anyone remember this from the kitchen

The Things They Remembered

This is either an oddly written one shot fic or an unnaturally verbose set of headcanons or somehow both. I don’t know, I just have a lot of feelings and they wound up here.


           Sometimes they saw memories in the corners of their minds.


           The days after Mookie’s birth were as close as Merle and Hekuba ever got to happiness together. Merle spent long hours of peace and quiet between them sitting with Mookie, coaxing him to sleep, rocking him gently. He found himself almost unconsciously humming a song, which after a moment he remembered as one of the few Pan hymns he’d actually liked growing up in the commune. Mavis, a tottering, curious five-year-old, was peeking over his lap, watching Mookie with wide eyes. She started humming along, and then singing, but words were all wrong. When Merle tried to correct her, they nearly woke Mookie back up with their escalating argument. Hekuba snatched Mookie from Merle’s arms and hissed at him about how pointless this argument was. Besides, she said, Mavis was right anyway.

           If not for the sleeping baby, there would probably have been a row right then and there. As it was, Merle swallowed his pride, and nobody ever brought it back up. However, on the day Merle left to “buy a pack of smokes,” he sang the song loudly to himself as he walked away. He paused along the road, staring intently at a large patch of fungi eating away at a tree, still singing under his breath.

           “And when the night gets dark

           You know the moon still shines

           Soon you’ll hear the morning lark

           Sittin’ on Pan’s green vines.

           He paused, surprised to feel a tear slide down his cheek. He tore his eyes away from the mushrooms. If he got away from Hekuba unchallenged, he ought to offer Pan a prayer of thanks, he mused. It had been too long since he’d really prayed.


           Taako didn’t understand why he always expected Sazed to have a different face. It was the most disorienting thing: they’d fall into a quiet rhythm, testing out a recipe for a future show, Taako sautéing vegetables while Sazed chopped up beef behind him. The calm and the familiarity of a happy kitchen would wash over them with the stinging scent of fresh-chopped onion until a gently contented smile stretched Taako’s cheeks. Then Sazed would tap him on the shoulder, wanting to consult him on how best to cut this piece off the bone, and Taako would turn to face him, and Sazed’s face would startle him. Once, when they’d been prepping a particularly elaborate dish for two hours straight without talking, turning around to see Sazed had made him jump so badly he dropped a knife and nearly sliced his own toes off.

           He couldn’t have explained whose face he expected to see, or even if he was expecting anyone at all. All he knew was that, in those quiet moments, when he settled into the heartbeat of the kitchen, Sazed always seemed wrong or out of place. Once he nearly forgot his name, even after they’d been together for three years. He opened his mouth to ask him to pass the salt, and for a few seconds, a different name sat on the tip of his tongue, just out of his reach. He had to close his mouth, rub the sweat away from his forehead with his sleeve, and then remembered Sazed’s name with a start. He called out imperiously, burying his momentary confusion out of sight.


           Julia’s friend Rachel came barreling into the Hammer & Tongs one morning, looking haggard. Magnus, whittling away the final touches on a table, looked up in surprise.


           “Julia’s not here,” he said. “She and Steven went down to visit—”

           “Magnus, do you know anything about coaching?” Rachel asked. Magnus set down his knife.

           “Um, not really?” Rachel ran a hand through her hair, fingers catching on her tight curls.

           “Lucas took a nasty fall and fractured his leg. He’ll be laid up for a few weeks, or until we can get a healer passing through to come fix it up. But that—”

           “Leaves the kids’ kickball team without a coach,” Magnus finished for her. He stood up, dusting woodchips off his pants. “Don’t even worry about it,” he said. “I am here for you.” Rachel danced from foot to foot, looking anxious.

           “Are you sure?” she asked. “I really came looking for Julia—”

           “She can take over next week when she’s back from visiting her aunt. But you need someone for this afternoon, don’t you?”

           “Magnus, do you even know the rules? You didn’t grow up here, are you sure it’s the same—?” He waved off her concerns.

           “Psht, the kids will help me figure it out. It’s just for a few days. This isn’t the first time I’ve coached a sport I don’t know how to play.” Rachel tilted her head, curls swinging.

           “It isn’t?” she asked. Magnus paused, frowning.

           “You know, that’s a lie. I don’t know why I said that, this is definitely the first time I’ve ever coached anything. But I have a feeling I can figure it out.” He gave Rachel a grin. “Come on,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Show me what these kids have got.”


           The water wrapped around Barry in a cool embrace, lifting him gently, letting him drift quietly through the world. He could feel the heat of the sun bathing his face. With his ears underwater, there was no sound to interrupt him, nothing but the gentle rushing of the lake. He kept his eyes closed, his breath so slow his chest barely moved, his arms fluttering gently to keep him floating, drinking in the silence.

           You won’t be able to remember learning to swim. And in fact, you’ll probably remember that as a kid you never learned how, so going in the water will probably freak you out a little bit at first. But don’t worry about that, swimming is muscle memory, so as soon as you start doing it you’ll be fine.

           The magic coin that had his voice had been right, as it was about most things. Barry had waded into the quiet, secluded lake with trepidation, almost stopping in panic when the water first splashed up over his knees. He might have stopped there, but three months of the hottest summer he’d ever experienced – or, he supposed, the hottest he could remember – combing fruitlessly through Neverwinter for clues to a mystery he didn’t understand, wading through the grime and the stink of a city dead with heat, made him want to dive face first into this fresh mountain lake whether he drowned or not. He’d taken a deep breath and plunged forward – and found that he could swim perfectly well. His arms and legs moved without thought. So he turned on his back and floated. For once, the weight that always seemed to sit heavy in his chest eased. He let the water carry him, gentle, gentle, peaceful, peaceful, quiet, quiet, quiet.


           Sometimes, Davenport didn’t sleep. Sometimes, he would be possessed by an urgency he could neither understand nor articulate, and he would pace around his room, trying desperately to think of what he might have forgotten to do. Lucretia would hear him sometimes, from her bedroom next door, and would knock on his door, wrapped in a dressing gown and yawning. He couldn’t explain what was wrong, but she’d sit with him anyway, let him keep pacing if need be. Sometimes she’d fetch a binder of the Bureau’s schedule for the next few weeks, and go over it with him. They’d note down appointments for maintenance to the Moonbase, a regularly scheduled meeting with Garfield to go over Fantasy Costco’s inventory, a check-in with Johann and the voidfish, and select reclaimers to send after the newest rumors of a Grand Relic. Eventually, Davenport would feel calm enough to go to sleep, and Lucretia would shut the binder with a smile, sending him off to bed. Sometimes their sessions lasted almost until dawn, but Davenport never once heard her complain that he kept her up. If there were bags under her eyes the next morning, she ignored them, and no one else would ever have dared comment.


           Sometimes they could feel the holes in their lives like they were missing a tooth. They filled them any way they could.


           “I cast Zone of Truth!”

           The dragonborn woman next to Merle glared down at him. Next to her, the wizard leaned back in his chair, examining his nails, looking immensely bored.

           “I don’t think there’s any need for that,” the woman said, crossing her arms. “We all trust each other here, don’t we?”

           “I just think we can all trust each other a bit more if we know we’re all telling the truth,” Merle said, raising his hands in surrender.

           “What is it with you and that spell?” the wizard asked, picking at a bit of dirt under his fingernail. “I’ve known you less than a week and you’ve used it three times.”

           “And every time it’s put a potential employer on the defensive,” the dragonborn woman growled. She turned back to the elf, who was eyeing them skeptically across the table. “I apologize for him,” she said. The elf pursed her lips.

           “I had no intention of lying to you,” she said. “But if this makes you feel more comfortable…” She shrugged.

           “Sorry I don’t like being sent on an adventure for an employer who’s withholding information,” Merle grumbled. The wizard shot a single tiny flame from his fingertip, landing it in Merle’s beard. Merle yelped and patted it out. He glared at the wizard, who gave him a careless smile in response.

           “Oops,” he said.

           “You little—”

           “Oh, what are you going to do? Cast Zone of Truth on me? Ask me how I feel about it?”

           “Well, you’re just a wise guy, aren’t ya?” Merle stood up. “I’m not gonna be part of a group that tries to set my beard on fire. This beard is a lot of work. If you folks decide you want to keep working with me, then you can come find me, and apologize,” he announced, and walked out.


           Taako pulled his wizard’s hat low over his eyes, poking a finger at the tavern’s dinner. It had been years since Glamour Springs, but people still sometimes knew his face, and an elf wizard transmuting food would be a huge tip off. He didn’t feel like making a quick exit tonight. Glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, he whispered a spell under his breath, and the suspicious mystery meat turned into a perfectly decent ribeye steak. He breathed a sigh of relief and dug in before the barmaid could notice anything odd about what he was eating.

           He’d chosen a table tucked into a cramped corner, where the building stuck out at an odd angle to take advantage of as much extra space as it could. There was a dusty bookshelf next to him, mostly full of religious pamphlets and books left behind by clerics. A six-month-old flyer advertising for adventurers had been forgotten on one of the shelves. Leaning against one end was some fat, esoteric volume on candle making, and a slim collection of bards’ songs. Taako ran a disinterested eye over all of it, ready to retreat to his room for the night, before he caught sight of a battered book lying flat on the bottom shelf, almost invisible in its black cover. He crouched and picked it up, dislodging a massive dust cloud that sent him into a brief sneezing fit. Once his eyes stopped watering and he managed to brush away enough dust to open the book, he dropped back into his seat in disbelief.

           He hid the slim little book on transmutation magic under his shirt and snuck it up to his room. Lighting a candle, he devoured it overnight, reading and rehearsing every spell it described. He ran his fingers along the broken spine of the book. He was getting better, he thought, despite his still-frequent mistakes. Transmutation spells always felt right, almost familiar, to him. He wouldn’t make a mistake like Glamour Springs again. He could master this, he was sure of it. Taako would be the best transmutation wizard there ever was. One day.


           Magnus scraped his knife gently along the edge of the chest, pausing to blow away the slender curls of discarded wood. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. The elaborate jellyfish carving covered the chest: its bell sat on the top, with tentacles reaching out and around, encircling it on all sides. At a small cough from the doorway, he turned to see a woman standing there, looking embarrassed.

           “You, uh, you didn’t have to do this, you know,” she said. He waved her off.

           “I wanted to,” he said. “It was the least I could, after you let me stay here almost a month.” The woman shook her head.

           “You really helped us with driving off that sea snake,” she said. “I don’t know what we would have done if we’d lost any more fishing boats.” She stepped closer, admiring the chest. “Is that a jellyfish?” she asked.

           “Yeah,” he said, smiling. He ran a thumb across one corner, dislodging some sawdust. “I just need to varnish it and it’ll be done.”

           “It’s beautiful,” the woman said, letting her finger trail gently across it. “When have you even seen a jellyfish? I thought you said this was your first time by the sea?” Magnus shrugged.

           “I’ve seen pictures somewhere. I just really like them.” The woman dropped her hand, standing back and admiring the carving.

           “Thank you, Magnus,” she said. “For everything.”

           “Yeah,” he said. Something ached in his chest as he looked at the carving, an insistent feeling of loss that he couldn’t quite identify. He looked away. “Of course.”


           There was a piano, and Barry’s fingers itched.

           He had to keep tearing his eyes away from it, reminding himself that wasn’t why he was here. The coin had sent him asking around Goldcliff after the elf woman he was always looking for, although for some reason it never told him her name. Since one of the traits it had rattled off was that she could play the violin, he’d wandered his way to an elegant country club that hired bards and other musicians to entertain their guests. A tall human woman stood on the stage, singing a high, chipper song.

           His eyes kept straying to the piano.

           He didn’t even think he could play the piano. He couldn’t remember learning, and if he’d learned it during what the coin called his “stolen century,” the coin hadn’t bothered to mention it. Still, his fingers itched.

           He straightened his suit jacket, forcing himself to focus as a fancily dressed dwarf walked up, staring him down.

           “What do you want?” he asked bluntly. Barry wet his lips nervously.

           “I’m looking for an elf woman. You might have hired her to play the violin? She’s—”


           “I… don’t know her name.” The dwarf looked exasperated.

           “I hire a dozen performers a month, kiddo. I’m not gonna remember one elf lady without a name.”

           “Please,” Barry said, feeling desperate. “It’s important.”

           “Sorry. Not my problem.” The dwarf turned to go.

           “Wait!” Barry called. The dwarf paused. “Forget the elf woman. I want to play here. For the guests.” The dwarf turned back, looking him up and down critically.

           “You a bard, kid?”

           “No,” Barry said. “But I play the piano.” He prayed his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. He was almost sure he was telling a blatant lie. But if he could figure out how to stick around, just a little bit longer, then maybe he’d be able to ask more questions about the woman. The dwarf was squinting at him suspiciously.

           “Come back for an audition in the morning,” he said. “I’ll need to see if you’re good enough.” Barry nodded eagerly.

           He came back the next morning, to a dwarf looking disheartened that he’d actually shown up. He sat down at the piano, staring at the keys, and for a moment he nearly bolted. He didn’t know how to do this. It was ridiculous to imagine he’d just magically know how to play the piano. Sure, he could swim without being able to remember learning, but that was different. He wasn’t even certain he had ever learnt to play the piano.

           Then he set his fingers on the keys, played an opening cord, and before he could think, there was music flowing from under his fingertips.

           He closed his eyes as he played, careful not to think too closely about what he was doing. He let the music come naturally, felt it move trippingly along his fingers. He knew when to pause, when to crescendo, when to let a note linger. He didn’t notice the tears on his cheeks until the song ended. He sniffed, embarrassed, hurriedly wiping at his eyes with the cuff of his shirt before turning back to the dwarf, who looked mildly impressed.

           “Okay, kid, I’ll admit, you’ve got some skill there. You… can’t cry in front of the guests, though, you know that, right?” Barry nodded, pressing his lips together and sniffing again. “Well, you’re hired for next week if you want the job. That was a beautiful song – your own composition?” Barry shook his head, and didn’t understand the words that came out of his mouth, but he said them anyway.

           “It was only half a song.”


