who remember the Potato/Gremlin Scale, I propose a third option, a kind of venn diagram situation going on, where the third option is Fey Creature. Sam is neither Potato nor gremlin, but he might be a Fey Creature.

God I love this scene.

LOOK AT SAM HERE: No armor, no flightsuit, no fucking knee pads no goddamn helmet just Casual Dad Falcon, Suns Out Guns Out.

Steve: What the fuck’s an SAT.

he’s coming.

*SCREAMING*

he’s here.

is it murder or is he modeling?? “you got this Soldier, make ‘em wait for it... Boom.”

this is the greatest fight scene of all time, honestly. This and then the fight scene in the first RDJ holmes movie are the Only fight scenes i can even remotely stand to watch. Except maybe some of the bending battles in ATLA. but this scene. this is top of the list. it’s just. *kissy chef fingers*

Soldier strolling along not firing his weapon because he has no shot and he is a Child of the Depression who don’t waste no bullets.

only loses his cool when Widow Breaks his stuff.

Sam Wilson: Brings a pocket knife to an automatic rifle fight and wins.

“go, I got this!”

aw yeah you do

THAT STRUT™

Soldier strolling along the street. so bored. could be home watching project runway.

That thing Soldier does with the arm Does Things to me for reasons that I choose not to examine too closely

ANYWAY WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT.

“who the hell is bucky” wow there Soldier you went from Full Russian to American Accented English awfully quick I Wonder Why

Soldier’s reaction to confusion is to Immediately Shoot and honestly that’s a Big Mood.

We are all agreed that the only reason SHIELD succeeds in taking Steve in is because

look at that face

steve’s not here right now, please leave a message.

More DC Area Rage: “WHERE IS THIS DAM? WHERE??”

natasha y r u surprised that Fury is alive?

oh noooooooooooo it’s time for this scene

OHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOO

Robert Redford to James Buchanan Barnes: You are a literal treasure.

OH NO OH NO OH NO

The Roommate: yeahhhhh this was maybe an. inappropriate scene for me to have to see in a theater. alone.

I love that while they’re making this ridiculous plan (yeah it’s ridiculous, i don’t care) Fury has to check in with Sam (WHO HE HAS LITERALLY NEVER MET BEFORE) presumably to just touch base and be like “Is this White Nonsense™?”

spoiler alert it is not White Nonsense™, but it definitely is Extra™

DAT JAWLINE THO. of course he’s giving the orders, LOOK AT THAT JAWLINE

LIL STEEB!

I’m with you to the end of the line.

what kind of marriage vow nonsense is that

jesus.

anyway, Sam comes in like: IT IS I! YOUR BEST FRIEND! YOUR BEST FRIEND IS ME NOW!

poooterrrr!!

This is the second secure government facility that they have broken into. Possibly the third, depending whether you count the bunker.

Dem Asses. Seriously. Everyone in this shot has an enviable ass. *distinguished golf clapping* bravo

“~Excuse us~” i c o n i c

God, Steve gives this speech and then we get sam’s reaction and you can physically see him having a sexual identity crisis and honestly BIG MOOD THERE, SAM

I have questions about the effect of this on the potomac river which has already had a hard enough time and does not deserve this Supervillain Nonsense.

you are ON FOOT steven. it is a FLYING AIRCRAFT CARRIER and you are ON! FOOT!

i’m so mad that it works too

mad, but like, also turned on. duh.

what’s cap’s true superpower? DRAMA

The saddest thing in this movie is that Jenny Agutter is Scarlet Johansson

don’t get me wrong, i like scarjo but this movie would’ve been even better if it wasn’t the black widow and was just a badass old british lady.

The Roommate: Sam’s superpower is that he’s the sane one.

Me: He flies into combat at 100 miles per hour with a jet pack and a tee shirt he is not the sane one.

The Roommate: Sam’s superpower is that he’s the emotionally balanced one?

Me: given the aforementioned armorless airborne combat situation that is highly fucking debatable my dude.

*SCREAMING*

HE’S HERE

let’s appreciate that Bucky is definitely flying this quinjet with a dead guy that he just murdered as his copilot.

i don’t know why that is so badass to me but it is

again, we don’t have time to unpack all of that, moving on.

Nick Fury: BITCH YOU THOUGHT

sidenote: i’m gonna really enjoy coming back to this movie after Captain Marvel. I can just feel it.

Maria is so casual about this. And that is an extremely sexy thing. I’m not sorry.

“Hey Sam, I’m gonna need a ride.”

Sam is still learning Rogersese and does not know that this means “I ALREADY DID THE STUPID THING PLEASE COME GET ME.”

Bucky ripping the wings off a beautiful butterfly

because Sam IS a beautiful butterfly.

except now his knees and legs and ankles are all broken because That’s How Bones Work.

he’s here

lol of course he’s got a knife.

I just love the sounds the arm makes.

butwedon’thavetimetounpackallofthat

the slide Bucky does here, this isn’t combat this is voguing.

Steve fights like the world is his barroom, bucky fights like the world is his catwalk.

“DON’T YOU TALK TO MY DAUGHTER LIKE THAT,” Nicholas J Fury

what’s the found family version of a BroTP? I have that for Dad!Nick and Adopted!Soviet!Assassin!Daughter!Natasha.

found familotp? FFOTP? no, that sounds like some kind of tactical asset. “LAUNCH THE FFOTP”

anyway, get on this tumblr, i want at least 10 options on my desk by monday.

This Extra. He could honestly make a living playing Confederates and Klansmen, you know which extra I mean.

“wHere ahre the tahrgets?”

the targets... is we.

A DC Local Aside: Everyone on 495 is So Tired of this nonsense. I sincerely hope they all remembered to pee before they left work. I hope they have snacks and water in their cars. because they now live on 495.

this shitshow is gonna fuck up our already extremely fucked up traffic patterns for yeeeeaaaaarrrrrssssss

Sam’s a born quipper, so i really like it when he sees the helicarrier coming down and just fucking bolts. NO TIME FOR SASS WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE

“Got a location on Rogers?”

Don’t know where he is, but he’s doing something stupid, i Guarantee It.

“you know me.”

“nNOo I dOn’T!”

Oh Steve. You put that shield down So Often. And you keep having to fucking pick it up a-fucking-gain.

And This Was The Moment When We All Realized That We Were In Trouble.

Big Mood, Bucky. Big Mood.

Sam wasn’t on the approved visitor’s list or anything, he just winked at one (1) nurse and they let him in.

i know just what to say it’ll annoy him so fucking much. “on your left.”

“Why haven’t we heard from Captain Rogers?”

Because he is taking a damn nap.

no but seriously, because if we put him in front of a camera right now, you will get the Talking To of the Century.

*eight hours later, congress is crying, hydra has surrendered, fox news is shutting down, steve rogers is still going strong* “AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON STUDENT DEBT!”

~cool guys don’t look at congressional meltdowns. They drop the mic and they walk away~

IT WAS CLEVELAND, IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING.

THEY FILMED IN CLEVELAND.

(they did film some in DC, obviously, but also cleveland.

*emoting at exhibits intensifies*

*SCREAMING INTENSIFIES*

in sum i have been typing for Too Long and I’m going to hit post so i can Go To Bed but there may need to be Corrections in the morning who tf knows

#the mighty pre endgame rewatch #mcu #Captain America: The Winter Soldier

[bluehero]

The Sergeant’s Soulmate Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky X Y/N

Warnings: Mostly fluff but smut happens :/ 

Summary: Y/N, a research scientist, finds herself in Wakanda giving her the opportunity to further her research using their technology - now that they’ve opened their borders to the rest of the world. She always dreamed of adventure, but never thought she’d cross paths with a former assassin super soldier with a jawline that could cut glass. Trying to navigate her 20′s, career and love life, Bucky Barnes is about to become her compass. 

Word Count: 5,582

A/N: To say I am terrified is an understatement, and I have a tendency to ramble so I’ll keep this short. Basically I wrote this at a time when my anxiety was sky high and just needed to find creative outlet. I never thought I’d ever put it online as I have never written a fanfic before. But I have read what feels like thousands of Bucky fanfics and they have brought me such joy and comfort so I thought if there was even the slightest chance that someone somewhere might read this and smile, it was worth the leap of faith to figure out tumblr and upload. So here we are... 

P.S Please forgive any typos and grammatical errors, I’m an emotional mess 24/6

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After a long day fuelled only by coffee and short hopeful gazes outside the nearby window, Y/N was called into her boss’s office. It had been six months of working as a research scientist specialising in psychology after a few years of med school. She felt she had learned so much through her work but ironically anxiety was never far and seemed to creep in when the pressure to deliver got too much. But she loved her field and held on to the hope that her hard work and passion for understanding the human brain would take her on a life of adventure. Somehow. One day.

