#Apparently recently got over 1.5k followers here recently

[thatfrenchacademic]

Hi I am sick and miserable, like not in a sad way just in a sick-curled-up-under-a-blanket-death-warmed-over way pls send funny /cute / dumb things???

[tempobrucera]

PROMPT LIST

I just recently noticed that the 12 followers I had here when I started actually using this blog, turned into 200 over the last ... month or so and I don't know why or how. Thank you, it feels really like insanity 🥂🎉. Maybe because it gives me some joy and it's literally just writing and not much either on this blog, nothing else.

I'm gonna write some small blurbs between 500-800 (more like between 1k-1.5k, because that's apparently the length I can write) words each, can be shorter, longer.

Rules (there aren't many, don't worry): 1. You can pick up to 4 numbers from the prompt sentences, scenarios, mood / dynamics and the touches / kinks lists for one request (there are examples under the cut). The prompts are categorized but just because it says angst, doesn't mean it can't be requested as fluff. 2. Write SFW or NSFW or don't care into the request. 3. Let me know for who of the 4 (or 2? The scenarios are for 2 people, but can be written for more) (there's just one thing I cannot write which is nsfw Damiano, sorry). 4. That's it. Because there are endless possibilities with this, you can request more than one. I might close them at one point though. Feel free to reblog this. I'm gonna reblog this myself at one point, I know myself.

Thanks & Please go a long way : )

Taglist: @teatrodellavita, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @little-moonbeam-666, @its-afucking-mess

Add Yourself to the taglist

Examples & Lists

1. Prompt Sentences:

Nonsense / General Stupidness / Idiots to Lovers / Drunk

1. "Am I an accomplice to a crime?"

2. "Please go away." - "We're handcuffed together, how am I supposed to-"

3. "Friends with benefits... isn't that like, for friends?" - "Don't think it's a requirement."

4. "I told you that you’d fall in love with me."

5. "I’m bored. Let’s bake something" - "It’s two in the fucking morning–" "So?"

6. "I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment."

7. "I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot." - "No, that's okay. Go on."

8. "Now if you excuse me, i'm gonna go set myself on fire."

9. "I love you." - "Hold up — what did you just say?" - "When?" - "Two seconds ago." - "I said you."

10. "You do know that’s a plastic plant, right?"

11. "You're an idiot." - "Takes one to know one."

12. "I wish I could say that this is the first time, I’ve been stabbed with a plastic spoon."

13. "Are you flirting with me?" - "I have been for the past year or so, but I appreciate you noticing."

14. "For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something."

15. "What are you doing here?" - "I got locked out of my house." - "Again?"

16. "What happened to your hand?" - "I hit my hand on something." - "On what?" - "Your ex's face."

17. "Why did you break up with them?" - "My dog didn't like them, and that is never a good sign."

18. "How about we save that kiss for some other time? Maybe, let's say, when you don't look like you're going to throw up on me?"

19. "Can you punch my face?"

20. "You’re a mess." - "Thank you for the lovely compliment."

21. "I fell in love with you." - "No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your alcohol."

22. "I love you, but sometimes I want to throw you off a cliff."

23. "Alright— where’s the idiot?" - "Uh... I’m here." - "Surprisingly enough, I’m not talking about you this time."

24. "If you do that again I will throw you out the window you- what are you doing?" - "Checking how high the drop is to see if it's worth it."

25. "I’m not drunk. Can a drunk person do this?" - "You’re not doing anything." - "But… I sent you my love. Did you… did you not get it?"

26. "Here’s a spare key so you don’t have to keep coming in through the window."

27. "....Did you just sniff me?"

28. "If there’s nothing going on between the two of you, you don’t mind if I ask her out, do you?"

29. "I need you, you idiot." - "I am yours. No refunds."

30. "You've been here all night?" - "Of course. Why, was i supposed to sneak out?"

Fake Dating

31. "Yeah, well, I'm not paying you to like me. I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet so my ex doesn't think I miss them."

32. "They'll be in here in a second. Get naked." - "What? You didn't say anything about getting naked!" - "Just take off some of your clothes, I want them to think we're doing it!"

33. "This was all fake, this was just supposed to be fake you weren't supposed to tell me you love me!" - "And you weren't supposed to say it back!"

34. "It’s just going to be for one night and there will be so much food and drinks, you just need to say yes and maybe take my hand a few times that night."

35. "Are you doubting my acting skills?"

36. "I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé."

37. "You want to practice kissing to make it believable? How about we practice having an argument and you sleeping on the couch?"

Comfort

38. "If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you brag about winning game night."

39. "You can lay your head in my lap if you want to."