           Davenport liked to stargaze. On clear, warm nights, he’d find his way to one of the outdoor decks on the moonbase, lie on his back, and stare up to the stars. He’d trace constellations with his finger. It always brought him a feeling of peace and security to look up and see the stars shining brightly in the sky. One summer evening, Lucretia joined him, taking her first night off in too long to remember. She lay beside him quietly for a long time. Finally, she murmured, more to herself than him, “What do you see up there?”

           Davenport turned to look at her, smiling, because he had the word today. “Home,” he said. She flinched, looking at him wide-eyed, and then slowly stood, turned, and walked away, leaving Davenport alone.


           Sometimes they went looking for people. They didn’t know their names, or their faces, or how they would find them, but they went looking all the same.


           Merle plopped himself down in front of the chessboard, giving a challenging stare to the man sitting on the other side.

           “Fancy a game?” he asked. The man looked at him in surprise.

           “I just took it out to clean off the dust – I’ve been travelling all day—”

           “Exactly! What better way to relax than sit down and play a little?”

           “Well, chess is actually not that relaxing—”

           “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!” Merle cajoled. “We don’t have to bet or anything.” The man glanced around the tavern, and then shrugged, reaching for his case of pieces.

           “Alright,” he said. “Let’s play.”

           He and Merle fell into silent concentration, sliding pawns and rooks and bishops across the board. Merle’s knight laid waste to the man’s pawns until his queen stopped it. Merle played defensively, retreating his pieces out of reach when they started to get into danger. The game progressed slowly as the tavern grew first rowdier, and then slowly quieter and quieter as patrons drifted out. Finally, Merle dropped his bishop into place with a decisive “Checkmate!” The man flicked his king with one finger, knocking it over. He smiled at Merle, reached across the board to shake his hand, and then stood up, stretched, yawned, and left for bed.

           Merle stayed seated until the innkeeper came by to shoo him away, staring blankly at the now-empty table, his hands clasped, wondering if he should have said something else to the man with the chessboard.


           Taako was soaked to the bone, shivering in the downpour, his wizard’s hat heavy with water and sagging on his head. The barn sat dark and quiet and isolated, the house it must belong to almost out of sight up the hill. He darted up to the door in the cover of the dark, pulled it open, and slipped inside. As soon as he was out of the rain, he pulled off his hat and wrung it out, creating a puddle. He shook himself, trying to squeeze water out of his shirt and even his hair.

           The smell of manure assaulted his nose, but the barn’s only occupants were a couple of disinterested cows and a small flock of sheep. There was a stack of hay bales in the back, and Taako picked his way across the floor until he collapsed against the hay in relief. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. Tonight, of all nights, he had to run into someone from Glamour Springs, someone who knew his face with the kind of detail burning hatred brought. He’d fled into the rain, too afraid to even return to his room for his luggage, and run as far as he could. The town’s lights long out of sight behind him, he’d slowed to a walk, and trudged along a road rapidly turning into muddy soup.

           Raindrops ran down his forehead, dripping off the end of his nose. He scrubbed them away with his hand, his eyes still closed. He was so tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d lain down and properly meditated for a good few hours. Every time he tried, he got distracted. He felt like he couldn’t remember how he used to rest before. It had always been tough, but he knew he used to be able to do it.

           Maybe, he thought, he could just try, right now. He was so exhausted. Maybe he could just lie down and be quiet, even just for an hour or two.

           He stripped off most of the wet clothes and set them aside to dry. He pulled out of the haybales and lay down against it, ignoring the sharp, uncomfortable prickling. He tried to breathe slowly and evenly.

           He always envisioned a field when he meditated, a field with long grass on a warm summer’s night, a vision from his childhood. He’d been a cook’s assistant in a travelling troupe. Full of a particularly good beef stew, he had gone out to lie in the field, where he could stare up and see the stars wheeling overhead. He’d felt so peaceful. But it seemed lately that his memory of the field was pale and empty.

           He opened his eyes. He was so cold.


           Magnus shot up in bed, shouting. He was covered in sweat, chest heaving with breath. He clutched the sheets, his eyes wide as he stared into the dark tavern bedroom. His dream had been so vivid it still danced before his eyes: Raven’s Roost was crumbling to the ground. Julia stood atop one of the towers, her hands held out to him, calling for him, but he couldn’t move, because he was made of stone. He was nothing but a statue, able only to watch as Raven’s Roost fell, burying Julia under a mountain of rock.

           It took a long few minutes for his heart to slow, or his hands to uncurl from around the sheets. Unable to think of sleeping again, he climbed out of bed, lighting a candle, and retrieved a block of wood and a whittling knife. He carved a duck, occasionally humming to himself. By the time he finished, the gray flush of predawn light was creeping in through his window. He stared at the duck in his hands for a long time. He didn’t need another duck. He didn’t understand why he kept carving them. He left them as gifts, sometimes, for the innkeepers that gave him nicer rooms or let him do some maintenance work in lieu of payment for a room. Still, they were nothing but decorative. They served no useful purpose.

           He felt, for a moment, the utter helplessness of being a stone statue. He felt the terror of the stone squeezing breath from his lungs and life from his heart. He saw Julia tumbling down, down, down, still calling his name.

           He threw the duck so hard across the room that it hit the wall and shattered.


           Barry was just walking down the streets of Neverwinter when he saw her.

           It was the barest glimpse of a face, but his heart stuttered wildly in his chest. It was her, it had to be her. He knew it was her. He spun around, making the people behind him almost trip and fall into him, and caught just a glimpse of pointed hat vanishing into the crowd. His heart pounded wildly. He started to run.

           “Hey!” he called. “Hey! Come back!”

           He shoved people aside, ignoring the glares and occasional cusses, focused on nothing but the slightest glimpse of that pointed blue hat. He saw it again.

           “Hey!” he called. She paused, and he kept pushing his way towards her, keeping his eyes fixed on her hat. “It’s you! It’s – I know you.”

           She started to run. Barry shoved aside an orc almost twice his height, feeling frantic.

           “Wait!” he begged. “Wait! Please! Please wait! Please ­– come back, please! Please!” She weaved her way masterfully through the crowd. Barry started to run after her, but the orc grabbed his shoulder, glaring in displeasure. The hat vanished. Barry went limp against the orc’s hand, and broke into tears.


           Normally, Davenport was okay with faces. Faces he could more or less handle. Sometimes it was difficult – some of those dwarves looked bafflingly similar, for instance, and he frequently mixed up humans with the same hair colors. But all in all, faces were usually manageable. Names, however, were a whole different story. He could rarely manage to form words for himself. Fixing entirely new names in his head proved to be nigh impossible. Since he could almost never say them anyway, at some point he stopped trying. If he didn’t know who they were talking about, Lucretia could usually show him a picture.

           The day that the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet was recovered, three strangers walked into the moon base. Davenport studied their faces, working on committing these three to memory. Elf, dwarf, human. At least, if they were together, it would be easy to remember which was which.

           Then they introduced themselves to Lucretia, and to Davenport’s mild shock, the names stuck. They were Taako, Merle, and Magnus. He knew their names with as much surety as he knew Lucretia’s, almost as certainly as he knew his own. Their names were just as clear in his mind as their faces, even if he could rarely say them, even if he didn’t understand why.


           Sometimes little things slipped through the cracks. Fingers moved, hearts pounded, and smiles and tears broke across their faces without rhyme or reason. What they forgot, their bodies clung to stubbornly.


           It was Taako who pulled them along to the Moonbase’s pub. “We recovered one of these Grand Relic thingies that everyone here is so hung up over and yet haven’t managed to find themselves. That means we’re basically heroes,” he explained. “We ought to celebrate like heroes! Plus, we all had to drink whatever bodily fluid that voidfish ichor was, so we’re getting drunk tonight to forget what that tasted like.” Magnus shrugged and then proceeded with enthusiasm as soon as Taako waved a drink in his face. Merle sighed, muttering something about kids, and followed suit, albeit in a much more disgruntled manner. The scattered other members of the Bureau in the pub eyed them curiously.

           The three of them stumbled out of the pub hours later, all using each other for support and giggling helplessly.

           “But did you—” Taako snorted. “Did you see him pulling the arms off that robot? He was—” he hiccupped, “he was so intense.”

           “I saw your scrawny ass getting punched by an ogre,” Merle said, trying to wave a finger at him and slapping him in the midriff instead. “So much help you were.”

           “Hey, I did stuff,” Taako replied, trying to glare at Merle, except his eyes kept unfocusing.

           “Yeah, that umbrella stunt was pretty— was pretty—” Magnus waved his arms, miming an explosion, and sent the whole group careening sideways, nearly crashing into a wall.

           “Yeah I dunno what that was,” Taako chuckled. He glanced down to where he was leaning on the umbrella like a walking stick. He stopped, planting himself, and raised a finger dramatically. “I have. The most dangerous umbrella. In all the moonbase. Thank you, thank you!” He bowed to imaginary applause as Magnus and Merle struggled to catch their breath from laughing. Magnus, wiping tears out of his eyes, finally paused.

           “You know, you guys aren’t half bad,” he said. “We make a pretty cool team.”

           “Yeah!” Merle piped up. “We make a great team!” Taako’s head lolled on his shoulders momentarily before he snapped it back up to look at Magnus.

           “You— you’re good with the—” He mimed punching and nearly took Merle’s eye out with the umbrella. “You’re a pretty good fighter, my dude.”

           “And I’m sure Merle contributes something,” Magnus laughed.

           “Hey! Hey! Who saved Taako’s ass when he was unconscious back in the cave?” Taako swayed, leaning on the umbrella, and nodded slowly.

           “That is true. You did— you did in fact, save my ass.” He slung an arm around Merle and another one around Magnus. “I say, let’s keep doing this. Hey, maybe next time we find one of these relics, we turn into real heroes around here, huh?”

           “Sounds good to me, buddy,” Magnus replied, wrapping his arm around Taako.

           “Be nice to get the recognition we deserve,” Merle agreed amiably. The three of them started stumbling forward again, before pausing at a fork in the path.

           “Hey… does anybody remember where we live now?” Taako asked. There was a moment of tense silence. Then, Merle snorted, and started to chuckle. “No, seriously, where are we supposed to go?” Taako insisted. Merle kept on laughing, his chuckles getting louder and louder until they turned into belly laughs. Magnus began snickering too, and then laughing, drowning out Taako’s protests. The three of them swayed dangerously, almost toppling. Taako, helpless against his companions’ mirth, began to chuckle at the sheer absurdity of it all. They swayed again, in the other direction, all of them nearly screaming with laughter now, and then they swayed even further and all of them fell on their asses and collapsed into the ground. They laughed so hard that tears ran down their cheeks. They laughed so hard their stomachs hurt. They laughed until none of them had the slightest idea what had started it all anymore, but as soon as they calmed down, they would make eye contact and dissolve into fits of mirth again.

           Finally, exhausted almost to collapse, and their stomachs aching from laughing too hard, they fell back on the ground, shoulders and elbows and knees shoved up against each other. They sighed collectively, grins still stretching their cheeks. Somehow, even on a strange, futuristic Moonbase, with no idea where they were supposed to spend the night, they felt like they were home.

the, aphobes and their ‘ace culture is just jokes about food’ thing is odd because I remember those jokes coming from a time when I couldn’t scroll my dash without also seeing the Pan Puns. stuff like 'no we are not having sex with kitchen equipment’ and someone responds with 'wait we’re not? what are we meant to be doing’. and that beautiful story where someone misheard pansexual as pandasexual and then it dawned on the narrator that they’re a fucking panda furry. anyone still have links to these posts?

and it was also the time when popular trans positivity posts were like 'there should be a service that lets trans men and women swap their boobs’ and there were jokes about ace and aro and bi and nonbinary people all having invisibility as a super power. it was a beautiful time when people could make goofy, positive posts about their genders and sexualities without it being called Cringe, and fucking #mogai culture and other stuff designed to invalidate young queers figuring themselves out

and only aces are being made fun of for this. I don’t get it at all. we were all that embarrassing. early tumblr culture was a mess but I don’t see why we can’t just let people make positivity posts like they used to

Butterfly Wings


The first time Lance walked into the common room without makeup on early in the morning, Hunk cried.
Hunk had known about Lance’s Vitiligo since early days in the Garrison when he had accidentally walked in on him while changing. Since then Hunk had worked as a one person protection squad ready to kill anyone that so much as glanced at Lance the wrong way.
He had known that Allura knew about Lance’s skin since he had told Hunk almost immediately after it had happened.
However he had never expected that only a few days later Lance would come stumbling into the kitchen first thing in the morning, hair messed up from sleep and eyes half closed; only wearing his boxers and a white vest causing the pale patches that ran across his arms, back, neck and face to be perfectly visible.
Hunk couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so proud of his best friend. This truly was an achievement.
Lance looked over at Hunk opening his mouth and pointing at it demanding his breakfast.
Hunk only rolled his eyes and laughed swatting at the blue paladin with a wooden spoon. “Foods almost done, so sit down and don’t complain.”
“Ok Hunky dory” Lance teased sitting at the long table with his head rested on his arms snoozing till the space porridge was ready.
For a few minutes everything was peaceful.
Then Pidge walked into the kitchen and stopped in their tracks staring at Lance.
Before Hunk even realised what was going on, they were already rushing over to the snoozing paladin with a panicked look on their face.
“Oh my god Lance what happened to you!?”
Hunk flinched. He prayed that Lance hadn’t heard anything, that he won’t have to deal with this again.
However Hunk wasn’t that lucky.
Lance slowly straightened up looking at Pidge was a forced smile.
Pidge gasped seeing the pale patches also on his face.
“Nothing happened Pidge, im fine.” He shrugged casually but Hunk could see he was practically curling in on himself.
“Fine!” Pidge exclaimed “Lance have you looked in the mirror today?! There’s something wrong with your skin it could be an alien parasite for all we know!”
Lance bit his lip, the effort not to cry so intense that he managed to draw blood. “Pidge I’m fine this is just… how my skin is.”
“B-but how!?” Pidge asked looking over at Hunk. They were shocked to see the usually gentle yellow paladin shaking with rage.
“Pidge stop.” Hunk hissed through gritted teeth.
“Hunk its fine…” Lance tried putting a hand to his mouth to hide the cut.
“No it’s not!” Hunk snapped putting the spoon down and glared at at Pidge. “You remember when we kept badgering you about your gender. Asking you why your like this and what’s wrong with you?”
Pidge looked confused and a little scared “n-no.”
“Exactly. Because we knew it would hurt you to ask such things, yet here you are doing the same thing to Lance.”
Pidge looked down guilty “I’m… I’m sorry Lance I just… I didn’t know what it was and I was worried.”
Lance smiled hugging the smaller paladin from behind “it’s ok, a lot of people don’t know what it is and can kinda freak seeing it the first time. I really am not sick, it’s just how my skin is. I’m fine.”
Hunk pretended not to notice how Lance’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.
And he pretended not to notice when the next morning Lance came to breakfast in his normal clothes and his makeup back on.