“The Wakandan medical boards have begun to take interest in our research…” her boss was a veteran of the industry with a kind place in his heart for those suffering as he himself once did long ago. “That’s amazing” was all Y/N could say as she was overwhelmed with excitement knowing how much Wakandan technology could further their work. When she was asked to work alongside him in Wakanda for 3 weeks at the kings’ headquarters, all she could squeak out was 'I would love the opportunity, thank you'. Sometimes she just couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't smart enough to be where she was but was always told by those that cared for her that she worked hard enough and didn’t need to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The flight was long and smooth like the coffee she needed to wake her up to the beautiful Wakandan morning as they landed. But even with the caffeine she found herself zoning out of the meetings that rolled on through the day. She had always been a daydreamer and the Wakandan views felt surreal, Y/N could picture herself sitting under the tallest trees bathed in the glow of the sunrise - the only thing better than the sunsets apparently. She was pulled back to reality by the King’s empowering speech about Wakanda finally being apart of research that could lead to helping those suffering throughout the country – One of whom, seemed to have woken up in a rather good mood that morning. 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair and parted the curtain to his hut just enough to step out and take a pensive look around him. Maybe he wanted to take it all in, again, after months of being in paradise just to remind himself it was real. Or maybe he just wanted to clear all the vantage points for any potential threats. He couldn’t tell the difference anymore. That day however, he felt a sense of safety deep in his bones, as if the tide was finally changing. There were days he would feel so close to the man he used to be, self-assured and in control but these were balanced out by the days he’d barely feel like a ghost of himself, his bones aching with the weight of his past. Shuri came walking over to him seemingly understanding the journey his head had gone through in the last few minutes. “Sergeant Barnes, would you mind coming to the labs? I’ve designed an upgrade for your arm that I think you’re going to like “, “Bucky…” he muttered, reminding Shuri that she was probably the closest thing he had to family, barring Steve. “…Lead the way doc”.

It was only after the session that Shuri convinced Bucky to attend the party that evening. She believed he would remember the fun he used to have in the 40’s and get reconnected to the few happier memories of his past. Now with the trigger words out of his system, a new lease of life (and a farm), she secretly wanted him to meet Y/N, who had become her closest friend over the past few months.   

Shuri was Y/N's point of contact back in London where they would skype to discuss business arrangements, but they became fast friends after Shuri could hear Kendrick Lamar spilling out of her headphones accidentally during one of their business calls. They ended up sharing numbers and messaging each other every day bonding over their passions and finding comfort in one another after a bad day. Shuri got to learn that Y/N didn’t always know her own worth but that she had a heart of gold and kindness within her, just like the Bucky she had begun to unravel.

Y/N was sliding on her last black heel and fixing the dodgy clasp when her boss knocked at her door. She raked a hand through her hair for the fifth time while taking last look in the mirror. The party that night was to welcome all the international doctors and scientists – but mostly give them a chance to let loose. Her long black dress had a slit on her left leg travelling slightly higher than she would usually dare – a dress that Shuri had told her would be perfect. Her dusky pink lipstick made her smile appear brighter to contrast her slickly black lined eyelids. She tucked the hair on her left behind her ear to allow her silver drop down earing to glisten slightly as she hurried to the door.

 A few floors up, Steve helped Bucky with his bow tie. Shuri had left his visit as a surprise for Bucky given that it was his birthday the day before and she hadn’t gotten him anything other than a giant cake with ‘Happy Birthday Senior Citizen’ iced across the top. Steve naturally brought along a few other avengers including Natasha who was sporting a similar dress to Y/N which was no doubt for his benefit later, along with Sam and Clint who just couldn’t stay away from a good party.

Steve instantly picked up on Bucky’s discomfort as he shifted around in his tux. “You nervous?” Steve asked giving Bucky a pat on the back. “It’s just a little weird- haven’t had to wear one of these in a while.” Bucky muttered as he fixed his cufflinks T’Challa gifted him as a thank you for attending the party. Truthfully Bucky was trying to muster up the self-confidence he used to exude, having confronted how closed off he had become with Shuri in their sessions. As if Steve could sense it all he joked with Bucky asking with a sheepish grin, “Remember that time Peggy walked into that pub back in London?”. “How could I forget – the day I became invisible” Bucky muttered back with a smile that reached his eyes in appreciation of his brother trying to pull him out of his own head. “By the way, did you end up taking those girls dancing that night while I was enlisting?” Steve asked through the laughter. The distant memory made a small laugh escape Bucky’s lips as he remembered, “Yeah, you could call it that” - that old confidence pulling him back to the present. They both laughed at the time gone by and gave each other a hug that said everything the other was thinking. “Jerk” Steve muffled by Bucky’s shoulder, “Punk” Bucky retorted.

All the avengers were at the bar when she walked in. Bucky’s eyes widened as they fixated on her like magnets. She cautiously stepped along with her boss, shaking hands with the guests and smiling with sincerity knowing they were all there to support a good cause. He felt she’d never hurt a fly. “Watch it” Bucky joked as Steve nudged the human arm he was using to hold a beer, still grinning a little despite being broken out of his reverie. Steve had seen that smile before, back in the 1940’s when Bucky had set his eyes on a woman to take… dancing.

“I saw where your eyes went..." Steve said, “...I heard she’s a scientist from London…”. Bucky took a long draught of his beer, his eyes never leaving Y/N's back from across the room as she began to take in the vast and beautifully decorated hall. He'd almost finished his beer when Steve said quietly “Go talk to her Buck.” Bucky turned his head just enough for Steve to catch his eyes and in that moment, he could see broken fragments in his friends eyes, understanding that he didn’t want to trouble anyone with his life – let alone the beautiful woman before him. “What have you got to lose?” Steve asked before he was whisked away by Natasha for a dance.

Y/N approached the bar, unknowingly heading for the empty space Steve left. As she came closer, she took in the sight of Bucky feeling a shiver run down her spine at such a man from his side profile as he watched the band begin to warm up, a sound he forgot he loved once so long ago. With a Marlon Brando smoulder, his hair had been slicked back slightly, glistening in the low lighting, and an upper back sculpted from a century of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He turned back to face the bar, leaving his magnificent profile as a snapshot in Y/N’s memory. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked Y/N. Bucky allowed the warmth and softness of her voice, rich like velvet caress his ear, as she ordered a whisky neat. But he sensed the slight anxiousness in her voice, only those closest to her would pick up on. “Actually, could I make that a double? Thanks”. She looked to her left at the man letting out a tiny huff, almost a laugh at the change in her order, and when he caught her gaze he growled out “Good call” as the hall began to heave with more people. She grinned looking back to the bar unable to look his way without blushing. Her eyes widened so briefly in disbelief that a man like him would strike up a conversation with her - lighting her up like a match inside. She didn’t realize Bucky had witnessed the flicker of her eyes and that he’d began to enjoy the effect he had on her. His metal arm whirred ever so slightly, masked by the sounds of the jazz band, due to the way her body had been defined by her dress when her long leg slipped out as she reached to grab her drink.

Bucky realized he’d been staring when she looked back at him. Her adrenaline kicked her mouth open to stumble out the words “Can I get you another?” motioning to his empty pint glass. “I probably shouldn’t” he replied inching ever so slightly closer to her. “Why not?” she teasingly asked. “Well, then I’d have an excuse to tell you that you’re beautiful.” Bucky muttered in a low voice. “When was the last time you used that line?” Y/N retorted thanks to the whiskey she downed in one. Bucky grinning, mistakenly thinking she’d be taken by his words, replied “About 70 years ago”. Y/N let out a sincere laugh, not realizing it was the truth and felt flustered by his charm. The realization that she was flirting with a Greek god of man caused her self-consciousness to creep in, convincing her to escape to the bathroom. “I should probably get ba- “

“You like Jazz?” He asked as his body turned to properly face her, back against the band. Truthfully, she loved it and couldn’t deny what jazz did to her soul. As if Bucky could read her mind, he asked “Do you have a favourite song?” he couldn’t believe the storm that was building inside of him watching her shy eyes drift away as she got lost in thought. “My funny valentine”, she managed to quietly say, with a little shrug Bucky found adorable.

She was pulled out of the bubble Bucky had been building when he began to turn as if to walk away. Her heart skipped a beat as she held breath when he dipped his head closer to her ear and hummed “I’ll be right back”. Her wild eyes locked onto his for a split second before he walked up to Steve and mouthed something to him that made him smile and pat Bucky on the shoulder. Then it clicked, she was watching the winter soldier talking to captain America. Before she could get a little starstruck, he was walking back to her slipping his left metal hand in his pocket. She thought it was a move of confidence when really, he just felt self-conscious of his metal arm, worried that he’d scare her away as she didn’t seem to recognize him straight away like most people. Bucky got used to the terrified faces when his arm was exposed and all the people nervously trying to stay away from him when they recognized him without the arm on display. He didn’t want to risk any of that with Y/N, especially not now that his heart had climbed out of his chest and had bared itself on his sleeve.

As the first few notes of the song began, Y/N’s mouth broke into a wide smile with a little laugh escaping her lips. She realized the band was playing her song and felt heat pulsing at the surface of her skin realizing the former Howling Commando was smiling at her, as he was charmed by her reaction. He was reminded of what life used to be like before the avengers, before Hydra, and back when life was simpler. With the newfound confidence this brought Bucky he held out his right hand just enough to ask her in a way his mother would be proud, “Care to dance?”. “You might have to show me how” she replied, utterly bewitched, a feeling she had never felt with any other man, despite there being a few in the past that saw what Bucky did.