40. "You okay? You look like you could use a hug."

41. "Alright, who am I beating up?"

42. "I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup."

43. "You can lean on me if it makes you more comfortable."

44. "You make a good pillow."

45. "You can squeeze my hand if you need to."

46. "I'll sit here, with my arms wrapped around you, all night."

47. "Here, you can borrow my jacket."

Angst

48. "Look, i'm really sorry. You didn't deserve that."

49. "So we're breaking up over the phone? Touché."

50. "And you're here to do what, exactly? To apologize, or to feel better about yourself?"

51. "I know you've already moved on, but I'm still where we left off."

52. "All my friends told me you’d break my heart."

53. "Why did you wait until I moved on?"

54. "Come on, you're not okay." - "That obvious, huh?"

55. "It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!"

56. "All you do is hurt people."

57. "I never would’ve thought (Person) would end up with someone else."

58. "I think I messed things up, I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with ..."

"Enemies" to Lovers / Hating eachother

59. "God, you really are the most annoying person on earth."

60. "Why are you so annoying?" - "Why are you so mad about it?"

61. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh at one of my jokes before."

62. "Go to hell." - "I'm sure the devil will greet us both with open arms."

63. "Are they fighting again?" - "Worse, they’re kissing."

64. "I am this close away from strangling you."

65. "Look, I know we're not... friends, but... i don't know where to go."

66. "You know, you could at least tell me to go to hell."

NSWF / Flirting

67. "We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

68. "Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

69. "If you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up."

70. "I saw that. You just checked out my ass."

71. "We should just get naked."

72. "If you keep fucking me this good, I'll marry you."

73. "This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled fuck you."

74. "So... are you going to let me in, or would you rather I chat up the bartender?"

75. "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind."

General / Anything else

76. "Who needs them, we can have fun on our own."

77. "Do you think we’re friends / lovers in every universe?"

78. "How many times are we going to keep meeting like this?"

79. "Will they like me, or should I buy a copy of 'How to Make Friends and Influence People'?"

80. "Wait a minute, did you just choke on your (drink) because they're dating that asshole?"

81. "Pretty boy is with me!" - (...) - "Oh, I’m pretty boy?"

82. "Wasn't really under the impression you thought of me that way."

83. "You're anything but a saint."

84. "I'm sorry for bringing it up." - "Actually, I would love to kiss you."

85. "Dance with me." - "Right here?"

86. "I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?" - "Hopefully all of them…"

2. Scenarios:

1. One day, Person A and Person B are both trapped in an elevator together.

2. Person A and Person B both get a little too tipsy at their weekly movie night and Person B always wants to cuddle when you’re both drunk.

3. Person A and Person B went thrift shopping together and found old love notes so now they're sitting on the couch reading them to each other in silly voices and suddenly Person A is nervous and wait a minute did Person B just use Person A's name .

4. Person A leaves baked goods for Person B anonymously, but Person B already knows that it's Person A.

5. Person A keeps making mixtapes and Spotify playlists for Person B that are full of an oddly high number of love songs, but Person B still hasn't figured out that they're confessions.

6. Person A has a hard time reaching something in the cabinet, Person B insists on helping them but Person A refuses, and Person B now has to watch as Person A climbs up the kitchen counter to reach the cabinet, terrified out of their mind that Person A will fall and hurt themselves.

7. Person B's favorite restaurant's giving out free food for Valentine's Day, but it's couples only so Person B is dragging Person A along with them.

8. Person B just ate all the caramel tartlets, so Person A pushes them on the couch to jokingly kiss them, and god their lips are sweet.

9. Person A is trying to have a conversation with Person B but Person randomly decides to splash their glass of water in Person A's face, having had enough of being serious.

10. Person A get's utterly drunk at a party. Person A is being grumpy picking fights with people for just looking at them but extra nice to Person B only. Including removing their clothes because they feel so hot and their shoes and completely forgetting about them. Only Person B can put the clothes back on them because they're the only ones allowed to touch but because Person A is drunk they also fall asleep everywhere because of that.

11. Person A and Person B almost burning down the house when making dinner because they're too busy making out.

12. Visit a christmas market and treat yourself with all the delicious sweets that are out there

13. Person A shows up at Person B's house drunk after they broke up Sorry. No break up anymore! People loved going for this one. Why?

14. Trying to bake cookies together and failing. It's one big mess and in the end, they are lying on the floor, covered in flour and not able to stop smiling.

15. Person A and Person B grocery shopping together. Person A stays strictly to the list while Person B tries to sneak a few extra items into the cart.