Payback (M)

Jimin x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, light choking, daddy kink, kinda public??, idk man it’s just filth

Word Count: 3,125

Summary:  Park fucking Jimin was sin incarnate, and he knew it too. You have had it with his extra ass on stage, he was always taking some article of clothing off and you were at your wits end. This means war.

A/N: This is my fic, I’m re-posting onto my sideblog.

Your jaw was on the floor after watching BTS’ new comeback stage. As if the low cut shirts, lip bites, sexual lyrics, and all around rudeness wasn’t enough, Jimin decided he needed to up the ante and undress on stage looking like sin itself. Fucker. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you decided he needed to be punished.

Dressing in all his favourites; your shorts, oversized sweater and thigh high socks that always got to him, you headed to the boys’ dorm for a movie night after making sure your coat covered everything. You arrived at the dorm quicker than anticipated, and after being let in by Hoseok and attacked by the boys with hugs, you learned that Jimin was still in the shower. Settling down on the couch you took your jacket off and got comfortable with a bowl of popcorn when you felt several pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, you saw the boys eying your outfit and you smiled to yourself, your plan already working. Jimin walked out of the shower with his hair still damp, wearing sweats and a loose t shirt. He looked around the room and noticed that all eyes were on you, a smile spreading on his face as he met your eyes, then he saw why they were staring and his face hardened.

Strike one.

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Hunted {BTS Mafia!au}


Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: BTS mafia au
Warning: angst, smut (at some point), violence, mentions of prostitution/drugs, swearing, other dark themes I can’t think of right now 

Writer: Bom

Word count: 1566

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Summary: Y/N  Y/L/N is the daughter of Y/F/N Y/L/N, leader of the most renowned gangs in the mafia. While working, Y/N catches the attention of Min Yoongi, leader of one of the most feared gangs within the mafia. And he will stop at nothing to get her…

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Daily Texts (ALiL Deleted Scene)

Summary: (College!AU): In which you try to adjust to daily texts from Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,418

A/N: @poe-also-bucky requested: I was wondering if you had any deleted scene over the first time reader realized Bucky’s daily texts were going to be daily texts? She mentions that even after a week, she’s still trying to get used to it, and I would love to know how she felt maybe when she realized he would be texting her goodnight, for instance. <3 This takes place between “The Unintentional Run-In” and “The Little Things (Part One)”

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

Originally posted by itsmaleficentbitch

Checking your phone first thing in the morning isn’t something you’re in the habit of doing. With a clock hanging on your wall, all you need to do is check that to see what time it is instead of your phone. It also helps that the only people you want to talk to in the morning are the same two people that you live with.

It’s for those reasons that you end up don’t check your phone until your first class ends. When you do, you come across a couple of messages from Nat and Wanda, as well as one from Bucky. Or, as he insisted you call him, James.

It’s been quite an interesting quest to stop seeing Bucky as the friend you’ve had since freshman year and start seeing him as James, someone you’re just getting to know. The shift has made you realize just how used to his presence you had become over the past few years.

After responding to your roommates’ messages, you turn to Bucky’s. When you do, what you see stops you in place. The two of you have been texting more regularly, but this is new.

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Naruto x alcohol headcanons
  • also known as "get none_kitten's headcanons away from me asap"
  • Naruto: yells a lot, hugs everyone and gives smoochy cheek kisses. even to Kakashi. never let him drink again. probably would light a trashcan on fire. is oblivious to anyone flirting with him, to a point where it's painful to watch.
  • Sakura: Tsunade 2.0, now with upgraded damage.
  • Sai: blushes a lot, suddenly he doesn't fuck up human conversation, but also has a horrible headache and pukes halfway.
  • Sasuke: snark level 527383106
  • Shikamaru: suddenly blurts out ALL the random facts. hey did you know the Eiffel tower was shorter in winter?
  • Ino: flirts with and teases every-fucking-one around the table (or town), but doesn't really follow through.
  • Chouji: cheap-ass drunk food, probably pizza from the shadiest street food place? gimmmeeeee
  • Hinata: wow she speaks a lot. probably about serious literature and poetry. also is really pretty with the blush and shiny eyes she's got going on.
  • Shino: deems the entire thing illogical but gets ass-drunk anyways, starts up conversation with the local flora and fauna (and by this i mean that at one point he was probably hugging a decorative ficus) then leaves without a word to go sleep.
  • Kiba: challenges Naruto in yelling matches, pisses off the balcony, ends up snuggling with Akamaru, hanging half off the beer-stained couch.
  • Neji: super cute, probably would look amazing in a flower crown, is a huge flirt but never notices he's doing it, all the while he keeps swaying from one foot to the other. string of broken hearts left behind? check. does he remember it in the morning? nah, son
  • Tenten: takes interest in the butcher knives in the kitchen, and gives murderous glances to anyone who tries to chat her up. takes care of Neji though, when he can't walk anymore, and pretends not to know Lee.
  • Lee: accidentally drop-kicks someone off the balcony, because THE POWER OF YOUTH CAN'T BE CONTAINED!!!!
  • Gai: rants about the Springtime of Youth for about two and a half beers, then falls asleep on the table because he's getting to old for this, dammit
  • Kakashi: plays bored for half the evening, flirts with everyone the other half (and by flirting i mean he's the sassiest bitch in town and takes home whomever lasts the longest). has a pretty pink blush on the visible half of his face. probably made Sharingan jokes along the evening.
  • Asuma: out smoking the whole time, rolling his eyes as people keep asking him for "just one cigarette, mate". when he - occasionally - shows face inside, he keeps eyeing Kurenai in a definite leer.
  • Kurenai: tries way too hard to ignore Asuma's stares. ends up getting a ride home in Asuma's car. probably tries to convince Kiba at least twice to go home already and sleep it off.
  • Anko: starts telling more and more disturbing jokes and cackles madly.
  • Ibiki: facepalms endlessly because Anko also has a vine-like grip on his arm and clings on. painfully.
  • Yamato: drunken rants. so many of them. 90% of it is probably vegan activism.
  • Kotetsu and Izumo: making out in a corner. from all that's showing, they could pass a) as teenagers in love b) as they're currently having hot hot steamy sex c) they morphed into one being with too many limbs and hair d) all of the above
  • Iruka: blushes. blushes a lovely shade of deep red only lobsters have.
  • Jiraiya: there's a line forming to slam-dunk his face into the toilet. a line of very angry women.
  • ps: there's a private Hokage party upstairs where Hashirama is acting like a child, Tobirama is more done than Ibiki and Kakashi combined, Hiruzen chuckles good-naturedly over a cup of fine sake, and Minato has a drunken flush on his face as he stares starry-eyed into nowhere.
Comforting Winn

Alex’s phone chirps and she grabs it immediately, instinctively, before it can wake the woman sleeping next to her.

She squints at the caller ID, at the time, and her stomach drops.

“Winn, are you okay? Is Kara okay? Is – ”

“No, no, relax Alex, it’s not DEO stuff, it’s – everything’s – you know what, that’s your I-was-sleeping-so-hard-because-I’m-recovering-from-a-wild-night-with-my-lady voice, so I’m just gonna let you – ”

Alex rubs her eyes and sits up, making sure the covers stay wrapped around Maggie’s nearly naked body as Maggie sighs and shifts around at the loss of contact without opening her eyes.

“I don’t have a voice for – you know what, no, Winn, what is it?”

“I – it – I’m sorry Alex, it’s just… Kara and James are in this really intensive training with J’onn and Lyra’s out of town with her brother and I – ”

“Spit it out, Schott, what is it?”

“My dad… my dad called. I didn’t take it, but I – he – ”

Alex’s stomach lurches and she runs a hand over her face, her heart breaking more than she wants to portray in her voice.

“Where are you?”

“I’m home, where else would I – ”

“Come over. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“No, Alex, I shouldn’t have called, you’re with Maggie, I – ”

“Winn, get over here. And bring coffee.”

Maggie rolls over and gropes sleepily for Alex’s body with her eyes closed. “And donuts,” she calls groggily, and Alex grins down at her.

“You hear that, Winn?”

“Loud and clear. Give me a half hour. And Alex – ”

“Don’t make me regret being nice to you, Schott. Just get over here.”

She hangs up before he has the chance to change his mind, before he has the chance to talk himself out of reaching out to her.

She purses her lips and shudders slightly and sighs, slipping out of the bed to unlock the door for him.

“He okay, Al?” Maggie croaks, sitting up to watch Alex pad across the living room sleepily.

“He will be,” Alex whispers across the house. “Sleep, babe. He won’t be here for another half hour.”

She slips back into bed and Maggie melts into her arms immediately. “You’re not mad? I mean, you don’t mind?”

Maggie turns and puts a clumsy, groggy hand to Alex’s cheek. “Why’d I be mad at you for being a great big sister, Danvers?”

Alex pffts and shakes her head and is grateful Maggie can’t see her blush.

“You’re the best, you know that?” she kisses her, and Maggie grins with her eyes closed.

They’re not sure how or exactly when they drift back to sleep, but they both immediately snap back awake when the front door creaks open and light from the hallway spills into the apartment.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, it’s me,” Winn holds up his hands as best he can with coffee and donuts, because if he knows nothing else, he knows the women in his life.

“C’mere, you,” Alex invites, and Maggie remembers with a jolt that she’s not wearing a shirt.

“Also, pass me that t-shirt on the floor in the kitchen, would you?” Maggie asks with a cocky, sleepy grin, and Winn chuckles slightly.

“Kitchen fun times, huh Danvers? Nice – ”

“Don’t – don’t say anything else,” Alex cuts him off, and Maggie chuckles this time.

He steps up into Alex’s room and passes Maggie her shirt with his eyes studiously closed.

Alex takes the opportunity to study him. His shoulders are stooped and he’s in one of James’s old hoodies and his eyes, even closed, are swollen. He looks tiny and he looks terrified.

She remembers sobbing into Maggie’s arms about her father.

She remembers Maggie sobbing into her arms about her own father.

How small it made Alex feel. How small it made Maggie look.

“Okay,” Maggie tells him, shirt on now, and Alex shifts and pats the bed between her and her girlfriend.

“Come on,” she says, and Winn just stares.

“You tell anyone about this and you will find out exactly what those index finger techniques are – ”

“You know it’s not as scary when you have sex-bed hair and your girlfriend just needed me to collect her shirt from your kitchen floor – ”

“Yeah, babe, also, index finger threats? Like, has a whole new meaning now, doesn’t – ”

“Traitor! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Actually, um… you invited me over to support me? So, it’s all about my side?”

Alex sighs and shrugs and holds out her hands for her coffee, and Winn provides.

Maggie holds out her hand too, but when he offers the coffee, she just shakes her hand again. He grins and presents her with the entire box of donuts.

“Now you’re getting it,” she says through a mouthful of chocolate glazed. “Get over here before Danvers and I make like Kara and eat the whole damn box.”

Winn gulps and sets his and Maggie’s coffees on the bedside table and crawls over Alex – she doesn’t move to make it easier for him, a shit-eating grin on her face and a mock-glare on his – to settle between them. Maggie tosses the covers over him and holds out the donut box.

“So what happened?”

Winn sighs and shrinks into himself and stuffs a donut into his mouth.

“Caooellheae?” he tries to ask around a mouthful of chocolate frosting.

“Try again, Schott,” Alex furrows her brow at him, and he tastes a gigantic gulp.

“Can you tell her, Alex?”

Alex heart breaks and she sips at her coffee and she almost reaches out to touch his face. Almost.

“Winn’s dad called him tonight. And he’s… he’s in prison – for um – ”

“He’s the Toyman,” Winn supplies quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, leaning over Alex to get his coffee so he doesn’t have to meet Maggie’s eyes.

But Maggie just nods and puts her hand on his knee and urges him to take another donut.

“I figured, Winn. I just – it’s not mine to bring up if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

Alex and Winn both turn to Maggie with looks of identical shock.

“Detective, guys. It’s kind of my job. And it’s not like your names aren’t, you know, the same.”

Winn casts his eyes down and digs into a jelly-filled.

“Funny thing, though. Because the names are the same, but the people are so different,” she continues, softly, softly, and Winn looks up at her with wide eyes and a set jaw.

“That’s not what he says. He says we’re the same. He said it when he escaped, and he said it again in the voicemail he left tonight.”

Alex does reach out to touch his face this time, briefly, softly, and Maggie smiles sadly across the bed at her girlfriend.

“Well, my dad says the reason he was willing to forcibly deport thousands of innocent people is me.”

“And mine says I’m a disgusting disgrace and selfish and am going to hell and he never wants to see me again.”

Alex exhales with tears in her eyes and Winn turns to Maggie with a furrowed brow, concern and sadness all over his face.

Maggie tilts her coffee cup toward his in salute, and offers simply, by way of explanation, “Lesbian.”

“Maggie, I… I didn’t know. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Well hey, dysfunctional, abusive relationships with fathers’ club in this bed tonight. At least there’s donuts, right?”

Winn smiles and leans to put his head on Maggie’s shoulder, and Alex wishes it were game night, not comfort night, so she could take a picture.

“Invite Kara and James with their dead dads and we’ll have a real party,” Winn deadpans from Maggie’s shoulder, and Alex tosses her arm around him, her fingers playing on the back of Maggie’s neck.

“You’re nothing like your dad, Winn. Nothing. And even if… even if you have those things inside you, it’s the choices, you know, that you make. And you’ve chosen to… to save the world, dude, not destroy it.”

Winn sighs and sits up, grabbing a third donut from the box at Maggie’s feet, biting into it and offering the rest to Alex miserably. She accepts and keeps her arm steady around his shoulders.