She slid her hand into his feeling the warmth spreading across her body and the electricity between them as she sauntered across the dancefloor with Bucky leading the way. …Is your mouth a little weak… “My name is Y/N by the way” … as you open it to speak... “Bucky”. With their right hands clasped in each other’s, Bucky’s left metal arm snaked around her waist resting gently on her back, cautiously trying not to overstep any boundary as she slowly rested her left hand on his bicep. They fit like a puzzle immediately drawing in closer from the crowd. Her left hand slid over to rest on his shoulder as he began to lead with his right foot, Y/N instinctively let his body guide hers as she stepped back with her left. In a second of bravery, or fear that she’d never have this moment again, she looked up to meet his gaze. They both felt a sense of acceptance and safety in a way neither of them knew existed…. Don’t change a hair for me… Driven by desire, Y/N slipped her hand to the nape of Bucky’s neck, as he immediately followed her lead lowering his hand to the small of her back to bring her an inch closer. Melting into each other’s bodies, their lips were mere inches away when Bucky realized he’d found a moment of heaven …stay little valentine, stay… The smell of Bucky’s cologne drove Y/N to close her eyes and tilt her head with her chin almost over his shoulder as he brought their clasped hands to hold against his chest. Intoxicated by her perfume, he dropped his head down slightly closer to hers leaving them to sway hypnotically to the rest of the song with heavy lidded eyes… each day is valentine’s day… As the applause rang out, Y/N was pulled out of her reverie for a second long enough to see Bucky return to reality as well. They both let out a little huffed laugh, realizing the heat and comfort they found in each other’s embrace was intensifying a little too much for a dancefloor full of people. Bucky began to lead her back to the bar by the hand.

Tony had arrived shortly afterwards pretending to be hurt that there was a party happening on the globe somewhere that he didn’t know about. As a result, the bar was kept open all night testing Tony’s deep pockets, with even more people flooding in from Stark Industries, a few keen to fund the research projects being planned.

Bucky and Y/N found themselves at the bar a few drinks in for what felt like a minute to them but ended up being a few hours. The loud hall began to overwhelm the two so Bucky leaned into Y/N and muttered, “You wanna get outta here?” his Brooklyn accent drawn out by the liquor. “Sure- Oh wait one sec” she replied looking up to grab the attention of the bartender as she signalled something to him. Bucky gave a puzzled look with a lopsided grin as the bartender reached below the bar and discretely pulled out a bottle of expensive whiskey that Shuri had set aside for her as a thank you for attending the party knowing it took a lot for Y/N. “You ready?” Y/N asked Bucky with a little glint in her eye as she received the bottle. “After you, doll” Bucky retorted, pretty impressed by her move and not realizing the pet name had slipped out. She thought her knees were already weak until she heard him call her that.

As they stepped outside, Y/N noticed the undone clasp on her heel and handed Bucky the bottle “Could you hold this for a sec?” Bucky caught a glimpse of the heel as her leg slipped out from the slit in dress. “Allow me, doll” he muttered lowly as he bent down and began to feed the strap through the buckle agonizingly sensually Y/N almost let the bottle slip from her hand. His human fingers danced across her ankle as he finished and fought back the desire to kiss her leg. He made sure not to touch her with his metal fingers in fear that they would scorch her skin with the heat resonating through it, but he couldn’t resist lightly tracing her ankle with his human fingers as he stood back up.

Steve watched the pair leave unbeknownst to them and laughed thinking his beloved Bucky was back. He left later with an arm slung around Natasha’s shoulders with the rest of the avengers hobbling behind- inebriated to say the least.

Bucky stole two shot glasses from the kitchen they passed on their way to the gardens he would use as a retreat sometimes if things got too much. He led her to a nearby bench with a view of the endless night sky and the dancing silhouettes of the guests in the hall from a distance. “Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, best friends since childhood “she muttered slightly tipsy as she crossed her legs and leaned back on her side to face Bucky’s stoic profile, a view she was quickly becoming addicted to. He let out a small laugh but replied in a low voice, “You might be one of the few people that have stuck around for longer than a minute after realizing who I am.” “That can’t be true” Y/N replied softly. Bucky turned to look at her glowing eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as if to say don’t worry about me. “You want to play a game?” Y/N asked wide eyed, aching to see that glint in Bucky’s eyes again as she opened the bottle and began to pour the shots. “It’s probably not very responsible of me to get an avenger drunk though” she joked. “I can’t exactly get drunk” Bucky replied smirking. “Side effect of the serum?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow. “So, I’ve been told, doll” Bucky replied, relishing the blush it induced across her body. “You might also be one of the few scientists that have stuck around me for longer than a minute without running any blood tests or asking me about the arm”. Bucky joked flexing his metal fingers. “My research involves more psychological drugs and how they affect the brain actually…” Y/N went on to explain her role in the biggest project Wakanda has been a part of since opening their borders. 

Bucky felt she had a way with words and wanted nothing more than to watch her talk for hours, studying the way her eyes would shine and water slightly when she got a little too passionate. The self-deprecation dusted over her words broke a little part of Bucky’s heart, wanting nothing more than to find out who instilled it in her that she wasn’t good enough - and beat the shit out of them. “I’m sorry to drone on about my work, I hope I didn’t talk you to sleep” she muttered. Bucky just gave her a lopsided grin, shook his head slightly and mumbled “God, you’re incredible”.

Y/N immediately looked down, shaking her head and biting her lip slightly to brush off the compliment. But truthfully, she had never felt so at ease with anyone she had just met. All she knew of the soldier was what she read in the Smithsonian exhibit, unaware of the humanity in the man only seen to the world as Captain America’s best friend – and the iron fist of Hydra.

She cleared her throat in an effort to dissipate the heat that was burning between them and proposed, “How about we ask each other a question, and if we don’t want to answer, take the shot”. “Ladies first”, he grinned already admiring her attempt to get to know each other without the pressure of their pasts.

“So, do you just wake up looking like this or...?” Y/N teasingly asked in an incredulous tone, which made Bucky laugh heartily. “That’s your question?” he asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Well Shuri put some stuff in my hair, but everything else I was born with”. Y/N had to cross her legs a little tighter after feeling the look in his eyes resonate through her body.

“You seemed a little anxious earlier, can I ask why?” Bucky asked sincerely looking up to meet her eyes. “You’re very perceptive Bucky Barnes” Y/N replied with a cautious smile. “I’ve had to be” he replied with honesty and a slight eyebrow raise. “Well, I love my job but sometimes it can get intense and I freak out a little. Sometimes I just need a minute to breathe you know? - which can be hard when I’m surrounded by a bunch of scientists with decades of experience.” Y/N said in a quieter voice. “You belong up there with the best of’em Y/N” Bucky whispered leaning closer as her eyes met his. “You don’t even know me” Y/N whispered incredulously as her foot rested against his leg. “Why do I get the feeling we understand each other better than we know”. Before Y/N could get completely intoxicated by the Greek god of a man gently moving a strand of hair from her neck, Y/N stated with false confidence “Alright last question sergeant, and you’ve got to be honest”. Bucky smirked at the pet name, trying to hide how much he loved hearing it roll her off her tongue. “Favourite movie?” she asked. Bucky found himself in disbelief that he had been talking so effortlessly with someone he had just met without diving into the pain of his missions or life as an avenger. Which was always the topic of his conversations at any gathering Tony forced him to attend for the sake of the team.

“You probably won’t know it but, Top Hat. Fred Astaire and- “, Y/N finished his sentence nodding “… and Ginger Rogers”. “I used to save up, see all their movies on the big screen when I was a kid” he continued, pleasantly surprised by her knowledge. Not thinking she could fall further for the charming super soldier anymore she replied, “That explains the impeccable dance earlier”. Her face was flushed remembering Bucky’s strong embrace. “You weren’t so bad yourself, doll”. He could almost feel her fingertips delicately slide across his neck again. Bucky raised one of the untouched shots, “To the way you wear your hat”, to which Y/N replied, “The way you sip your tea”. After the pair downed both shots, Bucky felt more superhuman than usual and Y/N was close behind. They both agreed it was getting late after seeing most of the guests begin to trail out of the building wobbling. Much like them, Y/N stood up too quickly and lost her balance. Bucky instinctively reached out to hold her hand with his human hand as she steadied herself. Part of him had been craving contact ever since they stopped dancing, and Y/N willingly leaned into his touch. “You gonna be alright doll?”, “I’ll be fine, I’m just staying on the 4th floor” Y/N replied. “I’ll walk you up.” Bucky muttered.

On the slow walk back, the questions didn’t stop as Y/N felt completely at ease with the iron fist of hydra. “You could probably carry a car, or a house” she slurred, more of a verbal realization than a question as Bucky let out a hearty laugh and mumbled “Well I’ve lifted a motorbike”. “I could do that!” Y/N jested. “With one hand, while it’s moving?” Bucky asked with an eyebrow raised raising his glistening metal hand. “Yeah I couldn’t do that” she mumbled shaking her head laughing.

After her clasp came undone again, Bucky asked “You sure you’re ok to walk my love”. “My love?” she slurred smiling slightly, heavy lidded. He blamed the alcohol for the term of endearment, and also hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it not realising she was hanging on his every word. “You know what!” Y/N mumbled as she slipped off her shoes to walk barefoot. “I am now”. Bucky laughed and guided her down the grassy path with his hand on the small of her back. She instinctively held on to his arm and as a cooler breeze began to weave through the gardens. They both leaned in a little closer with her arm spreading across his chest to reach his other shoulder as she turned to avoid facing the sharper winds. “Com’ere, doll” Bucky took this as an invitation and picked her up to carry her bridal style. Y/N squeaked a little in surprise and almost dropped a shoe but allowed herself to lean her head into his shoulder. 

Bucky carried her to her door without breaking a sweat while she absent-mindedly snaked her hand from his neck up to his jaw beginning to turn his head to face hers. Upon reaching the door, he gently eased her onto the ground while remaining entangled in each other’s limbs and eyes locked both still feeling slightly buzzed. Bucky leaned down as she leaned upwards her lips a breath away from his. “I’m sorry for being- I don’t usually- Thank you for-“ Bucky pressed his lips to hers cutting her off, the only way he knew how to say thanks for pulling him out of his head and reminding him of what it felt like to be a regular guy with an honest woman after so long. But he pulled back in a flash, searching her eyes for any hesitation, already worried he had been too forward. She used her hand on his jaw to guide him back down to her mouth and tested her tongue against his bottom lip. Bucky immediately parted his lips to allow the boundary to be broken as he pushed her back to her front door. As they pulled away in need of air, he growled in a low voice “Goodnight doll”, worried he couldn’t control the overwhelming lust and thought it best he peel himself away sooner rather than later. 