16. Person A got takeout from their favorite restaurant as a surprise and Person B decided to make a fancy meal to surprise Person A and now Person A is standing at the door with takeout bags while Person B is waiting for something in the oven, and they're laughing but also Person A is looking at Person B like maybe it's love?

17. One picking the other up to take them out on a date after they were stood up.

18. Person A and Person B wake up hugging each other and their noses are so close, and they stare into each other's eyes, not knowing what to do, afraid to break up the moment.

19. Person A shyly working up courage to hold Person B’s hand by continuing to brush against it, before Person B takes charge and grabs hold of it. Person A is getting all flustered.

20. Playing hide and seek at IKEA and being kicked out of the store.

3. Mood / Dynamics / Fanfic Tropes:

1. Fluff (Happy / Romantic)

2. Lazy / Sleepy

3. Angst

4. Sharing a first kiss

5. Confessing feelings

6. Friends with Benefits

7. Hurt / Comfort

8. Idiots to Lovers

9. Only one bed

10. Fake Dating

11. Having an argument / fight

12. "Enemies" to Lovers

4. Touches / Kinks:

1. Lifting someone up out of excitement

2. Nose kisses

3. Holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition

4. Cuddling for warmth

5. Shielding the other one with their body

6. Doing a pinky swear

7. Pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

8. Falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

9. Holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall

10. One doodling on the other’s hand.

11. Comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands

12. Looking at their naked back, connecting the small moles with your fingers as if they were constellations.

13. One wiping a crumb from the other’s lips.

14. Touching foreheads.

15. Hickeys.

16. Semi Public

17. Sweat

18. Car Sex

19. Body Hair

20. Praise

[iwadori]

hii there !! i'd like to request a haikyuu boys hyping you up before a game with akaashi, tsukishima and kageyama,, tyvm !!

Hyping you up before a game (Akaashi, Kageyama, Tsukishima)

Can I just say everyone go read @fichyu ‘s works cause theyre an amazing writer (and one of my first followers.) Thanks forrr the request

Word Count: 1.5k

genre: angst (if you squint) fluff

Akaashi

You were about to play your last match in the tournament besides nationals

You were nervous to say the least

In the previous match you played you made a mistake which nearly cost your team the game, making you all the more nervous

You were in the locker room pacing around the room with your hands shaking. You didn’t want to mess up, you can’t mess up. After the last game your team all looked at you with disappointment and sadness making you feel terrible. Your mood felt a bit better in the match when you saw Akaashi in the crowd, if only you could talk to him right now.

Just then, someone knocked on the locker room door and said “Y/N, are you in there?” it was Akaashi, thank god. “Yeah, I’m in here...” you said quietly.  

He came in and gave you a hug which you desperately received “You did great in that game Y/N.” he said.

“No, I did terrible...the whole team hates me now.” you reply with a frown forming on your face like a sad puppy.

“Gosh Y/N you are so melodramatic sometimes” he laughed “All you did was let one ball go out..”

“But Keiji I-”

“You still won, didn’t you?” he asked looking down at you “right?”

“Yes, we did win” you say rolling your eyes.

“Well, that settles it then Y/N, you won you’re the ace not TM/N or TM/N... it’s you.” he starts “Now it’s the last game before you get to go to nations babe, you’re going to do great!”

He lets go of you and holds your hand, as you walk towards the court, he brushes his thumb over your hand in a calming motion to relax your nerves. When you get there, your team calls you over with smiles on your face and you look back to Akaashi one more time.  

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll be out there in the crowds cheering you on.” he gives you a hug and a final kiss on the forehead before finishing with “Now go be the ace and win the game.”

After Akaashi’s prep talk, you’ve never felt better. You jog over to the team feeling pumped and ready to the play. The game was hard, a tit for tat with the opposing team battling out for the point. You were on your Agame playing the best performances you’ve ever played. Everytime you scored, you heard Akaashi cheer and yell things like “That’s my s/o!”, “Y/N you’re the best.” which boosted your playing even more.

You end up winning the game with Akaashi smiling at you and telling you “I told you so” after his pep-talk ended up being true. You led your team to nationals with Akaashi coming to every game with his usual cheers and praise.

Tsukishima.

You were fairly new on your volleyball team.

You didn’t get to play in much matches, and you mainly stayed on the bench but that didn’t matter to you.

You did join a few games as the pinch server, and it was a daunting feeling as when you were subbed in you were usually the ultimate game changer.

The day before todays game, your coach told you that unless you get injured you’ll be playing every minute of todays match which deeply worried you. Especially since, the team your playing against you’ve played with before and in that last match you were subbed in as the pinch server and when you hit the ball your serve went out. Causing your team to lose.