“How can you be sure?”

Alex sighs and chews thoughtfully.

“You know, Kara didn’t really have a lot of friends. Growing up. She was the weird kid, the freak who never quite fit in. People always took advantage of how kind she is, how… how amazing she is. And then she interviewed at CatCo, and she met you, and you know when she first told me about you, about this IT guy who takes her to lunch and explains all of Cat Grant’s idiosyncracies so she doesn’t get fired, and laughs at her terrible jokes and makes terrible jokes of his own, and has toys all over his desk and stammers when he gets nervous but always, always stands up for her when people try to dismiss her as incompetent just because she’s… well, Kara… I was suspicious of you. I… I didn’t trust it. You. I thought you just wanted her, that you wanted to use her for something, that you were making fun of her. But the stories never stopped. The stories about how good you were to her. And then I met you, and you… you were real. You just… you just really cared for her. And then she started dating the only other friend you had and you just… you took care of yourself, and then you just… you kept caring. You’re rare, Winn. You… you saw Kara. You always saw her. So no. You’re nothing like your dad. Because you see goodness in the world and you’re not threatened by it, you don’t want to destroy it, you just want to make more goodness yourself.”

“Alex, I – ”

“No, nope, don’t say anything. I’ve just fulfilled my yearly quota of being nice to you, so really, you don’t wanna push it.”

“I was just gonna tell you that you have some powdered sugar on your lip.”

“I can get that for you, babe – ”

“God, guys, I’m right – ow, Maggie, that’s my foot – it – okay – I’ll just… I’ll be on the other side of your inexplicably massive bed…”



“I love you. Okay?”

“I love you too, Alex. I love you too.”

“Aww, guys, you’re so sweet!”

“If anyone at the DEO finds out about this, I swear to god, Sawyer – ”

“What are you gonna do, babe, threaten me with your index finger? Cause that’s not a threat – ”

“Oh my god, why are you both like this?”

“Oh Alex, come on. Look at my puppy eyes! And your woman’s dimples! You love us!”

Winn activates his best puppy eyes and Maggie flashes her biggest smile, and Alex, for once in her life, is defenseless and feels amazing about it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Not Letting Go

Prompt: You believe that Sherlock is crazy for Irene so one day, you have to help Irene escape some guys that followed her and cornered her. You end up seriously injured. When Sherlock arrives, thinking that you were going to die, everything is laid out.

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

A/N: This was a request an anon sent in and I really enjoyed writing this one. A bit longer than usual but I had a cute story to tell and I really wanted to :P I hope you guys like this one! Remember! My requests are always open and I love writing for y’all so don’t be afraid to send one in!

Originally posted by bethereinagiphy

You’re sitting, writing your report on the case Sherlock and John are working on. Peaking up from the top of your laptop, you silently watch Sherlock move about the kitchen, grabbing all his evidence to test as John stands there making tea.

“Y/n, come here for a second, I need an extra pair of hands to help me.” Sherlock calls out. John lets out a scoff, “I’m standing right here! I can help Sherlock!”

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A Better Man

Anonymous said:85. “I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” with Jamilton in the Uncharted AU?

Anonymous said:Number two Jamilton??? POSSIBLY TREASURE HUNTERS/UNCHARTED AU? 

tori-toni said:Do you mind writing #2 from the prompt list with Jamilton please? You’re the best💙 

Anonymous said:2 jamilton pls 

porksoda01 said:can i request a fanfic?? i would really really love Uncharted AU Jamilton Either number 2 or 91 Also i really love your art and your fanfictions, bury me with them

#85  I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” #2  “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

1,160 words for the Uncharted au 

The rush of relief Hamilton feels when he finally knocks on the crooked door of this third rate hotel room almost brings him to his knees. He’d had to give the remainder of the water logged bills in his pocket to a rug merchant in the plaza to get the name of the place, had had to bribe the clerk with his watch for the room number but in the end it was worth it. Despite his fatigue, his stomach rolls in anticipation. Even after everything that’s happened it still does, it always will. But that’s not what’s important right now.

He knows he has no right barge in like this, but the situation is urgent and he has nowhere else to turn, no one else he could trust with this. If he thought there was someone else he wouldn’t be here asking this much. He knows he has no right to be asking for favors, especially not one this big, not after what he’d done to him, to the two of them. But those psycho power hungry British D bags have the only person Alexander has ever considered as a father figure in their clutches, and once they get what they need from him they won’t hesitate to kill him, he’s sure of that. They’re ruthless and determined as hell to cover their tracks, which is why Alexander needs this favor. He only hopes that can put their messy history aside for the sake of their mutual friend

The door swings open and Hamilton practically collapses inside, feeling his way along the wall over to the couch overburdened with hand woven blankets. He drops boneless onto it, clutching at the shooting pain just below his right rib. His whole body aches. He’s see a lot of shit in his life but that ordeal may take the cake. His arms have never felt so heavy, he’s never been this thirsty in his entire life. Hamilton leans back against the sofa with a groan.

“Alex? Oh my god, what happened?”

His body screams at him to stay prone and let sleep overtake him, he hasn’t slept in nearly thirty six hours? Maybe longer. He’s on the verge of passing out but that’s simply not an option. Despite the shooting pain in his- everywhere- Alexander lifts his head and prys open his eyes.

Thomas is still as amazing as always. Strong and witty and surprisingly cunning. Hamilton never deserved him. If he’d cared about him at all he would have left him be, would have tried to shield him from this ongoing shitstorm that is his life. He deserves to be safe, to have that white picket fence life he would have had if he and Alexander had never met. And Alexander had tried, god had he tried to live up to Thomas’ expectations of him, but the unknown and the thrill and freedom of this work had been like a siren call to him. They were both unhappy, Alexander had felt trapped though it was never Thomas’ fault. He often fears that’s how Jefferson had interpreted his restlessness. If he could do it over again Hamilton knows he would do better, because this treasure hunting may be his life, but Thomas is the only thing that’s ever made it worth living, a bigger reason to make it out alive then simply spite or egotistical ambition. If he could do it over again he’d be better, but Alexander knows he doesn’t deserve that chance, he’s got no right to drag Thomas down again.

So, instead of saying any of this, instead of offering up any number of  apologies or affectionate greetings, Hamilton stammers out. “I need a favor.”

Jefferson  is at his side in an instant, sitting right there beside him on the couch looking mortified. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They can’t hurt you now, alright. Okay whatever this is we’re going to get through this. Alex what the hell happened to you?”

“Pirates” he gasps, stabbing pain shooting up his chest as he tries to readjust himself.

“Are you bleeding? Alex-” Thomas tries to pull his hand away but Hamilton waves him off.

“It's’ fine. Thomas listen, they have Wash, King and Hail, they got him, they’re going into the disaster and I need to go after them.” He desperately needs some water too but that can wait for now.

“No no no Alex no” Thomas chides him, trying so hard to keep it together, but Alexander can hear the trembling of his voice.  He pushes the limp, blood caked, salt crusted hair from his face, rub his thumb gently over Alexander’s cheek. “You need to rest alright? You need to rest-”

“- I don’t need to rest Thomas-”

“-You need to rest and let me clean you up and- and call a doctor.” Thomas finishes firmly.

“I don’t have time okay.” he pushes Jefferson’s hand always despite how much it hurts him to do so. “I just need to find them before they disappear again. I just need information, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You think I’m just going to let you go back out there like this? All by yourself?” Jefferson eyes are hard and indigent now. “Alex, they have a whole army, and you could barely make it to the couch. It’s a suicide mission.”

If he had more energy, maybe Hamilton would have put up a better fight. Instead he just mumbles. “It’s Wash, Thomas- I can’t just, abandon him.”

“And who’s going to save him when you get yourself killed?” Jefferson snaps. “Honestly Alexander, you’re so stubborn. Would you just shut up and listen to me for once?! Instead of running right back out there to get yourself killed because you’re too proud to admit that you’re human, or that you need help, you idiot!”

“I almost died you know.” Hamilton relies, which probably doesn’t help his case or ease Thomas’ nerves at all “A little sympathy would be nice.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” Jefferson says, and while the statement itself is harsh, Alexander sees the way the other man softens around his edges, his voice low and disappointed above all else.

Hamilton sighs, and he remembers how painfully breathing is at the moment. “Thomas, please can you just-” he runs a hand wearily over his face. “Please, just call James, or Laf, see if anyone has any information about where they might have taken him. Please.”

Thomas looks like he wants to say more but at the same times knows that it would be worthless to try and convince him any further. “Okay” he whispers, standing from the couch. Instantly Alexander misses his presence.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes while Hamilton fights very hard against his bruised and battered brain to stay conscious. Jefferson returns with a glass of water and that same troubled, disappointed expression. Alexander shuts his eyes tight to hide himself from its gravity. He so tired of disappointing Thomas, after this he swears he’s going to do better.

“Here-” Jefferson presses the glass into his hand as he settles down beside him on the couch once more. Hamilton takes it and gulps it down greedily. “Laf says they’re caravan is already two days into the desert.” his heart plummets “But there’s a plane scheduled to drop off supplies, it leaves from the airport one town over.”

Alexander quickly finishes the water, resisted the urge to lick the remaining drops from the side of the cup, and sets it down on the end table. “Alright then let’s go.” he makes to stand, but Thomas wraps a hand around his forearm and pulls him back down.

“The plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning” he tells him, and again fingers thread affectionately through his hair. Alexander preens under the touch even though he knows he doesn’t deserve to. “It doesn’t leave until morning Alex, please just- rest. Just a few minutes okay?”

Be better, Hamilton tells himself as Jefferson’s imploring gaze engulfs him. Stop hurting him, be worthy of that look. God he wants to be, be a better man for Thomas’ sake.

He gives a vague little nod, allowing Jefferson to guide him down gently until his head is resting on his lap. The fingers stroking his hair are kind and familiar, a mercy Thomas isn’t obligated to show him but Alexander will take it. He’s been so starved for him since they’ve been apart. He glances up at him and all his goodness and unfathomable patience, then looks down at his left hand. The homely gold band still shines dully on his third finger and Alexander hopes that that means as much to Thomas as it does to him.  Slowly, Hamilton reaches over and takes Jefferson hand in his own, rolling the band gently between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m sorry” he mutters.

Sorry for putting Thomas out like this. Sorry for getting him involved, once again, in his mess of a life. He’s sorry that he’s not the man Thomas expected, or the one he deserves.

“I know.” Thomas says softly in return.

With Jefferson’s hand in his Hamilton promises to himself to do better, to really, truly try. This grand adventure will be his last one, no matter what. He’s choosing Thomas this time, for better or worse.

Too Long [Jason Dilaurentis]

Fandom: Pretty Little Liars

Character: Jason Dilaurentis x reader

Word Count: 2,907

Triggers: Smut

Needed to write about Jason because 1) He’s so hot 2) I love him and 3) This man needs more imagines! Hope you enjoy x

Requests are open so feel free to request away: 

It was a well known fact that Noel Kahn threw the best parties in Rosewood. As soon as Alison Dilaurentis had told the group it was obvious that you would all be attending - no one ever said no to Allie.

“Are you really going to wear that Hanna?” Alison questioned sweetly, her head tilted to the side as she watched Hanna try on a tight green dress.

Hanna looked down at her figure, her face falling as she glanced back up at Alison, “Why? Does it look bad?”

“It looks great.” You cut in before Alison could say anything.

“Thanks.” Hanna grinned while Alison glared at you.

Your relationship with Alison was definitely strange. You had know Allie, Aria, Hanna, Spencer and Emily forever. Alison had formed your friendship group at the beginning of high school; she was the glue that held everyone together, however she sometimes was the very weapon that destroyed us. You knew that Alison loved you all but the things she said to you all sometimes could cut like a knife. That was the thing about Alison, she could either make or break you.

“Allie?” A voice called from outside the door of Alison’s bedroom.

“Ugh, what does he want?” Alison scoffed under her breath as she made her way across the room to her bedroom door. She swung the door open, revealing Jason Dilaurentis, her older brother, “What?”

Jason rolled his eyes at his sister’s annoyed tone, “Are you going to that party tonight?”

“Maybe.” Alison smirked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jason snapped, “Me and the guys are going to so I’ll give you a lift.”

“You and the guys?” Alison repeated, her eyebrows rising in interest.

“Yeah, Ian and Garrett are coming over in a minute, so hurry up.” Jason sighed frustratedly.

His eyes fell on you and you looked away quickly; embarrassed that you had been caught watching him. You had always had a crush on Jason despite the fact that he was a few years older than you. There was just something about him that drew you in; you didn’t know if it was his rebel without a cause attitude or his deep brown eyes that seemed to stare right through you. All you did know was that your crush was definitely unrequited; he probably only saw you as Alison’s little minion, which brought you to the next point - Allie would roast you alive if you ever got with Jason. She had made it very clear that she would not accept any of her friends pursuing Jason; Alison was always weirdly possessive over Jason.

“What are you staring at?” Alison snapped.

“Nothing.” Jason mumbled distractedly, “Just be ready in five.”

* * *

Looks like someone is finally going to get Noel Khan’s attention tonight.” Alison smirked at you as you were walking down the staircase and into the kitchen.


“Relax, I won’t tell anyone.” Alison said sincerely, entwining your hands, “I’m just saying you look hot. Like really hot.” She reassured me.

You couldn’t help but smile at her; choosing to let the Noel Khan comment slip. It was moment like this that you remembered why you loved Allie. No matter how horrible she could be sometimes, she had moments where she was kind and sweet. You knew Allie would do anything for you, she was fiercely protective and always looked out for you.

“She’s right.” Emily called from behind you, “That dress looks amazing.”

You smiled at your friend, fingering the silky velvet material of your red dress. It was bolder than the dresses you usually wore but you had to admit you felt good in it; it hugged you in all the right places and the short skirt made your legs appear longer than they actually were. You had paired it with a pair of black thigh high boots that Aria had insisted you borrow.

“Alright Emily, don’t get a crush now.” Alison sniggered, smiling sweetly at Emily over her shoulder. Emily grimaced, slowing down slightly so she was no longer walking behind you.

“What was that about?” You questioned in confusion.

“Nothing.” Alison replied, squeezing your hand gently.