She reached overhead to slip the card out from the ledge above the door (her terrible hiding place) and slid it over the key pad without breaking eye contact with Bucky for a second, “Would you um.. like to come in?”. He pushed the handle of the door open, so she didn’t have to turn, but stepped back just a fraction to rub his jaw slightly, to ground himself and let her enter first. He took a few tentative steps inside looking around briefly to see a few conservative dresses on the back of a chair - the failed options for that evening’s affair, and a few bits of makeup splayed across a small ivory vanity. His eyes landed back on Y/N who had raised her leg on the side of the bed to examine her sore ankle, her leg shamelessly on display through the slit. He immediately moved to the space between her legs, his left hand dragging up the exposed leg and his head bent down a little to push his lips on hers again. She raised her leg a little higher accepting Bucky’s touch and to her surprise he began to lift her. Wrapping her other leg around his waist, her arms snaked around his neck and their kiss deepened with his large hands holding her thighs, both swallowing each other’s moans and letting their mouths do all the work. Bucky had never kissed or been kissed like that. Not even in the 40’s. It was the kind of kiss that was needed when words didn’t exist to convey the magnetizing pull they had on each other.  

Pulling their lips away to breathe they both caught each other’s eyes as Bucky lowered her to the bed. Nothing but hunger consumed them both, craving an intimacy they never knew was possible. Bucky took his time, the need for her to feel loved and safe superseding any of his animalistic desires. Trailing light passionate kisses all over her body getting lower and lower. She felt every kiss lighting her on fire. Growing wetter with each second, she reached her hand down to feel the long locks of his hair and arched her back as he kissed her clothed heat over her underwear. Immediately looking up to see if she hesitated in any way, he was met with her lustful but sincere smile. When he slipped off her underwear and began to work Y/N into a frenzy, he carefully slid his fingers in and began to move and curl them upwards like stroking a feather. She couldn’t help but let out a moan of such pleasure that Bucky had to remind himself to breathe for fear of combustion. Y/N leaned up to pull Bucky back to her lips by his jaw and began unbuttoning his shirt as his knees climbed either side of her legs. He yanked off his tie as she slipped off his blazer and unzipped his pants. With each kiss getting sloppier and deeper, he lowered her down again using his knee to part her legs and press himself against her as her hands splayed over his broad upper back. Y/N ripped open the foil she grabbed from her bedside drawer and began to roll a condom down his rock hard length. He looked up to her flushed face, the bleeding eyeliner making her brown eyes pop out even more with pupils so dilated he felt himself drowning. Consumed by Bucky’s darkened features, she couldn’t help but gasp as he eased into her. Immediately cupping her jaw he asked, “Is this okay?”. She kissed him in reply, with such fervour to make him feel how safe she felt, that the pair couldn’t help but roll their hips to meet each others setting a rhythm that felt like waves crashing against a shore. “Bucky I- “she moaned breathlessly as she arrived at the edge. “Let go, doll” he growled out as he felt her release around him and him the same. Coming down from their highs Bucky leaned over to her side feeling a satisfying exhaustion taking off the condom and tossing it in the trash can near the bed. He turned to look at her face, studying her side profile as her chest was still heaving and she swallowed hard. She met his eyes when she turned to face him and immediately a grin spread across her face not quite believing what had just occurred and how good he had made her feel. She let out a small giggle looking away, “What is it?” Bucky asked with a similar grin forming due to her amusement. “I just, I just can’t believe- “she began. “Neither can I” he reassured her knowing what she was about to say. He raised a hand to her cheek and softly stroked stray hairs away from her eyes, and in exhaustion they fluttered closed and she was asleep in minutes, the stress of the day melting away. He fell asleep too but woke after an hour, he looked at her bedside clock reading 4am. He scrubbed a hand over his face and got up as to not disturb the beauty lying next to him. He pulled the covers over her exposed shoulders as she nestled herself slightly more into the pillow and he swore he saw the corners of her mouth curl upwards slightly when he ghosted his lips over her forehead. He grabbed his blazer and shirt and padded softly out of her room. Worst case scenario he couldn’t risk her having to witness what his nightmares did to him but mostly couldn’t shake the doubt he had as to whether she would’ve wanted him around when she woke.

Chapter 2 

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[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 3

Hey so this is the best AU and also fight me if you disagree, I’ll PM you my address

Ao3 | Ripped Tag

“Astrid, come on, you know you could just come stay with me and Tuff until you figure this out,” Ruffnut perches on the arm of Astrid’s single chair, reaching out and threatening to close her laptop’s lid on the legal search that is going nowhere, “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.”  

“You don’t know why I’m being so stubborn about this?” Astrid scoffs, checking her phone again to see if her disappointingly useless landlord has texted back yet.  He said he’d talk to Hiccup, if that’s even his real name, but the lack of response doesn’t have her particularly hopeful. “Do you even know me?”  

“Yes, I do, and I’m still offering your type-A ass my couch, think about it.”  

“That’s not the point.  When I signed this lease, it was a statement.  I’m done with roommates, I can afford it, and I shouldn’t have to leave it just because there was some gruesome murder here and a bunch of tone deaf weirdos want to see it.”  As much as she threatened it, she doesn’t really want to go to the cops. She’s not someone who lets other people handle her problems, but the more she looks at local tenant laws, the more it seems like her only option if her landlord won’t get involved.  

The knock at the door doesn’t quite break her focus and she elbows Ruffnut in the leg, silently asking her to get it.  If it is her landlord, he can wait a minute, he wasn’t in a hurry so she might as well finish her thought.  

“So I’m just your butler now, or something, I get it.” Ruffnut sulks to the door, shaking her head.  

“Thanks, you’re the best.”  

The old door opens on creaky hinges that Astrid tries not to imagine it revealing a dark shadow with a sharp knife, because getting herself scared over a hundred year old murder isn’t going to help anything. Ruffnut pauses at the door for a second before looking back over her shoulder at Astrid, confused but delighted, like she couldn’t help but showing every time Hiccup stuck his foot further in his mouth on that stupid tour.  

“You didn’t have to get a stripper to thank me for dealing with your weird issues.”  Ruffnut laughs, “it’s like a Thursday.”  

“What?”  Astrid looks up, focus broken by the bizarre suggestion, and sees a fully uniformed police officer on the other side of her open front door.  “Ruff, no—”

“You think I’m a stripper?”  The cop smiles, surprisingly delighted by the comment, but Ruffnut hasn’t ever been one to stop while she’s ahead.  

“You’re way too pretty to be an actual cop,” she reaches out and grabs the badge on his chest, “that’s obviously not real.”  

It doesn’t detach.  Astrid jumps to her feet, rushing to the door to grab Ruff’s arm and pull it back.  

“My apologies, Sir, what can we do for you?” She puts on her most reasonable smile, hoping that if he’s here to help with her harassment issues in some way that Ruffnut didn’t just ruin it.  

“It’s fine,” he winks at Ruffnut, “I’m flattered, I’ve been working out.”  

“I’m assuming you didn’t come here for my friend,” Astrid turns the word into an insult as she pushes Ruffnut back a step, “to insult you.  Do you need something?”  

“Officer Jorgenson,” he holds his hand out and Astrid shakes it as he looks at Ruffnut, “you can call me Snotlout.”  

“Astrid Hofferson,” she makes the introduction, dropping his hand and pointing at Ruffnut.  “That’s Ruffnut, she doesn’t actually live here though.  I just moved in this week.”  

“Yes, I heard about that, can I come in?”  

“Yeah, sure,” Astrid steps out of the way and shuts the door behind him.  She’d offer him a place to sit, but she still only has the one chair and given Ruffnut’s behavior, she doesn’t exactly trust her friend to not make herself welcome on the officer’s lap.  

Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but she still elbows Ruffnut to remind her to at least pretend to be respectful.  

“Ok,” Officer Jorgenson deflates slightly, holding his arms out in front of himself, “so I’m not actually here on official business, so let the record show that you invited me in without actually receiving an official answer as to why—”

“Hey!”  Astrid takes a step towards the door and he doesn’t block her, but something in his apologetic expression is enough to make her pause.  “If it isn’t official, why the hell are you here?”  

“Because Hiccup Haddock is my cousin,” he sighs, “and he told me that someone moved into the apartment that he does his creepy tours to and that he really freaked you out—”

“I am not freaked out!”  

“She called me so scared her first night I thought she’d accidentally killed a guy or something,” Ruffnut snickers and Astrid smacks her on the arm.  

“And I just wanted to come let you know that he’s actually a really harmless weirdo and I talked to him about being creepy and he said that you said something about filing a harassment claim—”

“What?  If I did you’d throw it out for him?  No wonder he goes around shining lights into people’s apartments if he has a cop covering for him—”

“Look, Miss Hofferson—”

“Since this is so unofficial, Astrid is probably more appropriate, Snotlout.”  She spits his name, feeling impossibly more trapped than she did a minute ago.  If going to the cops isn’t even an option and her landlord still isn’t answering, she doesn’t know what’s left.  