The team assured you that stuff like that happen, and it is completely fine and no one blamed you. But you didn’t care, you practiced your serves and your skills over the next time period making sure you wouldn’t cost the team the match.

Your team was prepared and ready for the match, but you definitely weren’t. You look down and see  a message from your boyfriend,

Tsukishima: come outside  

You went outside and saw your boyfriend there with a one of those colourful cheering things (you know the ones they use in the haikyu games to cheer.) “Kei I didn’t know you were going to be here?” you say a bit surprised.

“Well surprise Y/N..” he said in a deadpan voice.  

You smiled before getting nervous again thinking about how close the game is about to start. Tsukishima grabs your hands to stop them from shaking, and says “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“Tsukki, you saw what happened at the last game, how my shitty serve cost us the game.” you huff in annoyance.  

“Y/N, I'm never gonna understand your love for volleyball but I know that you’re great. You’ll do great.” he says watching you smile “I’ve seen the way your eyes light up when you step onto the court and how you put your all in everything and it makes me fall in love with you even more every time I watch you play.”

“Thank you Tsukishima, but what if I-”  

“You won’t, and even if you do who cares” he says “It’s just a stupid volleyball game anyways” he jokes making you laugh and boosting your spirits.

All your serves were great this game, trying out your recently learned float serve and mastering it every time blowing the competition away. Everyone was amazed by your powerful serves ones which the opposition’s libero couldn’t pick up, scoring more and more points.

You win the game, and your team labels you the MVP of the game, which was well deserved. Tsukishima treated you to a date, a movie and jokes and comments about your opposing team. Ending in a good night.

Kageyama

You were always excited and hyper, the opposite of kageyama making you a perfect match.

You weren’t that good at volleyball to begin with but you were obsessed with the sport.

You lacked some basics skills for volleyball but made up for it with your powerful jumps, spikes and skills.

Kageyama always seemed very interested in your volleyball games, watching and commenting on your setter’s skill or lack thereof. But when it came to you his interest shown heavily. He wanted to be at every practice, practice game, mini tournament or competition or even if it was a little toss about in the park. He was always interested.  

Even when you were getting a ball to the face or completely missing the ball on your spikes, Kageyama always was invested. Although he didn’t fully know about the sport, whenever you were feeling down or wanted to rant about the problems that involved volleyball he was always there to listen. Making Kageyama the best boyfriend.

What made him either better was in moments like these. Your team just got off the bus and you felt like you were going to throw up your insides. But you saw kageyama standing outside the entrance of the stadium with a small smile on his face and yoghurt in his hand.

“Tobio!” You exclaim wrapping him in a hug.

“Hi Y/N, are you ready for the game?” he asked making you even more anxious.

“No, I feel like I'm going to throw up,” you say with a frown “I think I need to go to the bathroom...”

“Y/N you’ll be fine, eat this it’ll keep your stamina up.” he said handing you the yoghurt.

“Oooh it seems someone's been keeping up with their health facts.” you say teasingly

“Oh, shut up dumbass.” he said squishing your head “But anyways, you shouldn’t worry because although you are lacking in most of the basic skills that are apparently required for volleyball, the way you play exceeds all that and I’ve seen your hard work and efforts and they’ll definitely play off in this match....as long as you manage to not get hit in the face with the ball.” he jokes at the end.

“Oh shusssh” you say playfully hit in his side “But thank you, Tobio I’ll try my best, especially for you.” you kiss him on the cheek leaving him blushing and frozen as you skip off with your team inside.

The game was great, all your serves manage to go over the net and for the time you played for you did great. You and the setter were working in tandem, you hitting every one of their tosses and scoring many points. Kageyama was cheering loudly in the audience, making you smile every time he said your name you were filled with more confidence reminding you of something he said to you a while ago “As long as I'm with you, I'm the greatest,” which showed you more proof of Kageyamas pride over you as having you as his s/o.

You obviously win the game and Kageyama could never be happier. You spent the rest of the night going over the whole game that Kageyama recorded (in full soccer mum likeness.) With Kageyama singing your praises and your faults every time.

AN: I had fun writing this one.... and if you notice I kind of related Y/N to some particular haikyu boys in each scenario jiihesjkhdf but yh i hope you enjoy.

[falcons-wings]

an easy mission

sam wilson x reader

summary: the reader gets hurt on a mission where they received bad intel (this is a terrible summary but we move)

warnings: fighting, injuries, blood, swearing, guns, knives (i think that’s it?? pls tell me if there’s anything else)

wc: 1.5k+

masterlist

a/n: i’ve written for quite a few different fandoms but never marvel for some reason idk, but i love this man with all my heart and he does not nearly get the love he deserves so i thought i’d write this little work for him - also i havent written in a while so im rusty so apologies in advance - hope you enjoy :)

This was meant to be an easy mission. A nice break from all the stress, fighting and pain you had been experiencing recently since you started working with Sam and Bucky. You had even been sent in on your own to where the target was supposed to be whilst the boys kept watch because it was, as Sam so incorrectly said, “a simple in and out job”.