“Well it’s about time!” Ian yelled in mock distress as you all piled into the kitchen. Ian and Garrett were leaning against the counters, cans of beer in their hands. Your eyes flickered to Jason who had his back turned, in the process of opening a beer himself. Ian quickly greeted you, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before he moved on to Spencer.

“Weren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Melissa tonight?” Spencer questioned suspiciously.

Ian only laughed, “I couldn’t let my boys down now could I?”

“Plus Ian can never miss a good party.” Jason sniggered as he turned around.

He went to raise the beer to his lips, however his movements stilled when his eyes fell on you. His eyes seemed to darken, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed hard. You stared back at him, your cheeks heating up despite the voice in your head insisting you had just imagined the lustful look he had just given you.

“You guys want some beer?” Garrett offered, pointing at the crate of open cans.

“Yes.” Alison answered immediately.

“Allie, we’re underaged.” Spencer protested as Alison waltzed over to the cans of beer.

“Oh come on Spencer, don’t be such a party pooper.” Alison scoffed, tossing her mane of golden hair over her shoulder, “Just have a drink.”

“Why do I feel like tonight is not going to end well?” Spencer whispered beside you.

* * *

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. The car journey had seemed to take forever. You had been squeezed between Jason and Emily, your bare leg flushed against his own and your hands occasionally brushing as you passed around Ian’s hip flask of whiskey. You and the girls had quickly succumbed to the peer pressure of drinking; coming to the conclusion that you would all watch out for each other if one of the group got to drunk.

Your bets were on Aria. She was definitely the biggest lightweight.

“Come on ladies,” Ian yelled over the loud music, “Let’s dance.”

You watched as Ian grabbed Allie’s hand; both of them running to the dancefloor. You averted your eyes quickly as they began grinding. You couldn’t help but wondering if there was something going on between Allie and Ian, he had been around the Dilaurentis home a lot more recently, not to mention the fact that they were almost having sex on the dancefloor right now.

“Look at them!” Spencer growled, her eyes fixed on Alison and Ian.

“I’m sorry Spence.” You sighed, “It’s not fair on Melissa.”

Spencer looked down, her face unreadable, “Yeah, it’s not.”

“Come on, let’s get a drink.” Aria sighed before leading us through the dancing crowd. You glanced over your shoulder, stupidly searching for Jason, only to see him walking in the opposite direction with Garrett, a cigarette in his hand.

You quickly shook off your disappointment, it was stupid of you to think he would want to spend time with you. You tried to forget about him and instead focused on having fun with your friends. You took shots and danced; allowing yourself to get lost in the music as you grew more and more intoxicated.

“So…” Aria drawled as you were pouring some vodka and coke for you both, “You and Noel huh?”

“What?” You snorted, spilling the coke slightly as you laughed.

“You don’t like him?” Aria guessed.

You shook your head, “No.”

“What about Jason?” Aria pressed.

You froze, your eyes going wide as you slammed down the bottle of coke. You looked at Aria only to see that she was smiling knowingly.

“Is it that obvious?” You groaned, hiding your face with you hands.

“No!” Aria reassured you, pushing your hands away so that she could look at you, “I just know you. I see the way you look at him; hell I see the way he looks at you. You always act so awkward around each other, it’s almost uncomfortable how obvious it is that you both want to rip each other’s clothes off.” Aria giggled at your red face, “It’s alright. I won’t tell Allie.”

You sighed with relief, moving forward to hug your tiny friend, “Thank you.”

A few hours had passed and you were currently searching for your friends. You had gone to the bathroom a few minutes ago and when you had come back they were nowhere to be found. You were in the middle of ringing Spencer when someone cleared their throat behind you.

You turned around to see Jason behind you, leaning against a tree with a cigarette in his hand. You took a moment to appreciate how good he looked; his dark green shirt tight in all the right places, his golden hair windswept and the delicious stubble shadowing his prominent jaw line.

“You ok?” He asked after a moment of just staring at each other.

You nodded and joined him against the tree trunk so he could hear you over the music, “Yeah, I’ve just lost the girls. I was just about to call them.”

“I think I saw them over by the drinks table before.” Jason stated before he took another drag of his cigarette, “My sisters still with Ian.”

“Really?” You grimaced when you noticed his dark expression.

“I tried to find her earlier but she’s disappeared, as usual.” Jason sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Hey, I’ll help you find her.” I offered.

Jason smirked, “And miss the party?”

“I’m sure I can spare a few minutes.” You teased playfully.

Jason smiled at you, the corners of his lips tilting up boyishly as he pushed himself away from the tree trunk. He moved closer to you, bowing his head slightly so that his face was inches away from you. Your heart stuttered in your chest, your head going blurry at the close proximity and the smell of his aftershave and tobacco.

“If you’re sure.” Jason smirked before he moved away, grabbing your hand and leading you outside.

* * *

Milkshakes are not better than coffee!” Jason exclaimed for the fifth time.

“Of course they are!” You protested, “How can they not be?”

“Coffee is the best thing to ever be invented.”

You and Jason had been talking about everything and anything for the past hour you had been searching for Allie. You had walked a good few streets, occasionally calling Allie’s name before continuing with whatever topic of conversation you were discussing at the time. Throughout the hour you had both moved closer and closer to each other, so close that every now and then your hands brushed. You knew it was wrong - Allie would kill you if she knew you were alone with Jason, but at the moment you didn’t care, you were enjoying his company too much.

“You cold?” Jason questioned when he noticed you shivering.

You shrugged, “Yeah, this dress wasn’t exactly built to be warm.” You joked.

Jason touched your hand and stopped walking. You watched as he shrugged off his leather jacket; moving closer to you so he could drape it over your shoulders. You stilled when he was inches away from you, his hands on your shoulders.


His lips were on yours in seconds, the kiss fervent and hungry. His hands moved from your shoulders to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him before he slid his hands through your hair. You succumbed to your desire, forgetting all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. You kissed him back passionately, your hands moving to his shoulders as you fell into his body. You continued to kiss, getting lost in each other entirely; your hands all over each other, biting exposed skin and gripping at each others hair. You were two bombs who had finally exploded.

“Jesus, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Jason murmured against the skin of your neck as he backed you up against a nearby tree. You were hidden away from everyone, your kissing figures protected by the cluster of trees around you. “Do you know how often I thought about kissing you. Every time you would come around, looking so damn beautiful.” His hands skimmed the hem of your dress, rubbing the skin, “And tonight, when I saw you in this dress,” His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, “Jesus, I thought you were trying to kill me.”

You were dizzy with passion as you continued to kiss him, your hands knotted in his hair, tugging slightly and causing groans to escape his lips.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” You admitted against his lips, “I thought I was delusional for ever thinking that anything could happen between us.”

“How could I not like you Y/N?” Jason laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear affectionately, “I like you. I like you a fucking lot.”

You smiled like an idiot, pulling his face back to yours. You gasped when you felt his warm hands slide between your thighs, his hand teasing you over the fabric of your underwear. You moaned at the sensation, burying your face in his neck as he continued his movements, his mouth nibbling at your earlobe.

“Jason, what about Allie?” You panted, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his hand slide into the waistband of your underwear.

“Screw Allie.” Jason growled, “She doesn’t have the right to keep us away from each other.

A cry sounded from your lips as his fingers entered you. His lips were at your neck, biting and sucking at the exposed skin. You squirmed and let out another moan as he curled his fingers inside of you, a shiver of pleasure running through you.

“You’re so wet.” He moaned huskily. “I just want to eat you all up.”

You watched as Jason kneeled down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. He moved your underwear to the side before he buried his face in your legs. You clutched at the bark of the tree, your body jolting as his tongue swirled around your clit painfully slow. He teased you for a while, forcing desperate moans from your lips before he delved deeper, his tongue moving mercilessly against you. You convulsed against him, a moaning mess as you came.

He got back to his feet, his arms encircling you as he kissed your forehead.

“You ok?” He whispered against your hair.

“God yes.” You whimpered, snuggling against him, “More than ok.”

You captured his lips again, your fingers moving to the bottom of his t-shirt. You lifted it over his head, admiring the sculpted muscles of his chest. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it as you worked on unbuckling his belt. Jason backed you up against the tree once again, a groan escaping his lips as you pressed yourself against him.

“Fuck me Jason.” You moaned against his lips, “God you have to fuck me right now.”

He kissed you passionately, his body shuddering slightly as he trapped you in his arms, hands either side of your head. He pulled away, rummaging around in the pocket of his jeans that had fallen to the floor. He found the condom that was in his pocket, putting it on him quickly before he moved close to you once again.

“Are you sure about this?” He questioned after a few minutes of kissing you.

You nodded, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

He smiled and hoisted your leg around his hip. He slid into you, causing you to gasp as you felt him stretch you out. He was bigger than anyone you had ever experienced so it took you a while to adjust to him. Your hands dug into his shoulders, small wails sounding from your lips as he started to move faster. His lips and hands were everywhere, relieving all the pent up frustration from the months of holding back. He moved faster as your moans grew louder, his hips pounding into you as he forced your hands behind your head.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his head resting against yours as his hands tangled in your head.

“Oh God Jason!” You practically squealed as he hit a particular spot. You convulsed against him once again, moaning and cursing under your breath as you fell into him, your head fuzzy as you came. He continued to move fluidly, riding you through you hair before he stuttered, throwing his head back as he came. He swore and pulled out of you, his head still resting against your own as he engulfed you in his arms. You both fell to the floor, Jason pulling on his pants before he handed you his jacket once again.

“Holy shit.” Was all he could say.

“Yeah.” You agreed breathlessly.

His lips pressed against your forehead, “You do realise I’m definitely not letting you go now right?” He wrapped his arm around you, “I’ve waited too long for you to lose you after one night.”

You snuggled into him, a huge smile crossing your lips, “I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

“Good, and don’t worry about Alison, I’ll deal with her.” Jason reassured you, “Now come on, let’s go back home, I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Iron Man & Mrs. King (1/?)

Pairing: Tony x Reader
Word Count: 1128
Warnings: Domestic Abuse (more explicit in later chapters), fluff, some swearing. JARVIS is still an AI, Bucky is part of the team. 

Chapters post on Mondays and Thursdays.

7:00am, Monday morning

Y/N stepped out of the elevator into one of the biggest messes she had ever seen. She sighed as she took in the hundreds of empty cups littering the floor alongside streamers and who knows what else.

“Greetings, Mrs. King.” A soft, British male voice said. Y/N looked around but didn’t see anyone.

“Hello?” She called out tentatively.

“Good morning,” the voice said. “My name is JARVIS.”

“Good morning, Jarvis,” Y/N replied politely. “Um, w-where are you?”

“I am Mr. Stark’s personal assistant, of sorts. I’m an artificial intelligence system and I run this building.”

“Oh,” Y/N said rather dumbly. “Cool. Should I look in any particular direction to address you or are you just kind of… everywhere? And, um, does JARVIS stand for something?”

“I am, as you say, everywhere. And JARVIS stands for Just Another Rather Very Intelligent System.”

Y/N giggled, “That seems to fit your very well JARVIS.”

“Thank you, Mrs. King.” JARVIS replied. “Mr. Stark is unfortunately indisposed this morning and will not be able to attend your interview, but I have reviewed your files and am authorized to hire you. And I regret to inform you that you have your work cut out for you.”

“Indeed I do, JARVIS.” Y/N sighed. “Well, how about we take it one room at a time and you can direct me as needed. Alright?”

“Very well, Mrs. King.”

Y/N set down her purse and rolled up the sleeves of her button up work shirt, being careful not to push them too high, just in case someone came in while she was working. JARVIS directed her around the residence floor of the tower, showing her where all the cleaning supplies were stored and how to activate the automatic cleaners already installed in the building. Small robots that acted as vacuum cleaners, dusters, even a robot that went around making sure everything hung on the walls was straight.

“JARVIS,” Y/N paused while walking down a hallway, “why does Mr. Stark even need a housekeeper when he has you and all this technology?”

“I am capable of many things, Mrs. King, and Mr. Stark has created many other machines to take care of the house, but there are some things that require, shall we say, a woman’s touch and thoughtfulness that my systems are not capable of.”

“I see.” Y/N nodded and continued walking down the hallway. “I guess that makes sense.”  

The rest of the morning was spent learning how to direct the many machines to clean the ballroom and other unoccupied rooms of the main resident floor of the tower. JARVIS directed her from room to room, avoiding the bedrooms until tomorrow. The last thing she needed on her first day of work is to deal with a hungover Tony Stark.

Once all the rooms where clean, except for the bedrooms, she made a pot of coffee and a plate full of bacon for when everyone woke. She also put together a quick chicken casserole and gave JARVIS instructions on baking it whenever anyone was ready to eat. Based on the mess from the party, she guessed they would have some impressive hangovers.  It was nearly 4:30pm by the time she left the tower.

5:00pm, Monday afternoon

Tony stumbled into the kitchen, following his nose to the coffee pot and finding a plate full of crispy bacon next to it. He poured coffee into his Iron Man mug and grabbed a handful of bacon. It was the perfect remedy for his hangover. Last night’s party had been impressive, even for the great Tony Stark. He didn’t remember all of it, but based on his headache, it must have been spectacular.

Settling on a stool at the counter, he leaned his forehead on his palm. Taking a deep breath, he asked Jarvis for a rundown of the damage done at the party and the state of the ballroom. The damage was minimal but the ballroom had already been cleaned. Tony didn’t remember asking Jarvis to take care of that and simply assumed that he did it when he was drunk. Thanking the AI, he refilled his coffee, grabbed another handful of bacon.

Steve and Bucky walked in, one right behind the other, looking way too fresh given how much they drank last night.

“How’s the head, Tony?” Steve asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Delightful.” Tony replied. “Thanks for cooking bacon though.”

“We didn’t cook it.” Bucky replied, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his large chest.

“Who did then?” Tony asked. “Who else is awake?”

“I don’t know who cooked it.” Steve said. “Clint and Nat left already, Sam is still sleeping and Buck and I have been downstairs in the gym all afternoon.”

“JARVIS,” Tony called. “Who cooked bacon this morning?”

“Mrs. King, Sir.”

The three men paused, each wracking their brains trying to figure out if they should know who Mrs. King was. Three shrugs later, Tony raised his voice again.