“I’m a traffic cop, I don’t see harassment claims and if I did, I couldn’t do anything about them.  And maybe I should have ditched the uniform—”

“You still could,” Ruffnut adds, taking the only chair and playing her favorite role as audience to this nonsensical drama.  

Astrid is supposed to be finishing out her grad degree in peace.  She has a job at Berk’s archival library for God’s sake, she made every boring decision that she possibly could have.  

“Look, I get that he can be creepy, but I’m just asking you to trust me that he’s mortified.  And as his cousin, I think it’s hilarious how hot you are, because he’s awkward around hot girls when he’s not creeping them out, but I’m taking this seriously.”  

“Are you hitting on me?”  Astrid can’t help half raising her voice and Snotlout shakes his head.

“No, not at all, I’m just asking to give you my number—”

“Dude!” She’s not afraid of a murderer breaking in anymore, since she’s perilously close to unlocking her long sought after ability to shoot fire from her eyes.  

“So that if Hiccup keeps freaking you out, you will maybe consider telling me first before reporting him.  I’ll be the one to shut down his tax-evading weirdo tour, if I have to—”

“And he’s evading taxes, great, that really makes me feel like I should help him.”  

“I’m just asking you to consider it,” he takes a business card out of his chest pocket and crosses out the ‘Officer’, scribbling Snotlout in its place and writing another number on the back of it. “That’s my personal cell, if he doesn’t knock this shit off, let me know.”  

Astrid takes the card and stares at it silently, jaw working.  

“Just theoretically, could I use that personal number for things other than your cousin being creepy?”  Ruffnut asks and Astrid’s heart sinks.  

She gets what it’s like to love someone who can’t be trusted to act normal without reminding and suddenly the loneliness she’s felt since moving back, surrounded by drama and files and flailing, makes her want to trust Snotlout.  Or at least not add another person to the long list of people she distrusts.  

“I’ll think about it,” she pockets the card and nods.

“All I’m asking.”  He says goodbye then and leaves and Ruffnut pouts as Astrid gets ready to head to class.  

“You know, I was asking more, you could have let him answer.”  

“You’re a wreck.”  Astrid doesn’t add that it’s why they’re such good friends.  She hates it, but she’s feeling like a wreck too.  

She goes to class and tries not to think about it. Any of it.  She listens to Fishlegs wax poetic about applying the Dewey Decimal System to primary sources and she tries not to think about it.  She reluctantly responds to her landlord’s shamefully late response that he’s handling it with something like ‘it’s fine’, and she tries not to dread eight o’clock.  

It’s eight fifteen and her background music is loud enough that she almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door.  Fearing having to deal with another less than official visit from Officer Jorgenson, she turns the music off to get the door, startled for the second time today, this time by a teenager holding a large pizza box. The smell of cheese and pepperoni reminds her that she hasn’t eaten since breakfast and it’s lucky for her own record that she’s confused enough to stutter instead of just taking it.  

“I didn’t order pizza.”  

“324 Harbor street, apartment 2?”  The kid frowns at his receipt and then holds it out to her. “Oh, there’s a note.”  

The slip of paper has a sentence along the bottom in blocky register print: From someone who is not actually a dead prostitute hair fetishist, hoping to welcome you to the neighborhood in a more normal way.  No one delivers toothbrushes this last minute.

“I guess it’s for me,” she takes the box, tipping the kid for having to deal with this and being thankful that he doesn’t expect a stripper.  She’s just cracking the box open when she hears a voice in the courtyard, loud and nasal enough to reverberate in the closed pane.  She sneaks over, cracking it a careful inch open and bending down to listen.  

“Right there, in the second floor apartment, is where Elizabeth Smith died.  I used to point out the light fixture above the actual place where a fellow tenant found her body in the morning, but someone just moved in and um, they weren’t a fan of that as you can see by this lovely sign they made me.”  

Astrid winces at that.  It had been a momentary impulse to hang a piece of paper that says ‘Fuck Off Peeping Toms’ on the window last night, and she’d almost forgotten about it, especially with the lack of commentary in later tours.  Maybe it’s only legible when the streetlights are still on, and they go out around ten here.  

“But, they should be receiving an apology pizza right about now with an explanation that I am not personally a dead prostitute hair fetishist, I am only very interested in the actions of one Viggo Grimborn who might have been described with at least two of those adjectives.  Now, onto site two…”  

The pizza is delicious.  It helps that Astrid is so hungry and so righteously victorious that she made a crazy person believe her anger was deserved, but she puts the page of coupons on her fridge with a magnet she stole from her last roommate after the whole dishes debacle.  That was petty of her, wasn’t it?  Petty like the sign in the window.  

Then again, when she put the sign in the window, she didn’t have any reason to believe that Hiccup felt any kind of remorse, but she does now.  

Getting her a pizza was a pretty decent thing to do, and Snotlout did say, repeatedly, that he’s a harmless weirdo.  Maybe that’s where she’s stuck.  She’s a criminology major, she knows all about harmful weirdos. She knows how malice lets people break social barriers and commit to dangerous behaviors.  She understands that people go on killing sprees and mutilate their victims, but she doesn’t understand the locations where they did so becoming landmarks.  

It was easy to believe Hiccup was malicious, but now that all signs are pointing to him being odd and awkward and obsessive, she can’t help the bubble of curiosity in her chest.  He’s in her courtyard three times a night, always followed by a gaggle of interested people.  There was that guy in the tour she ended up crashing referencing a beat up book and asking a million questions.  More than that, Hiccup had strong opinions about those questions, shutting them down with markedly flat green eyes that lit up whenever he talked about walls and letters and slums.  

She cracks the window leading up to the second tour. She’s not sure why, maybe it’s to see if he mentions the pizza again or the sign or if he’ll say that he thinks he got one over her.  But it’s the same as the last tour, if a bit quieter, the group around him a little more involved.  

“The apartment is occupied now, but it was approximately under the living room light fixture, which used to be the hallway in front of the door before a series of modernizing renovations in the nineteen eighties, that a fellow tenant found Elizabeth Smith’s body in the early hours of the morning.”  

That’s a relief.  No murderer came through her front door to kill anyone, apparently, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, shivering at a gust of winter breeze through the blinds.  The sign she made flaps and she almost reaches out to pull it down.  

“Now, we’ll move to site two next, where two weeks after the discovery of Elizabeth Smith, a night guardsman found the body of Caroline Pike murdered in a similar fashion.”  

Astrid peeks outside and sees a couple of girls a few years younger than herself clinging to each other like they’re watching a live action horror movie proceed and giggling, holding onto Hiccup’s every word. There’s a woman taking notes and a few dark, shivering forms made faceless by the angle of the light, leaning into the story.  And Hiccup’s stupid toothpaste stained top hat bobbling slowly towards the gate as he draws them along behind him, the pied piper of murder-obsessed tourists.  

She throws open the window and leans out, tossing the blinds over her head, onto her back, “hey!”  

“Did you get the pizza?”  He whisper-shouts back up at her and she sighs, reaching through the window to pull her sign down.  He tries to catch it when she crumples it into a ball and throws it at him, but it bounces off of his chest and lands in the snow.  

“Who did it?”  

“I did,” he laughs, awkward, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was the one coming out as not a prostitute hair fetishist, if that wasn’t clear.”  

“No, I mean who was Viggo Grimborn?  Who killed those women?”  She leans her elbows on the windowsill, “I’ve heard this part of the tour about half a dozen times now, spoil the end for me.  Who did it?”  

“Oh, no one knows.”  He shrugs.  

“I get that it’s unsolved,” she shivers, rubbing her bare arms and trying not to feel the tour group’s eyes taking her in as part of the spectacle she didn’t sign up for.  “But there has to be an answer.”  

“There really isn’t, the crimes were committed before fingerprinting, witnesses were unreliable, police were understaffed.” He remembers to direct the last phrase at the group and he must know that his cousin came to talk to her.  “Not that much has changed.”  

“Yeah, nothing much has changed and we still solve things.”  She doesn’t know why she’s pushing.  Maybe it’s because she understands being crazy for a reason, for a conclusion, for something solid, and she has to believe that applies here.  “So no one even has a theory?”  

“Everyone has a theory,” he laughs, the same tired, dismissive laugh he gave the guy with the book full of wrong answers, “that doesn’t mean anyone has an answer.”  

She grits her teeth.  It shouldn’t be this hard to get a clear answer out of someone and when it is, she should give up, but she’s never been good at that and she keeps pushing.

“Ok, do you have a theory?  You’re out here shining laser pointers into people’s apartments and droning on and on about the guy every night.  You must have a theory.”  

“I don’t,” he laughs, “I like the mystery.”  He waves at her like that was an actual answer and she’s furious as well as cold when she shuts her window and looks around her sparse apartment.  

Harmless is just a synonym for useless, apparently.  

She catches herself looking up Viggo Grimborn at work three times the next day before Fishlegs is the one to notice, glancing at her screen over her shoulder and tutting.  She closes the window faster than if she’d been caught ordering deviously sourced hair and spins to face him, arms crossed.  

“What?”  

“I thought you said you weren’t one of those…Grimborn-ologists,” he shakes his head and she sighs, teeth gritting together.  

“I’m not.”  

“You’re researching Viggo Grimborn at work.”  

“Yes,” she swallows hard.  She doesn’t like mixing work and personal drama.  More than that she doesn’t like having drama, but the more she thinks about it, there’s only one way to fix this and the chances of keeping it quiet under Fishlegs’s eagle eyes are impossibly small.  “Apparently my apartment was really cheap because it’s where the first Grimborn murder took place.”  