“Who is Mrs. King, JARVIS?”

“Your new housekeeper.” JARVIS replied.

“What happened to Mrs. Tumbleweed?” Tony asked.

“Treaklehorn.” Bucky corrected.

“Trimblefoot?” Steve questioned.

“Mrs. Trickelbank resigned, Sir.” JARVIS answered.

“Oh, and you hired a new housekeeper? When did that happen?”

“This morning, Sir.”

“Oh,” Tony took a bite of bacon. “Well done, JARVIS.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You two didn’t see anyone when you went downstairs?” He asked Bucky and Steve.

“Nope, but we heard the vacuums going in the ballroom, she must have been in there.” Bucky replied.

The three men dispersed to their own corners of the tower. Tony went in search of those little red pills Bruce had given him for hangovers and then went back to bed.

8:00pm, Still Monday

Tony woke slowly, testing the pain level of his head. Finding it tolerable, he got out of bed and stumbled into a hot shower. Dry and dressed, he made his way to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling.

“JARVIS,” he mumbled. “Where is everyone? Do we have any food?”

“Everyone has gone out for the evening. I took the liberty of baking your dinner when you woke up. It’s ready to come out of the oven now.”

“Oh, thanks.” Tony opened the oven and the heavenly scent of chicken and stuffing wafted out. “Wait. JARVIS, who put this together? Last time I checked, I hadn’t given you hands yet.”

“Mrs. King, Sir.”

“Right. Remind me to meet her, JARVIS.” Tony plated the hot food and carefully took a bite. It was heaven in his mouth. The perfect meal post hangover. He grabbed his plate and headed toward his lab to get ready to leave for a mission at 6am the next morning.

Part 2 coming on Thursday 8/3/17.

Taglist is open!:  @feelmyroarrrr @smilexcaptainx @southernbellestatues @emmkolenn @babybrreena ; @earinafae @writingwithadinosaur @alyssaj23 @tomorraw @psychicwitchphilosopher @wonders-of-the-enterprise @scarlettsage77 @cinema212 @mo320 @50shadesofyes @medicatemedrmccoy @lookatmysarcasm @yourtropegirl @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @buckyappreciationsociety

99 Problems (2/?)

         Summary : You are an agent that worked alongside the Avengers , with an unusually close friendship with Captain Rogers. What happened when he reveals his true feelings for you before you leave on an undercover mission?  By the time you return from the mission, you’ve missed the events of Civil War.  What happens when you come home and most of your friends are gone? And when they return?

Pairings :  No official pairings yet, but Steve Rogers x reader, Johnny Storm x reader, Tony stark x reader, avengers x reader.

Warnings : swearing, angst,tiny bit of fluff

Italics are memories , & bold is the readers thoughts

                                                   Chapter 2

Johnny doesn’t ask any questions, just holds you hand as the elevator descends. As soon as you’re both out in the cool New York air, your demeanor shifts from gloomy to devious. You turn, sending Johnny a smirk.

“Let’s get this party started, Sparky!“ You excitedly say as you approach is motorcycle. He chuckles, following you and hands you a helmet. You slip it over your head and speed off.

  Johnny takes you to the bar you both usually go to when you have a night out, Night Owl. You always laugh at the lame name but the bar is always fun with him. As you head in, you notice it’s more busy than usual. You eye the bodies on the dance floor, watching the way they move together so sexually. Jesus, do they know they are in public? Johnny pulls you towards the bar, starting your night off with five shots of Tequila.

   Drinks keep showing up in front of you, either from guys sending them over or Johnny being a little shit and telling the bartender to keep them coming. Damn it, Storm. Before you know it, you completely bypass the tipsy stage and land right in the drunk zone. The bar keeps filling with people, pushing you closer to Johnny. He slides his arm around your waist keeping you anchored at his side so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. As you both down another shot, the song switches to something familiar. You can’t remember the name but the beat grabs your attention. You turn to Johnny, trailing your hand over his chest. He raises his eyebrow at you but doesn’t stop your antics.

Originally posted by chrisandchips

“What do you say Storm, you up for a dance?” He laughs, grabbing your hand and guiding you through the crowd to the center of the dance floor. He pulls your body against his, leaving no space. You gasp as your chest pushes against his as his hands grip your waist. You both begin moving to the music, your bodies moving in sync with each other. You whirl your body around, pressing your back to his chest. You think you hear a moan from him but you ignore it, starting to grind your ass against him to the music. His grip tightens on your hips and he moves his mouth to your ear, sending chills down your spine when he grazes it.

Originally posted by pleasingpics

“I didn’t know you liked dancing, babe,” he says into your ear. You lean your head back against his shoulder and place your hand over one of his at your waist, pushing you against him harder. You can feel his clearly hard dick pressing into your ass and this time the moan comes from you. You dance against him for a few songs until you’re both over heated.

He leads you back to the bar and orders the both of you waters as you check your phone, not believing how late it is.

“Johnny, it’s 2am already!” you tell him as he hands you your water. He sends you a smirk then downs his water.

“You ready to get out of here, princess?” You roll your eyes at the pet name.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You head out, but when the cold air hits you both you realize how drunk you are. There’s no way Johnny can drive a motorcycle now.

“Alright, let’s find a cab,” you sigh, but he grabs your hand stopping you.

“Orrrrrrrr we can walk back my place and just stay there tonight.” He points his thumb over his shoulder and you can see the Baxter building (Home of the Fantastic 4) within walking distance.

“Fine, but you’re giving me a piggyback ride, human douche.” Your tone is nothing but playful. Johnny crouches down and you jump onto his back. He starts walking towards his building as you rest your head against his.

Originally posted by selena91lorena

“You know, when we get home you can have a different kind of ride.” You giggle then flick his ear.

“Behave yourself, Storm. Or I’m going to stay with Ben, ” you threaten. Johnny scoffs and mumbles to himself. His and Ben’s relationship is a bit rocky. No pun intended. He teases Ben about being ‘The Thing’ and his orange, stoney appearance constantly. Their friendship consists of pranks, arguments, and sometimes loving moments. You get along with the entire team: Ben, Sue Storm-Richards, and Reed Richards. They’re just like a slightly altered version of your Avenger family.

When you guys finally get up to his floor, he sets you down. You both go straight to his room, exhaustion from the night setting in. He goes in his draws, flinging a pair of flannel pants and a black t-shirt at you. He grabs clothes for himself and stays facing away from you to change. You blush when he takes off his shirt, quickly turning to give him the same privacy he gave you. You begin changing, pulling his shirt over your head, and as you go to step into the pants you hear a long whistle come from behind you. You snap your head up, catching Johnny’s eyes trailing over you panty-clad ass.

“So that’s what was pressing against me… can’t say I imagined anything less perfect.” You blush and pull up the pants and flick him off. You both fall into his bed, moaning as your bodies hit the mattress. He shuts his lights off and turns his body away from you. As you’re about to fall asleep, his voice startles you.

“Aren’t you going to be the big spoon?” You laugh but move you body to his. You wrap your arms around his waist, curving your body flush against his.

“Goodnight, princess,” you whisper. He begins to reply but you nuzzle your face into his back and pass out.

Originally posted by shipsmania

  When you both wake up the next morning, you go to the bar to retrieve his bike and he takes you back to the tower. You leave him with a kiss on the cheek before walking towards the doors. You hear footsteps nearing you and familiar voices appear with them. They would be getting back at the same damn time. What did I do to deserve this? Bucky, Steve and Sam join you while you’re waiting for the elevator. You look to all of them, taking in their sweaty, hot as hell appearance. Damn it Y/n, stop it. You’re mad at him, stop ogling his sweaty, beautiful body. You shake out of your mind when the elevator dings and you all file in. You stay towards the front as they stand behind you.

“Walk of Shame, Y/n?” Sam playfully asks as he pokes your side.

“Don’t be jealous Sammy, I still have enough attention for you babe.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush. Bucky smiles, watching the interaction, but Steve just glares at your clothes.

Originally posted by hopeinloveinfinity

“Besides, can’t be a walk of shame if nothing scandalous happened, Wilson.” The elevator dings on your floor and you walk out of the elevator and straight to your room. You flop into your bed, thoughts of Steve swirling around. A knock on your door saves you from your own mind.

“It’s open,” you say, leaning up on your elbows. Wanda enters, still in her pajamas.

"Did you just get home?” she asks as she lays next to you.

“Yeah, I ended up crashing at Johnny’s last night. It was closer the bar we went to.”

“So that man, Johnny Storm, is he your boyfriend?” she questions hesitantly. You snort at her assumption.

“No, he’s just a friend. I was going to introduce you but I just - I needed to get out of here last night…“

"I understand, but aren’t you going to at least talk to Steve. Y/n, he-”

“Kissed another woman after telling me he loves me. I don’t care what he has to say Wanda, he actions say everything.” You both go silent, neither of you know what to say now.

“You up for breakfast?” she breaks the silence.

“Hell yeah! I’m going to change real quick then let’s go make some waffles!” You leap out of your bed and switch Johnny’s pajamas for your own. You tug on your pajama shorts and your usual sleep shirt. It was a navy blue Brooklyn shirt Steve gave to you a while ago. You sigh, grabbing Wanda’s hand and dragging her to the kitchen. You both shuffle around, grabbing all the ingredients for waffles. You have FRIDAY play music and you both start dancing as you cook. You end up with four giant plates stacked with waffles.

Originally posted by bethesong

“FRIDAY, alert the team there is waffle please.” The AI does as you ask and soon the kitchen is buzzing with conversation between the team. You all sit around the table eating and laughing. You hear the elevator door ding.

“Honey, I’m home!” Johnny? You abandon your waffles and meet him halfway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Maybe I missed you.” You fake gag at him. He laughs then pulls your phone from his pocket and hands it to you.

“Figured this wouldn’t be any good to you from my apartment.” How did I forget my phone? You wrap your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

“You’re a lifesaver, Johnny. I don’t care what your sister says about you,” you joke. He rolls his eyes, but before he can make a retort you ask if he wants to join you for breakfast.

“No, my sister needs me to try out a theory Reed has about my powers. I just didn’t want you to be phoneless.”

  “Don’t set anyone on fire this time, alright?” you warn, remembering the last time he was testing his flames with Reed. Before you sit down, a hand swats your ass. And not just any hand, a burning hand.

 “Ow! Damn it, Johnny! That the third pair of shorts!” You fan the smoke from his handprint seared into your shorts. Johnny is already running out of the kitchen but you chuck a waffle at his head, successfully (but barely) hitting the back of his head.

“Bye guys!” he yells from the elevator. You roll your eyes and sit back down. When you look up, all eyes are on you. Questioning looks and smirks are all you see.

“You and Hot Head, huh?” Clint asks as he stuffs a waffle In his mouth.

Originally posted by fanfic-shiz

“It’s not like that. Johnny just - he’s a good friend. What was I supposed to do? You all left. I’m way too needy and Tony wasn’t giving me enough attention.” you shrug, receiving laughs from them. Steve looks slightly relieved, making you angry. What right does he have? Shouldn’t he be screwing Sharon by now? Wanda shoots you a glare as she hears your thoughts. You send her a ‘whoops’ face. You volunteer to do dishes, so as everyone leaves you begin gathering the plates.

“Let me help.” Captain Manners always trying to help a damsel. You roll your eyes at the offer.

“I’m a big girl, I think I can handle doing the dishes alone, Steve.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying you don’t have to.” You sigh, dropping the plates angrily into the sink.

“Steve, just stop. Stop doing whatever you’re trying to do.” You lean yourself against the counter across from him.

Originally posted by 23onetreehill12

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just let me explain Y/n, it’s not-”

“You don’t need to. I wasn’t your girlfriend, you can kiss whoever you want Rogers. I’m not your fucking keeper,” you spit out. He moves forward, caging you between his arms and the counter. Your eyes go wide as you look to his.

"How are you so fucking hard headed!?”

“It’s a gift, really.” you sass back. You see a mischievous look flash in his eyes. Oh boy, what is he up to?

  “Fine, you said I could kiss whoever I want?” You raise your eyebrow at him, not understanding what his angle is. His hand moves to cradle your cheek, pulling your face closer to his. For a second, you let the feeling of missing him get the best of you but then you snap out of it. As his lips are about to touch yours, you place both hands on his chest and push him back.

Originally posted by never-let-that-go-hold-on-that

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His mouth opens but you aren’t about to listen to his shit.

 "You really are something else, Steve Rogers. You think after telling me you love me and kissing someone else, you can just waltz back in here, kiss me and everything will be alright?“ you yell. You didn’t notice Bucky and Sam re-enter the kitchen.


“No! Fuck you, Steve. You were my best friend. I was content with being just that. You’re the one that told me you love me, you’re the one that kissed me, you’re the one that chose to kiss Sharon Fucking Carter. Not only did you just lose my respect, but you lost our friendship.” You storm past Bucky and Sam.

“I hope she was worth it!” you yell over your shoulder.

  You stay in your room for most of the afternoon, the mornings events on repeat in your head. You called Johnny right after leaving Steve in the kitchen and told him what happened. He offered to set Steve’s motorcycle on fire, but you declined (even though you both knew you wanted to say yes). Now you’re just staring at your ceiling, debating what to do with the rest of the day. FRIDAY’s voice appears, making you squeal from the shock.

“Agent Y/n, your presence is being requested in the communal kitchen in five minutes for a team meeting.” A meeting in the kitchen? What’s the point in having a conference/meeting room, Stark? Whatever.

“FRIDAY, what is the meeting concerning?” “I’m not at liberty to say but Secretary Ross will be attending.” Ross. Oh this is going to be a blast.

  Since the events resulting from the Accords, you’ve been itching to get your hands on Ross. The man chased after an innocent man, imprisoned your friends, and while containing them he mistreated them, mainly Wanda. Anger swims through your body at the thought of Wanda being restrained and, from what you hear, muzzled for awhile. You get up, changing out of your pajamas into your usual ripped jeans and a tee. You grab one of your throwing knives from your drawer and hide it in your back pocket. Never know what can happen.