“Oh,” he frowns, “how’d you learn that?”  

“Well, to be honest, there’s a tour that comes by three times a night to point out my living room light fixture.”  She doesn’t expect to laugh, and more than that she doesn’t expect Fishlegs to follow, a wheezy little chuckle falling out of his mouth. He’s out of practice and it makes her a little more comfortable being so righteously irritated about the entire situation.  

“I can see how that might spark your curiosity.”  

She bites her lip, thinking for a second before speaking, “so, you get a lot of people coming in here about it, don’t you?”  

“Every other person, at a minimum,” he sits down at his desk across from hers and starts sorting through the box of papers he’d been carrying, “it doesn’t matter that we have the most Civil War maritime shipping manifestos of any library in the world.  All anyone cares about is Viggo Grimborn.”  

“I didn’t know the case wasn’t solved,” she adds carefully, reopening her search and skimming through names that are starting to sound familiar.  Experts and suspects and victims, all carrying equal heft in a conversation that should be about one more than others.  “Is that why it’s such a thing?”  

“While I won’t claim to be a Grimborn expert,” he looks up, a bit sheepish, confident in a way that’s been called arrogant so many times he tried and failed to dial it back in the shy direction, “I’ve spent long enough trying to figure out why it’s so captivating that if there was an answer, I would have found it by now.”  

“I’ve been thinking,” she looks around at the stacks of dense, shapeless information around them.  Newspapers and journals and notebooks.  Files and files of receipts and notes and pieces of paper that people stored away in awkward places or forgot about entirely.  “Maybe it’s the mystery.  Maybe that’s why some guy is leading tours to my apartment complex courtyard every night, and if it wasn’t a mystery anymore…”

“Astrid,” Fishlegs laughs, comfortable with her name when he’s telling her what he feels is an indisputable truth instead of telling her what to do, “hundreds, if not thousands of people have tried to solve the Grimborn murders.  There are dozens of books published, forcing the facts in order—”

“Hear me out,” she feels like Snotlout must have, asking her not to call the cops, “all of those people have wanted to be right more than they’ve wanted this ridiculous thing to end.  You want people to appreciate this collection and I want my apartment to be off of the must-see locations list at the Berk tourism center.”

“Again, if detectives within hours of the crime couldn’t solve the case, what makes you think you can?”  

She smiles, looking admiringly at the collection, “you know, none of those detectives had yourhelp.  There’s a reason I chose the records collection as my work-study.  I knew there was a lot I could learn here.”  

“Are you appealing to my vanity?”  Fishlegs asks like someone who denies having any vanity at all.  Astrid forces her smile brighter.  “We’ll have to be systematic about this, and quiet, I’ve been fending off requests for years to start a Grimborn-ology research group here.  I’ll start with the Gazette, you can take the Berk Enquirer, it’s notable for being on the forefront of alien conspiracy theories, but I can’t deal with those again.”  

The Berk Enquirer is a trove of theories, but Fishlegs finds a conclusive narrative in the Gazette.  The order of murders, the detectives researching them, and the letters sent to the press are all soon settled into a rough narrative that they stick to, testing out suspects and looking for more.  Astrid largely ignores the tours outside her apartment at night, hearing the same few snippets on rotation until it becomes like an alarm, the third tour serving as her reminder to go to bed before the next day.  

After about a week of research, Fishlegs finds a journal written by a prominent free mason at the time of the murders, questioning someone who recently failed to ascend into the order.  She means to keep it a secret, but Hiccup is outside, talking about mystery and she opens her bedroom window this time, leaning out to interrupt him.

“What about the masonic connection?”  She shouts down and he does a double take before signaling that the group pause.  

“Referring to the mutilation of the second and fourth victims?”  He takes his hat off and scratches his head before putting it back on, slightly crooked.

“Yeah.”  

“Doesn’t explain how Richard Miller could have committed the third murder in March eighteen eighty four, since he was in Paris and all.”  

“How’d you know I was talking about Richard Miller?” She never expected him to know the name and can’t help but feel halfway dismissed.  

“Who else had openly decried the masons?”  He smiles and points towards the gate, “now, onto site two.”  

“Hold on, how do you know he was in Paris?”  

“Records from the cargo ship Thebes that frequently made the Berk to Normandy route in the eighteen eighties, he travelled with a family load of wool cargo.”  He leaves before she can ask more about it and she spends the next day grumbling under her breath while asking Fishlegs for every eighteen-eighty dated cargo record out of Berk.  

“You’re getting too hung up on what one of these crazies said,” Fishlegs cautions her around five, “that’s the point, their facts don’t line up and they use it to frustrate you.”  

“Maybe you’re right,” she sighs, deciding to put the shipping manifestos away, “he just wants me to be wrong though, anything for the mystery.”  

“Then we find something conclusive.”  Fishlegs doesn’t dismiss the comment and she resolves to find the right window to thank him.  

The next week, Hiccup shuts down three full days of Drago Bludvist research with the fact that Drago couldn’t have committed the murders because his single arm would have forced him to find a surface to brace against, and the fourth murder was functionally in the middle of an alley. Hiccup deftly cuts across what Astrid thought was a decent supposition that the deputy detective Ryker had something to do with it, because Ryker was filling out an arrest report in the adjoining city of Freezing to Death at the time of the third murder.  

Worst of all, Astrid gets the feeling that he’s enjoying this.  He pauses his tour a moment too long, waiting for her to retort one night when he dismisses the Bludvist theory in the courtyard, even though it doesn’t make sense to bring up around the site of the first event.  She disproved it on her own after mentioning it to him, finding a manifesto stating he was on his way to Bucharest from Berlin on the date of the fourth murder, but Hiccup probably already knows that.  

Three weeks in, she asks him about the plausible connection between Grimborn and the travelling bible salesman Johann, who was selling in Berk at the time of all known Grimborn murders, and he shrugs, citing the same lack of evidence that frustrated her at work.  

“Is it still three times a night?”  Fishlegs asks at work, handing Astrid an aptly dated newspaper.

“As far as I know,” she shrugs, “I’ve been here late enough to miss the first tour a few times a week.  He’s respecting the blinds though.”  

“You could drop it, then.”  He suggests and she can tell he hopes she’ll do it only so he can have an excuse to do the same.  

Astrid is a lot of things.  Stubborn, hard-headed, and independent, sure, but a reason to quit just doesn’t fit.  

“So could you,” she challenges, pulling out a new box of Berk Enquirers.  Between theories about dragons disemboweling people on the streets of downtown Berk, there are actually some decently reported witness accounts.  Even if the witnesses aren’t necessarily sober, they’re earnest.  Lights in the sky could mean someone running across the rooftops.  They could mean…something.  

A fact she’s trying to pull from thin air to keep Hiccup from showing up under her windowsill every night.  

It’s early when she finds it, early because she couldn’t take multiple tours to her apartment on a Friday night.  A note scribbled in pencil on the back of a Berk Enquirer dated eleventh of November eighteen eighty four. She shows it to Fishlegs, who has an analogous report from the Gazette, and it’s not an answer, but maybe it’s enough.  

Enough to confront Hiccup in person, instead of sitting in her apartment, thinking about fixing this or ending it or she doesn’t even know.  She assembles her sources, the pictures of the notes she found and the dates of the papers on which they were written and then she waits.  

#modern au #httyd fic #hiccstrid au #hiccstrid #serial killer tour guide au #httyd fanfic #ripped

[jencsi]

Ours

He couldn't remember how it happened but one day he looked up and her stuff was all over his house. Most guys would start to get nervous about the woman in their life moving in but he didn't. He loved it. He loved finding her clothes in his closet and in the laundry. He smirked whenever he saw her baseball and tennis gear sticking out from under the bed or propped up in the corner by the door. The sweetest thing he witnessed was the time she accidentally dropped a large stuffed bear from her travel bag onto the floor of the bedroom when she was unpacking something. When he inquired about it, she blushed and tried to stuff it back in to the bag, muttering about having it since she was a kid and how it was stupid to bring it along but she loved it and couldn't part with it. He smiled; reassured her that she could bring whatever she wanted and told her to put the bear anywhere she liked. Next time he saw it, she had propped it up on the pillows on the bed like it had always been there. Her stuff accumulating in his home made the place feel cozier and made him feel like they were really a family. Then one night he worked up the nerve to formally ask her. They had a nice dinner after work, watched a cheesy movie then went up to bed.

She was already under the covers, reading her latest book when he crawled on top of her and peeked around the top of the book so she could see his goofy smile.

"What?" she giggled, loving his playfulness.

"I have something for you," he said holding up a tiny white cardboard box.

Her heart pounded nervously in her chest, dreading that this could somehow be possible proposal that she wasn't ready for and had told him so many times. She set the book down, marking her page with the slip of paper off the nightstand, gently took the box from him and opened it.

To her surprise and relief, inside there was a gold key on a chain linked to a small round metal charm of a casino chip.

"What's this?" she asked unsure.

"That is a key to this place," Nick explained "I want you to have it and-"

He paused, slowing down to choose his words carefully.

"Move in with me," he said boldly.

She stared at him, shocked but not completely surprised.

"Are you sure?" she stammered the first words she could think of.

"Of course I'm sure," he said "you practically live here already."

He nodded at her clothes hanging in the open closet, the stuffed bear on the pillow beside her, and the baseball uniform in the laundry basket near the door.

"I didn't mean to," she blurted out, feeling like she had overcrowded him "if it's too much stuff I can take it back to my place."