  You leave your room and head to the kitchen ready to rip Ross apart. You enter the kitchen, keeping your face emotionless, and see the rest of the team is already present. Everyone seems tense which is understandable.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get started!” Tony says, clapping his hands together. Ross steps forward now, a stern look on his features

. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet in the kitchen. I wanted a less… stressful mood and the conference room didn’t seem to give that.” You roll your eyes but continue listening. “I’m here to discuss the return of the team. Since you’re in the states now you have rules to follow.” He pulls out a few papers and places his glasses on.

“Rule number one: Barnes is not to attend missions alone. We cannot risk him compromising a mission if something triggers his…other personality.” He is really going to single Bucky out? This sounds like a different form of Accords. You release a dry laugh, pulling his eyes to yours. As you go to open your mouth, it seems Steve beats you to it.

“Even after everything, after proving Bucky is innocent, you have the nerve to make rules against him?” You can tell by his tone and the way his hands are fisted at his side that he’s barely containing his anger. And the show begins. Get him, Rogers.

Originally posted by stallingdemons

  “He’s a risk, Rogers. Anything could set him off. You’re biased when it comes to this, don’t you think?” Ross argues, pulling another laugh from you.

 "Is something funny, Agent?“ You smile.

"You think Steve is bias then what about me? I don’t even know him.” You look to Bucky, then continue, “You have to nerve to single out Barnes after he was wrongly accused in the first place? His mind was cleared of the trigger words, so what’s the problem? He is a war hero and a victim. We should be helping him, not singling him out and excluding him. That rule is such bull sh-”

“Y/n-” Steves captain voice sends chills through you. Fuck, I love when he uses that voice. Damn it, focus. How is he managing to stay level headed? I don’t even fucking know Barnes and I’m about to explode for him. You send Steve a look silently telling him now isn’t the time to hold back.

Originally posted by msdevindanielle

He appears to get your message, his posture gets even straighter as he confronts Ross. “She’s right, you’re making it sound like the tiniest thing is going to set him off. The doctors worked incredibly hard to make sure that doesn’t happen. The chances of him slipping are barely higher than any of ours. So why don’t you take these rules and rethink them before you step into our home and demand such offensive things, Secretary,” Steve says, holding Ross’s attention. 

  You move, standing next to Steve, arms crossed over your chest. Even though you are still sticking to what you said earlier about the friendship being gone, you have to stick by him to protect Bucky.

  “You heard the Captain. Pack your papers up, the doors that way.” You point in the direction of the elevators. Ross seems to snap.

 "Control your girlfriend, Rogers, before she gets herself into trouble.” He turns to glare at you. “Do I need to remind you that you didn’t sign the Accords either, Y/n? You should have been thrown in jail with the rest of them.“ That’s it, gloves are off. You slam your hands against the table,

 "What are you going to do Ross, put me in restraints and muzzle me like you did to Wanda? Or let your guards throw me around like they did to Sam? These rules are shit. Who are you make these? I don’t see you out there risking your ass to save the world, so why don’t you take your rules and shove them up your ass."  You turn to leave but Ross starts up again.

"They broke the law, they deserved to be there. Being heroes doesn’t exclude you from following laws. Restraining Miss Maximoff was a necessary precaution, she is a danger-” You whip yourself around, throwing your knife and embedding it the wall next to Ross’s head. Everyone’s eyes are wide. Steve is behind you within seconds, his arm around your waist pulling you back. You glance over your team, taking in the tears in Wanda’s eyes and what you think to be a look of gratefulness on Bucky’s face.

 “Calm down, don’t give him the satisfaction, Doll.”  Steve says, is lips close to your ear. You feel his grip tightening like he knows you’re going to lunge. You know the action wasn’t meant to be so intimate, it was suppose to stop you killing Ross; but Steve made it seem a lot more than that. You feel him move closer to your ear again, but you shoulders tense at the action and you push out of his grip. Because that didn’t feel weird. His words calm you, but not enough.

Originally posted by couplenotes

“I’m not going to warn you again. Take your papers and get out,” you growl. Ross leaves the papers on the table but moves to leave.

“This isn’t over,” he threatens as he passes you. You’re damn right this isn’t over.


Originally posted by karalynward

@cashewboys @marveldcmistress @half-bloods-only @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @urpaperteen @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @skeletoresinthebasement @ladydarcyofcamelotandasgard @ogoc-pics @omgpandagirl14 @cate-lynne @hollycornish @advorepayne @dryerpet @nikasatrash @ravenclaw-geek24 @hillrich @sammnipple @elaacreditava

@maygenjayne1 @justanobody99 @owhatshername1 

anonymous asked:

Hi I want to start off by saying I love your writing/blog and I would like to request number 18 with tom please I don't really have an idea and if you are too busy and don't have an idea than just forget about don't stress yourself out over it than thank you hope you have a great day 😊

Tom x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol

Word count: 1744

Prompt: 18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

A/N: I hope you liked it, it took me quite a while and I’m sorry if it ‘s not that well-written, I kinda had writers block.

Originally posted by tomhollandhollaatme

(Idk what that part is lol, kinda like an introduction maybe)
Watching her from farther away became his only occupation when she was near him. Loving someone and knowing you can’t have her is hard for someone to handle. But even harder for someone like him, someone as sensitive and full of heart.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He looked at you with a worried expression as you surprised him by ringing his doorbell at 11:30 PM. With your head held low you stood silently in front of him.

He was one of your best friends since you two met on set of Spider-Man: Homecoming. Both of you lived in London which brought you two even closer.

“I’m sorry. No this was probably stupid, I don’t wanna bother you. Good Night.” You rambled on before starting to leave but he pulled you back at your wrist and into a tight hug.

“It’s okay. You’re never bothering me or anyone. You don’t have to talk to me about it. Come in.” You had never come to Tom with such a personal issue but the way he reacted was just utterly cute.

Tom parted from you while closing the door behind you. “Want some ice cream? Or something else? Come on we’ll get you something to eat.” Hesitantly he took a hold of you hand and lead you into his kitchen.

Swiftly he opened the huge fridge, placing you in front of it and signaling you to take whatever you wanted. He remembered how you had told him that you didn’t like just taking stuff in other people’s houses even if they told you to, so he made it very clear that he would give you anything you wanted.

“Let’s see. I’ve got some pudding right here but also yoghurt, there’s some of that leftover pizza from this evening. But-” He closed the fridge in front of you. “I’ve also got a bunch of different chocolate bars, loads of Ben & Jerry’s, um, (insert favorite flavor), your favorite flavor as I remember.”

“Ben & Jerry’s sounds good.” Sheepishly you shift from one foot to the other before speaking up once again. “Oh and I know it’s hard for you, ‘cause that is just the way you are but could you just not be all quirky? Aren’t you tired at all?” You added sadly. “I am quirky because I want to pass some happiness on to you. Package or bowl?” “Are you really asking?”

“Package it is.” Tom grabbed two packages or “cups”, however you personally call these Ben & Jerry’s ice cream packages, and two spoons before you two settle down with it on the big couch in front of his TV.

After a while of silently eating ice cream and watching some TV you suddenly began pouring your heart out, startling him a little. “He hurts me.” “What?!” “N-not physically.” Awkwardly you corrected yourself.

A sigh of relieve left his lungs. “But he, well this is probably so stupid but, every chance he gets, he discreetly drops hints that he thinks my work isn’t real work and that it’s just ridiculous. Also he complaints about my personality a lot. That I am so immature and all.

It’s like he’s not even paying attention to me sometimes.” Tom’s heart dropped, breaking in two as he listened to how her boyfriend makes Tom’s loved one suffer. Also because he knows he would make her feel so much better if she just let him. “I know this is not the right question to ask and I’m sure I know the answer but why do you stay with him?”

“Cause I love him.”

“I won’t try to convince you that that is not love but just know that that’s my opinion.” “Thank you, Tom.” A tear rolled down your cheek as he wrapped his warm arms around you.

You were planning on visiting your favorite bar today with your boyfriend, meeting Tom and Harrison along with some other friends there. It was your birthday and you didn’t feel the need to throw a big party.

“Happy Birthday!” You hear Tom’s soft voice approach from behind you. Your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you.” He handed you a small gift, wrapped in wrapping paper. Hugging him tightly you thank him once again. “It’s nothing big but I hope you still like it.”

With a smile on your face you unwrapped it when you saw Tom glaring at your boyfriend who was sitting at the bar. Your boyfriend didn’t seem to notice. 

As you looked at the small gift you laughed happily. “That is awesome!” You turned it around. It was a framed picture of you and Tom. You didn’t even know that this existed, at least you forgot. “Because you always complain about every picture, ‘cause either one of us always looks weird. I thought we both looked pretty acceptable here.” A chuckle left his lungs.

“That is literally so sweet. We really do both look cute!” A bright smile was plastered on your face. You two were sitting on the couch in one of the trailers from the Spider-Man: Homecoming set in the picture while resting your head on his shoulder.

All giddy inside you quickly peck his cheek. “Wanna go drink something?” “Sure.”  “I’ll pay.” Thomas tried insisting on it but you were faster. “My birthday, I pay.” Pouting he sat down on a barstool next to you, to your other side; your boyfriend.

As you vividly kept up a conversation he was watching the both of you. Saw you laugh at Tom’s comments the way he never made you laugh. The alcohol was starting to get to him as he stood up. “I think I’ll take it from here.”

Your boyfriend suddelny cut in pushing Tom off the stool. Tom just threw a  questioning look at you. Shrugging you watch him turn around and walk over to Haz. 

Your boyfriend mumbled something about him being ridiculous. You knew he was drunk and decided to bring him home, preventing possible negative incidents.

Quickly you said goodbye to your friends, explaining the situation.

After going home he told you how much and how fast he had actually drunk already. Slowly you dragged him into bed. He started arguing again but you cut him off by saying good night and walking out of your shared bedroom.

After a while of watching TV as he was sound asleep in the bedroom someone rang your doorbell. Again. And again. Quickly you rushed to the door. “What is it? Don’t you think once is enough?” Opening the door a heavy smell greeted you. Alcohol. And in front of you, bringing the smell to you; Tom.

“Not another drunk man I have to deal with.” Sighing you let him babble. “I-I’m sorry. I camehereto tell youthat I-I love you.” Your eyes grew wide. “I shouldn’t be in love with you. But-I-am.” He connected the words sometimes, giving you a hard time understanding the drunk man.

“I think you should, you should come inside first.” Supporting him so he wouldn’t stumble you guided him into your flat. He flopped down onto the couch in your open living space.

“Tom I need you to talk to me, are you serious?” “Yes.” Damn it, drunk boys are exhausting. “I. Love. You.” Forgetting all about your boyfriend in the bedroom you sat down next to Tom.

“I know I am currently taken but I just can’t do that anymore. I’ve been falling for you for quite the long time and-” As you realized he had fallen asleep you sighed. Not knowing what to do you just left for your own bed, where you noticed your drunk and still sleeping boyfriend again. “This is going to be hard.” Terribly sorry for one of them and madly in love with the other you tried to get some sleep.

“What the fuck is this idiot doing on our couch?!” A loud, yelling voice woke you up, leaving you completely startled. Swiftly you hopped out of bed before rushing into the main living space. Tom, just as shocked as you were, sat up on the couch.

“He was drunk and came by last night. No big deal.” “No big deal? I can’t believe you. I don’t wanna see you anymore. Leave! And if I see you one more time with her I swear to god.” Well, it was going to be even harder than expected. “Leave him alone.” You started defending Tom, who was already about to leave.

“No, no, Tom. You are not going anywhere. Come here.” You grabbed his hand, pulling the confused and hungover Tom next to you. 

“I am tired of this. Okay? I am not under your control. You do not have the right to fucking tell me what to do and complain about everything. My job, my body, my character. That is not love. Love is when you’re there for someone every time she needs you ‘cause her boyfriend is being an ass again. No matter how late it is. Love is keeping quiet about your own feelings because you think she’s happier with her own boyfriend. Love is listening to her, remembering the little things about her. Looking at her in awe when she stands in front of you with his big t-shirt on; not complaining about it. Love is the way he treats me.” You pointed at Tom. “Not you. You should be ashamed of yourself. And I swear if you go out of here worrying why I fell in love with someone else, something is clearly wrong with you.”

Both of the boys looked at you in shock, Tom giving your hand a light squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m not wanted here anymore.” Your boyfriend stated as he went to grab his shoes and jacket before storming out of the flat.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you felt somewhat relieved. “It’s okay. You know I’m here for you.” Tom pulled you into his arms, making you feel the warmth of his body. “I didn’t know you had feelings for me.” Tom whispered questioning, still holding you. “I told you yesterday but you were already asleep.” “Okay, well, um…” (This phrase is from Fifty Shades Darker ;) It’s not Tom that is referring to Fifty Shades Darker here, just me, the author, using the phrase here.)  “…generally, a key part of good communication is that both parties be concious.” “You were drunk.” “So what? You could’ve told me earlier!” Tom whines.

“Same for you, idiot.” Scoffing he looked at you. “You’re the idiot.” A sweet smile appeared on his lips as he cupped your face with his hand, bringing your lips together.

Summer Boy|| Jeon Jungkook pt.07

{pt.01, pt.02, pt.03, pt.04, pt.05, pt.06}

Jungkook x reader


Word Count: 4,883

~ Yes! This is the final chapter of Summer Boy. I just wanted to take a moment, once again, to thank anybody and everybody who had followed the story all the way to the end. You’re support has really pushed me into finishing the story, so thank you very much. Enjoy ♡


“(Y/n)! Please wait!”

I grabbed what I could find of my clothing, it was difficult with the tears in my eyes and my shaking hands. With only my denim shorts on and the rest of my clothes pressed against my naked chest. Jungkook stood in front of me, trying to get my attention but I was desperate to run. I moved away as he tried to touch my shoulder and I walked around him with unclear words leaving my mouth. I went to reach for the door as he called out for me from behind but I was startled to see the door open by Taehyung. He was taken aback with shock as I pushed gently by passing him.

  “I just have to go.”


I woke up the next afternoon in my own bedroom. Embarrassed completely by the events of last night, I had made a total fool of myself in front of everybody. I had gotten straight home and into bed, my phone laid next to me dead and I got dressed as I put it to charge. I was lost in thought replaying the night in my head when I came to realize that the house was dead silent. I know it had to be at least 11 am and yet not a single noise could be heard in the house.