"What? No." he said horrified at the thought but she was already squirming under the covers, anxious to get out of the bed and away from him. She jumped out of bed and started to gather up all the things that had accumulated on the floor, in the corner and on the nightstand.

He sighed, hating that she was reacting this way to what was supposed to be a nice gesture. He followed her as she maneuvered around the room, gathering up her things and trying to carry them all at once but couldn't hold everything and was dropping several items onto the floor. She snarled in frustration as he went to her and said "Babe come on, stop it, you don't have to do that."

"Yes I do," she snapped stubbornly at him "it's my mess."

"It's not a mess," he assured her "just stop and listen to me for a second."

He stepped in front of her as she was heading towards the door with her clothes and random items spilling out of her arms.

"I love this stuff," he said gently prying the pile from her hands and dropping it onto the small arm chair that sat in the corner of his room "more importantly I love you, I want you here, that's all I was trying to tell you."

She met his gaze at last, knowing he was sincere and hating her own insecurities for making her think negatively.

"Really?" she asked swaying tentatively.

"Yes," he said stepping closer to kiss her forehead, relieved that she was calming down.

She didn't have time to think of what to say to tell him sorry for overacting because he was scooping her up in his arms, making her squeal in delight, then carrying her back to the bed. He set her down gently on it then presented her with the box and key again and that goofy pout that melted her heart.

"Yes," she said giggling "yes I will move in with you."

Her laughter echoed through the entire room as he hugged her, happy that she had agreed and excited for what this meant for them.

Two Weeks Later

It didn't take long for her officially move in, ending her lease on her condo and boxing up what remained of her belongings. They spent a long weekend together unpacking her things and setting them up in the house however she wanted to make this house the best of both of them. Soon they fell into a routine of going to work, coming home, making meals together or alone if their shifts ended at different times, setting aside time to relax and cuddle, watch football on TV and just enjoy each others company.

He was late one day which annoyed her but didn't overly concern her. She made dinner and was rinsing a few dishes in the sink when she heard him come in the front door.

"Jules?" he called for her.

"Kitchen," she called back letting him know where she was.

A funny clicking sound made her turn around and see Nick holding on to a leash that was hooked to the collar of a large German Shepherd.

"You got me a dog!?" she exclaimed happily upon seeing him.

Nick smiled at her happiness and said "Yeah I guess I did."

The dog bounded right up to her when Nick unhooked the leash. Julie dropped to her knees on the floor and held her arms out to the dog who started sniffing around her.

"He's adorable," she gushed "where did you find him?"

"A case," Nick said "Officer Nelson was killed in the line of duty and this dog was his partner, he needed a home so I decided to take him."

"That is so incredibly sweet of you," Julie said petting the dog gently. "What's his name?"

"Sam," Nick told her.

"Hi Sam," Julie said as the dog circled her, sniffing at her clothes and her hair before promptly knocking her over with one bump of his shoulder against her.

"Easy," Nick warned Sam but Julie laughed as Sam kept sniffing around her face, his fur tickling, making her laugh harder.

"Come on," Nick said ushering Sam away from Julie so she could sit up but unable to hide his smile at their bonding moment.

"I love him!" Julie gushed ruffling Sam's ears "let's take him outside to play."

Julie's energy level was equal to Sam's and the three of them played wildly in the grass, tossing a tennis ball back and forth to Sam for a good hour before finally settling down on the patio. Julie sat cross legged on the ground letting Sam rest beside her. Nick noticed how calm Sam was when Julie was petting him and how Sam nuzzled right up to her. She was immersed in petting him and whispering to him softly.

"He's so cute," she gushed over him "and he's all ours."

"Ours," he thought loving how nice that word sounded from both of them, of how wonderful their life was becoming and how when Julie ruffled Sam's ears again, he lifted his head to sniff at her face again making her dissolve into giggles once more.

#fanfiction #csi cbs #nick stokes #julie finlay #this is an old one of mine #but I wanted to re-post it #ours #sam the dog #fluff ahoy

[anotherfandomok]

Interactive Introverts Richmond Summary! (Part 1 bc rambling)

Ok. My experience and a general summary. I'm gonna do my best I couldn't believe it was happening, before, after, or during it, and now I can't believe it happened. So.

I didn't get ready way too early this time! I loved my outfit it was so cute, and I drew whiskers on my wrist and my cousin did too :). I went over to my cousin's, and my aunt drove us to my uncle's office in Richmond. He took us to II it was so awesome of him. I was flipping out.

We got there and took pics with the signs and stuff I was vibrating and bouncing and shit I was so excited. We lined up and got in doors opened at six and it was a lot of little short lines so we got in really quickly. Immediately I wanted to go downstairs for merch.

We got in the merch line and like really like ahead in the line I was so proud of getting there so fast.

And I saw the like stand up thing background for the m&g?????? So I was like um wtf are they actually right there like thirty feet away from me? So I was watching it and had my phone ready to video. I SAW PHIL LESTER WITH MY OWN EYES LEAN FORWARD AND HUG SOMEONE. y'all you don't understand his hair is SO. BLACK. like it actually shocked me how black it was I guess it doesn't translate.

But anyway they had the last few people do the m&g, and then they left and Dan waved really quick and we all cheered and I GOT A VIDEO OF THEM AKFNDJSFBWJD.

Also, fan project tonight super cute just a pic of Virginia that said "VA LOVES YOU" I didn't know about it until I got there, but someone handed me a stack and asked me to pass them out and I was like um hell yes so I did that.

Anyway, we moved forward in the merch line and yo the line got so long I was so happy we went straight there omg. The merch setup was like really good! Very efficient they had a long table and everything up with prices and stuff it was so well set up and the guy who helped me was super nice.

I got both short sleeved shirts and the long sleeved shirt, as well as a hat and a poster, and my cousin got the hoodie, a poster, and the marble shirt. Cute as hell! It went really smoothly and quickly it was awesome and we just got right through.

We went to the bathroom and it had a lil ledge so we folded and organized our stuff and then went to the bathroom. Tbh the bathrooms there were REALLY nice, and not crowded at all when I went! The theatre itself was so nice you guys like I can't even believe how nice it was it was so fancy like pretty carpeted soft stairs and everything was so ornate and detailed and pretty. Just omg.

Anyway! Then we went and stood by the front doors for a bit and I handed out signs (if you saw me in the lacy white shirt and black shorts with short blond hair aye!). We sat in balconey D, so we went up (a LOT of stairs) and found our seats!

Seriously I can't overstate how gorgeous and amazing this theatre was so fancy with super soft seats and good room like it was so pretty and it had a ton of like Egyptian stuff on the walls omg it was so cool. Y'all. The set was GORGEOUS. Like the lights and the background and just. Wow. I felt so close even though we were the highest up, because everything was very stacked. We really weren't that far away even though we were towards the back like I could see the stage really well.

The set is so gorgeous wow. And I just jammed to all the songs on the preshow playlist it was so amazing I couldn't believe it was real.

Also Dan's Siri came on like twice and was like hi there's really nice merch downstairs and Dan left me to look at memes and stuff, and told us not to film bc iPads are bad lmao. (I filmed anyway don't arrest me).

Everyone FLIPPED SHIT when Welcome To The Black Parade came on oh my god it was so loud and amazing. The lights dimmed and off we went.

They opened with the really adorable video being projected omg my heart and then they rode in dramatically with their steam and everyone LOST THEIR SHIT it was amazing the crowd was so loud all night.

Phil read the Richmond Wikipedia page apparently (wow, nerd) lmao and talked about the rat basketball team. They literally mentioned the rat basketball team like at least six times throughout the show tonight y'all I'm.

Dan said shooketh at something at the beginning and I don't remember what it was but like djfndjsdbrb. Also he did the Naruto run the first time he ran off stage, and we all sCREAMED.

They did a smol duet of A Whole New World which I now know was inspired by the venue - it was so great though and Dan was like that's not what you want trust me it would start off good but it would quickly become horrible. It sounded really good though like I love them they should sing more.

I hadn't seen any spoilers about the beginning! They talked about what an introvert is and asked the introverts and extroverts in the room to cheer sjfbwjsj.

Dan had a six second challenge to pretend to be a llama sitnfndntkejr he pranced and did a noise we all DIED and then he was like "-NO!" it was hilarious sjfndjsnebd.

The segment about what they weren't gonna do had me shook I nearly died. "Please be gentle with the handcuffs; I have sensitive skin" IM DEAD.

Also when they went to walk up and pretend to strip and then they RIPPED OFF THEIR SHIRTS TO REVEAL IDENTICAL SHIRTS UNDERNEATH YOURE FUCKING KIDDING ME WHAT THE FUCK.

We were all really sad about the puppies so Phil said we'd get to see more puppies later in the show and we all screamed and Dan said if you're gonna promise puppies you better follow through.

When they offered to let people touch their hair I was like sjgbdjdbdjabfsn. Pastel personas skgbsjfkekfje??? They put on flower crowns and brought stuffed animals up to the front of the stage wow my heart.

They were like we're not gonna bring up a whole bunch of other YouTubers - because we have no friends and no one replied to our messages.

I can't remember for shit, but the whole beginning segment was just amazing. When they finished talking about how the show was interactive they were like "so that's why now we're going to make one of you stand up at random!!!!!!!" And they shined all the lights up and for a second it was chaos and then they were like kidding kidding we're just kidding and Phil was like your faces were priceless and Dan was like okay you can tell who the introverts and extroverts are the introverts are like crawling into a ball in their seats like "DONT PICK ME" I've never seen 3000 people curl up into a ball before. It was terrifying but also amazing!

Truth bombs! Honestly, I thought they were gonna do all the ones from the website, but they only did one each.

Phil's torture confession would be being bathed in cheese (Dan talked about if that included scrubbing, or if it included scrubbing under flaps y'all I was so done oh my god), but other options were mouth noises in headphones in his ears (to which Dan then did HORRIBLE and horribly loud mouth noises into his mic oh my god it was the worst thing my ears have ever heard ajtbcjejgsj *vomits* he said "not the asmr you came to hear, sorry") and ??? (Help I forgot)

Dan dreams about Nick Jonas in a fursuit at night ("the two things I lease wanted to hear right now, combined), but other options were a dark abyss ("no that's what I see when I look in the mirror") and a one direction reunion.

They would die from "Bees?" But other options were Dan falling out of the gaming chair and taking Phil down with him, and burning down the flat after setting a fire during a baking video gone horribly wrong (both of the runner ups they said were extremely realistic and plausible and they were like are you guys surprised we aren't dead yet we were all like yah). Dan was like where are the bees going to come from???? THAT FLAP keep you eyes on it.

We're real people with free will so you can't just make us do whatever you want, BUT we have made a simulation with a tiny Dan and Phil where you choose what they would do in completely normal, everyday situations that we experience in real life. Remember, tiny Dan and Phil still have emotions and can feel shame and guilt, so this is our test to see if you are responsible enough to be in control during this show - please do what you would actually want us to do if you were controlling us in real life.

Simulation! They have been working on this since they were FETUSES. Not babies, fetuses they were up in their mom's bellies with laptops editing this, and they spent billions of pounds and thousands of Richmond dollars (idk why they said Richmond dollars so many times during the show but sjtbsjdjd it was cute) on it.

Phil first he went to Barstucks (the simulations didn't want to get sued) and got a unicorn death frappe, with lots of sugar so he was vibrating, and he accidentally tweeted a picture of him in his underwear. Shirtless Satan appears and we all cheered for Satan they were concerned and Phil sold his soul to Satan to take the pic down bc he dropped his phone in his drink lmao. SATAN TAKES HIM TO HELL AND THERES DEMON DAN AND HE HAS A POTATO AND HE POTATO PRESSES PHIL TO DEATH FOR ETERNITY. then Phil was like "I still remember the feeling of a wet potato being pressed to my back" I was like sjbsjsjdsj ew.

Dan talked to the furry in the park and went to a furry rave (didn't show him the good Shiba Inu memes he had) and did body shots off of an otter and entered the ladydoor and slipped on the floor and died in his slothbear fursuit. Lmao rip (I'd already heard that ending though). Dan said the show was officially demonitized, and also said "there was an attempt" after people cheered for the good option lmao.

At the end they were like what a waste of all our billions of dollars and all the time spent editing as fetuses.

At the end of the simulation Phil talked about it being like a mob mentality and Dan compared it to fandoms and how if you like something and everyone else seems to have the same reason for liking it or whatever, the people who it especially means some thing to, their voices can get lost. And that's what this show is all about giving the people what they want and getting all the voices and stuff. Fandoms are often seen as one collective unit but you can't expect them all to want the same thing because they're all made up of very different individuals. Etc. It was good.

Our collective name was Kevin. We did a coordinated clap ("the asmr you do want to hear") it was the coolest fucking thing ever ajrnejfnej to build the hive mind. Then we chose a breed of dog for them to get "they just want us to get a dog Phil that's all they want" and Phil led it he was like I think I can get everyone to think the same thing, and we chose Fluffy the very terrifying Chihuahua it was so cool how they did it and that was the one I got so yay! They asked who didn't get fluffy and then they were like "that's okay that just means you aren't part of Kevin... YET." And then they just kept saying how we needed to get inside Kevin and stuff it was like okay wow.

Then we had the WHATS UNDER DANS BED. First of all that box is fucking hilarious, and I think Dan mentioned Phil just wanting an excuse to use props lmao. They explained it and then Phil brought out the audience participation balls "Phil has three balls." Okay. But they really emphasized how if you didn't want it you could just throw it to someone who did like they were so nice and understanding about it and when the music stopped Phil asked and made sure everyone who had one wanted it :). Also they were like keep the answers like amazingphil channel okay keep it PG. But it was actually a really cool concept and the lights went rainbow when they were throwing them around, which I LOVED! The three answers were an anthill but the ants are tiny dogs, a fursuit made of maltesers, and "I think he's trolling us and it's empty"/nothing. Y'all Phil was like has anyone seen a key under their seat and Dan was like wait what are we talking about wait no no I have the key akfnfjejd. They opened it, got the silver tube, opened that and got the scroll, and then they were like this has been in the tube in the locked box on the stage the whole time how could it possibly say what three random members of the audience said, and then they SLOWLY UNROLLED IT AND IT SAID TINY DOG ANTHILL, FURSUIT, AND NOTHING YALL I WAS SHOOK OUT OF MY MIND LIKE THE ONLY THING THAT COULD HAVE MADE THE SHOW WAS MAGIC AND THEY JUST DID THAT OH MY GOD. I'm still shook about it.

Then Phil took the banner and tore it up into like three or four big pieces and was like okay guys tear it up and pass it around tear and share I was so shook I was like oh my god I want a piece of that banner but obviously I was balconey, so they were ripping off pieces and passing it around and Dan and Phil were like omg it's like the walking dead down there "oh my gosh... That is.. violent." I was so shook that they did that like that was so nice and good like snejdbdabfbo.

Survey! Dan dabbed when he said statistics and Phil was like don't dab to statistics and Dan dabbed again and was like math *dab* there was so much unnecessary dabbing it was wow. Phil likes to use props and costumes so the brought out the glasses and clipboards YALL THEM IN GLASSES IN REAL LIFE 😭. Phil read the options for the audience participation one really dramatically and Dan was like "Phil wrote all the answers to these questions obviously" to which Phil replied "I wanted to make them spicy." 68% like audience participation, sixty some feel like they really know Dan and Phil (8% said who are Dan and Phil and Dan was like where do you think you are Shrek the musical? It was so good. I think Phil said maybe that's the parents. Incredible.) (Unnecessary third option bc Phil wanted to see what would happen - it used the middle screen) 40% like the sims the best, but pinof had 36%. Ditl had 16%, and baking and crafts both had four. They ROASTED the four percent who love crafts lmao it was great. (They spent the whole tour budget on the pie chart for the video series lmao it was FANCY) Sixty percent of people whlant Dan and Phil to give the people what Dan and Phil want, so I was really proud of us and Dan seemed surprised and happy about it he said Augusta was like ninty percent what the people want lmao.

ONE FINAL QUESTION WE ASKED YOU DAN OR PHIL BUT THATS TOO EASY NO WE ASKED YOU WHO WOULD YOU SACRIFICE BUT DAN NO ONES REALLY GOING TO BE SACRIFICED RIGHT THIS IS JUST A QUESTION ON A SURVEY IN A STAGE SHOW "I CAN SAY WHATEVER I WANT ABOUT DAN AND PHIL THERE ARE NO CONSEQUENCES... RIGHT?"

SUPER DRAMATIC SACRIFICE DAN OR PHIL "YOU MIGHT SAY I CANT CHOOSE TOO BAD THE WORLD IS FULL OF HARD DECISIONS ONE OF US WILL BE STRAPPED TO THIS WHEEL" PHIL SAID "ONE OF US IS GOING TO BE PUT IN MORTAL DANGER RIGHT NOW" AND THEN THEY BOTH JUMPED ONTO THE PLATFORM WITH THE WHEEL AND RODE IT BACKWARDS AND THEN INTERMISSION HOLY FUCKING SHIT THEYRE SO DRAMATIC AND EXTRA OH MY GOD IT WAS INCREDIBLE.

I'm forgetting so much but I'm gonna do this in two parts. Intermission seemed to come so quickly! It was at almost eight forty. Intermission was cool I stood up and stretched my legs bc as soon as I sat down my left leg fell asleep and it's still fucked up the. Some more jams though, and the last song they play was The Final Countdown lmao.

Quick note they are both so beautiful ??? Like?? I couldn't stop staring at their fucking legs oh my god and Dan's knees with his ripped jeans help. Also, I was mesmerised by the way Phil walks? And the way he runs and skips and does little jumps and shit? Like it's actually really graceful his legs are So Long and I'm just obsessed with watching him walk around omg. In summary - Legs ™

Edit: I totally forgot about the airhorn during Truth Bombs ajgbfjrnfsiej it was WILD Phil kept playing with it and pressing buttons to make noises before we even started doing Dan's, and Dan was like omg stop but we were all cheering because obviously it was amazing and Dan was like don't cheer when he does that you're encouraging him and we just cheered louder. (Phil also stroked the airhorn remote - the number of times some variation of the word stroke was said tonight..... So much)

At some point during the beginning they talked about why everyone loves the sims bc you can make people and make them do whatever you want and Phil was like like put a hundred sims in a swimming pool and remove the ladders and watch them drown slowly and I used to do that a lot as a kid does that say something and Dan was like that would explain a lot actually (I swear to God he said that phrase about Phil like three or four times throughout the show like wow). And Phil was like you could also make them woohoo with a skeleton or an alien and HE THRUSTED TO EMPHASIZE HIS POINT I WAS LIKE JESUS FUCK STOP PLEASE.

#richmond ii #interactive introverts #dan and phil #dnp #ii #ii spoilers #interactive introverts spoilers #dan howell #amazingphil #july 12th 2018 #altria theater #future #probably edit this