I stepped out of my room, going from wood to the cold tile on my feet, I looked down the hall into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone being there but the faint smell of breakfast from probably hours ago. There were eggs on a plate with a slice of bread already cold that they must have left me. I had no appetite regardless, picked up the plate to clean it up. I suddenly remembered Coco agreeing to help the boys pack up last night during the cookout. The rest of the girls must have gone along to help. I was making my way back into my room when the back door opened loudly behind me


Keep reading

Nobody Needs to Know || Pt. 3

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 4

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Request: “please write the next chapter to nobody needs to know!!! i’m so hooked on it x”

Prompts: #38 “He better only be just a friend.”

Warnings: I honestly didn’t intend the ending to be the way it is, but I was feeling it.

A/N: I’m overjoyed at the response this got! If you like my writing, feel free to comment or go to my ask box and request something you’d want to read. I’ll probably do a part 4, as this seems to be something you guys want to continue and honestly I’m having fun writing it :) 

My requests are always open!

Tag List: @captainsuperfangirl, @kitschkylo, @imperfectanatomy, @latenightbooknerd, @keepcalmandflywithtoothless @markedbymymistakes

You aren’t sure how long you stand out there, taking strength from the friends that stayed in the cold to prepare for any outcome. What you are sure of is that Jughead watched the entire exchange, seeing him turn away through the window just as the group dispersed and started the trek to Archie’s house.

Veronica calls an emergency sleepover, and it was unanimously decided that it would be at Archie’s house. Betty’s mom didn’t like V or Archie, Veronica was almost one hundred percent sure her mom would jokingly flirt with you three to embarrass her, and having your parents ask what was wrong is exactly the conversation you did not want to have.

On the way there, everyone calls their respective parents.

“No, dad, we’re all just missing each other lately and want to spend some time at Archie’s.”

Your dad, protective and yet also thinks he’s a comedian, pretends Archie is news to him. “Who is this boy? Is he nice? He better not be ginger. Back in my day,” you groan, “they just didn’t have souls. Now I’ve heard they steal them!” He laughs, but you just roll your eyes.

“Dad, I know you know Archie. We’re walking there now, I’ll text you once we get there. His dad is there right now but I think he’s going out later, so no worries about me being unsupervised nor any jokes about being killed in my sleep by a creepy old man.”

“He’s leaving later though, huh?” You sigh, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Dad, you’ve known Archie for years. This joke isn’t funny anymore, just annoying. Actually, anymore implies it was funny the first time you did it when I was twelve. No, gingers aren’t heartless. Yes, you know Archie. He lives a block over. No, we won’t be doing any canoodling, he’s just a friend.” You hear your friends all laugh, knowing exactly what your dad is trying to pull. He’s done it to everyone. You distinctly remember him once questioning you about a “dog of a friend” sleeping in your bed, pretending as if he hadn’t just bought the family a dog the day prior.

“He better only be just a friend.”

“Goodbye, dad.”

“Night. kiddo. Have a good time. Don’t forget to let me know when you all get to Archie’s.”

“Will do.”

You send off a text to your father as you walk in the door, heading straight to the kitchen. Everyone’s stomach had growled on the walk here, making the group realize that the capital-i Incident had prevented anyone from eating a full meal.

Rummaging through Archie’s fridge, you hear the soft plunks of pillows and blankets being tossed to the floor in preparation for the sleepover.

You know the conversation that is to come. How long is it acceptable to stand alone in a kitchen before it gets suspicious?

Sighing, you grab the pasta sauce, tomatoes, and spinach from the fridge then head to the pantry for pasta noodles.

Your friends mercifully tend to their nest making and allow you to make dinner while giving you time alone. You feel a scalding sensation on your hand and look up, rubbing the burn.The time on the microwave reads 9:56 pm, and you realize you’ve been standing at the stove for twenty minutes while the pasta has has been bubbling over, the splash hitting your hand as it spilled.

After scooping everyone a serving into a bowl, you set all of the food on Archie’s coffee table in the center of the room, surrounding which are the blankets they’ve artfully laid out. Stopping only to bid a farewell to Fred as he walks out the door, you take the spot in the center and curl up, letting the warmth from the bowl seep into your freezing fingers.

Your friends thank you for the dinner, and a while is spent with only the sound of Archie flipping the channels on the television.

It’s Betty that dissipates the silence.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. He said something about you and we thought you had told him and I feel so bad about-”

“Don’t,” you say with a sigh. You set your bowl onto the table and slip further into your blanket. “It’s my own fault. If I had just realized before it was too late that I had a crush, then I maybe could have distanced myself.” You look at all three surrounding you, and give a small smile. “I’m sure he just needs time, like he said. We’ll be fine in a couple days.”

Veronica slams her bowl down. “I just don’t get it!” Everyone’s head snaps to her. “You both seemed so enthralled with each other, I was sure he felt the same way. Or at least that he cared enough to not drop you just because you had the audacity to feel more for him than he might for you,” she finished sarcastically.

You shake your head, hoping that she won’t be too angry at Jug. He hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. “It’s just a bit awkward now. We’ll get over it. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“So,” Archie starts, a little hesitant, “You, uh, haven’t exactly told us what happened,” he points out, hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

And so the story begins. You tell them his reaction after they had left the diner, the hurt you felt. When you start to tell them about your plead with him for the two of you to move past it, the spiral of panic about being left out of the group, they stop you.

“Whoa, Y/N, slow down for a minute. Why would you ever think that?” Betty asks, concern coloring her voice.

“Don’t you ever, for even a second, think that we would stop caring for you just because there’s tension between you and Jughead.” Her fierce protectiveness is evident as Veronica scoots closer to you, throwing her arms around you.

“Yeah, Y/N/N. You’re pretty cool and stuff, we wouldn’t do that to you.”

Everyone laughs as Archie gets embarrassed, not knowing how to comfort you but trying his best. A sudden warmth starts in your stomach as you realize the support that your friends have shown all night.

“Thank you guys. I appreciate you hanging out with me as I wallow in pity,” you say, scrunching your nose at the thought of you in the middle of self-pity. You grab the remote from Archie. “Let’s find the worst movie currently streaming and just relax, yeah?” Everyone agrees, and the rest of the night is spent critiquing whatever movie was the subject of your fancy, support coming from the mere presence of such wonderful friends.

After the sleepover had dispersed the next morning, Archie heading off for Saturday football practice and the three girls all agreeing a shower was in order, you head home.

Once you shut your door, the bliss of being alone hits. You love your friends, and them being there despite you insisting everything was fine meant a lot, but you really needed to time to process by yourself.

The steam from your shower is stifling, but something about the scalding water makes you feel truly cleansed.

You check your phone: no messages. You turn the ringer on and the volume up, before tossing it across the bed and starting up your laptop.

Ten minutes pass. You check that you did, in fact, turn your ringer on. You did. No messages.

An hour passes, and you turn your phone off and then back on again, checking the signal. Full bars. No messages.

You throw your phone into a drawer. When you leave your house, your bedroom door is still open.

Daddy sowwy

Awwww. Daddy harry makes me wanna cry! Here’s a cute fluff where Harry shouts on his little bub, which makes her go mad. Hope you lke it. Feedbacks are appreciated.

You woke up with sun shinning on your face. The golden rays were peeking through the white curtains of the window. With a sheepish smile, you turn to your left to be face to face with your husband. Seven years since you’ve been together and still he gives you the same butterflies when you see him.

“Starin’ beautiful?” He mumbled. His voice thick and raspy.

“Nah. Just admiring” you said tracing his lips outline with your index finger. He puckered his lips and kisses your finger ever so lightly.

“Very good.” He chuckled leaning in to he a taste of your lips which you gladly allowed. You turned on your back with Harry on top of you as his lips magically worked on your. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wasted no time in exploring his mouth with his tongue. Your own was busy in exploring his delicious one.

You both were so captivated and Into the moment of making out, that you didn’t hear the bed room door open until you felt Someone’s presence standing beside you.

You broke from the kiss and saw your daughter Rose standing in her unicorn night suit with her Mr. Penguin in her hands.

Harry rolled of you blushing as you sat up.

“Mornin’ sugar plum” you cooed opening your arms for your 3 years old daughter, inviting her for cuddles.

“Mornin’ mumma” she said as she climbed on your lap with legs either side on your waist, cheek pressed to your chest.

You smiled and ran your fingers through her chestnut hair. They were soft and fluffy just like Harry’s but we’re not curly, instead they were straight like yours.

“Where are daddy’s cuddles monkey?” Harry asked poking the side of Rose’s tummy. She whined and pushed his hand away.

“I mad a’ daddy” she mumbled snuggling more to your chest.

“Bu’ why sugar plum?” Harry asked with a pout as he clearly was a bit sad. He loved Rose more than he loved anyone. Might even a little bit more than he loved you.

“You shwouted at me” Rose said. Tear welling up in her green eyes as she remembered what happened last night.

*Flashback to night before*

“Mommy!!!! When dadda come?” Rose asked jumping on the couch. The whole day tiny toddler kept asking when her dad will come.

“Soon bubba. And don’t jump on couch poppet. You’ll get hurt.” You said looking from the kitchen where you were preparing dinner.

Harry has been pretty busy lately. He had a lot of work to do. Sign of the times was out and was already a big hit. You couldn’t be more proud of him. Stepping into the industry alone was a big step and he was very nervous about it, but he always said that you and rose are his strength.

Nowadays, he just leaves with a kiss on your head and a kiss on Rose’s who is fast asleep in the early dusk of the mornings. Usually he’s to do the interviews that are in morning and after that he has to rush to the office for the meetings regarding promotion and other stuff. So he barely sees Rose now. And little did he know, the little munchkin of his missed him a lot.

“But when mumma?” She whined tugging on the hem of your shorts. You sighed and peered down at your little baby who was staring at you with those eyes which she got from her father. Just as bright and filled with innocence like Harry. You smiled and picked her up.

“You miss dadda a lot. Don’t you?” You asked pinching her nose making her giggle. She nods and rests her head on your shoulder.

“Yes mumma. I wove daddy.” She said.

“More than you wove me?” You asked and she nodded. Kids never lie. She did loved her daddy a lot. They always had a moment which you never understood. Maybe it was the way Harry made her feel special or the way she made Harry’s world special.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss her forehead when you heard door bell ring.

Grinning, rose eloped from your arms and ran to the door with her small legs which had lot of cute rolls. You giggled and followed her to open the door.

“Daddy!!!!!” Rose squealed as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s legs which was just an inch above Harry’s knees.

“Monkey!” Harry chuckles picking her up and kissing her lips softly. He pushed some hair away from her face and kissed her forehead removing his shoes and putting his wallet and car keys in the bowl.

“Hello sweetie.” You said softly walkinh to him. Harry smiled and put rose down softly to let her run to her room to get her dollies.

“Elo’ baby ” he said wrapping his arms around your waist. You reached up to caresses his cheek with the back of your hand. He looked tired. He was tired. You tip toed and pressed a chaste kiss to his dry lips. He kissed back instantly. No matter how tired he’d be, he never denied your kisses.

“Dadda!! Dollies here. Play with meh!” Rose chirped jumping up and down interrupting you guys. With a groan Harry pulled away.

“No’ now peaches. Daddy’s tired. We will play tomorrow.” Harry said crouching down to her level. She pouted and shook her head and stomped her feet.

“Now ! Pwease?” Rose pleaded and gave Harry her best puppy face. And there he melted. Rose was Harry’s weakness and he could never say no to her.

“Okayyyyyy” Harry said picking the little girl up and tickling her belly. For the first time today, the house filled with cute laughter of hers.

Soon you guys had dinner. He whole time rose was stick to Harry. Blubbering about her day. How she watched Moana and even sang you’re welcome for Harry. She was so adorable and cute and was a huge fan of her daddy so she even sand sign of the times. God, you wished you knew how god managed to create such an amazing baby with the love of you and your husband.

“Cmon rose bud. Time for bed honey.” You said taking rose from Harry’s arms.

“No mommy. I want daddy!!! ” she cried.

“ you’ll see him tomorrow peaches. He’s at home the whole day tomorrow.” You said.

But little one kept crying and weeping. She really did missed Harry and seeing her crying broke Harry’s heart.

“Le’ i'be baby. She can be with me in study. I’ve some work t'do.” Harry said getting up from the couch and lifting rose in his arms and setting on his hips.

“Y-you sure ?” You asked. You weren’t sure because his study had a lot of expensive CD’s and labels and other stuff. All of his awards were in there.

“Yes baby. Don’ worry” Harry said pecking your lips and walking upstairs.

You smiled at them and decided to watch TV for a bit.


“Rose. Baby sit Down quietly please”

“Rose don’ touch tha’ honey”

“Baby please stop jumping”

Harry was tired. He already had a big day and now his hyper toddler was tiring him up more. He honestly was at the verge of losing his temper when he heard a loud thud and then breaking noise.

His head snapped up in the direction of the sound and saw Rose standing quietly, arms behind her back-looking down at the broken record. It was one of the Beatles limited edition and she broke it.

Harry lost it now.

“HOW MANY TIMES I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING?!! Why don’t listen t'me???!!!

Harry roared. He loved the record dearly. It was a gift from one of his close friends who wasn’t in this world anymore.

Scared, Rose ran down the staircase crying. She hugged you and sobbed endlessly. The whole night little one spent crying.

*End of flashback*

Harry closed his eyes as guilt flooded his mind and heart. He yelled at his baby. It was just a record and she’s only three.

Harry gulped the guilt and sat up straight taking Rose from your arms going against her shrieks and whines.

“Daddy sowwy baby” Harry said making her look at Harry, holding her chin. She pouted her lips.

“You too loud daddy” she said as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck, forgiving him. Harry nudged her nose against her small small one and kissed all over her face making her giggle.

“Daddy’s so sorry baby girl.” Harry said again.

“It’ okay dadda” she said kissing Harry’s lips softly and hiding her face in his neck. Sighing happily, Harry pulled you in family cuddle as well. What a good and a pleasant way to begin the day

No Bliss in Ignorance [Chapter 2]

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (LOOK AT THIS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader x Junmyeon

Genre: College AU

Rating: M (cursing, drinking, future smut)

Word Count: 2.5K

Chapter 1

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