You had decided it was not a simple in and out job.

The target you had to extract was only meant to have two of his men guarding him, hence the easy part of the job, but the twelve guys who were now all either pointing guns at you or in fighting stances, proved that information very wrong.

It didn’t take long for all hell to break loose - there were gunshots flying everywhere as you began taking out some of the men closest to you. You threw a couple of knives from your harness at two of the men who had guns, not even looking to see if they had hit the mark (but you knew they did - you never missed) before running at the guy closest to you. A swift kick to his stomach followed by an elbow to the face was all it took to for him to go down, allowing you to focus on the other guys now approaching you - and a couple more knives were thrown in succession, getting rid of all but one of the shooters before you engaged in hand to hand combat with two of the assailants.

“Y/n? Is everything alright in there?” Sam’s voice spoke through the comm.

“Oh, everything’s just peachy Sam, I just want to say-“ You felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, interrupting your train of thought and speech, but your momentary pause cost you when one of the guys you were fighting got lucky with a hit to your face. Annoyed that you had let down your guard and most likely had a broken nose now, you kicked your leg out towards his shin and as he tripped slightly, you elbowed him in the gut and pulled his arm down as you rolled towards the floor, flipping him over so his front collided with the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious.

You turned your attention back to the remaining assailants when you registered Sam shouting your name over the comms.

“What Sam? I’m a little busy.”

“You stopped mid sentence I thought something had happened, we were about to come and see if you needed help.” You could hear the worry in his voice but the stubborn part of you still refused to ask for help from them even though they were your friends and you knew they wouldn’t think any less of you.

“No it’s all good here, I was just going to say that we’re never listening to your informant ever again and if we do, you’re getting sent into the hideout.”

“What? Why?”

“Well it turns out the two guys guarding the target,” you tackled the last armed guy to the ground, stabbing him in the chest in the process before getting back up and approaching the last couple of people left, “was actually twelve so I’ve not been having the best time here.”

“Shit. We’re coming in.” You could hear him saying something to Bucky but you didn’t care as this was when you noticed the original target was no longer in your sight, only two very angry looking dudes.

“No I’ve got this handled, but I’ve lost the target - he must’ve got away whilst I was distracted. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise y/n, Barnes is going to get the target and I’m coming to you.”

Before you could respond to him, the last two guys came charging at you. You ducked underneath the arm of one, dodging the knife he had trained on you, and kicked him in the back with enough force that he fell to the floor and didn’t get back up. This left only one who swung at your face, which you sidestepped out the way of, but unfortunately failed to see him swing his leg out to kick you in the stomach. You stepped back, doubled over in pain for a moment, but quickly recovered and took out the last knife from your harness, throwing it at his chest with perfect accuracy as he made another approach at you.

The body fell to the floor just as you heard loud footsteps running into the room behind you. Still on high alert you spun to fight this next person but instead relaxed when you saw Sam run into the room and stop in his tracks when he looked at you.

“I did say I had it handled.” You smiled smugly at him, ignoring the stab of pain from your nose at the movement, but the smile quickly faded when he still didn’t say anything, not even one of his normal comebacks.

“What? Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head slightly and began walking slowly towards you, “Y/n, you’re bleeding. We need to get you help.”

“It’s just a broken nose Sam, trust me I’ve survived worse.”

He was right in front of you now, his dark eyes conveying so much worry as he looked you over more closely. “No y/n, we need to get you to a hospital.”

You didn’t get what he was on about until he angled his head at your stomach, where you could now see the bullet wound you must’ve received in the mess of the fight bleeding profusely.

“Oh. Well that’s not ideal.”

You stumbled slightly as you started registering the pain you were in, the adrenaline from the fight beginning to wear off now. Sam was quick to steady you with his arms, and the concern on his face, his concern for you, warmed your heart a little even amidst the pain.

He manoeuvred you to the floor to rest whilst he spoke to Bucky over the comms to update him on the situation, and it might’ve been the blood loss speaking but you couldn’t help but think to yourself that he looked even more attractive than normal. He raised an eyebrow at you when he caught you staring, and quickly shaking the thoughts out of your head you began speaking.

“I’m sorry, I fucked up, I didn’t want to call for back up so you would know I can handle things and then I lost the target and then apparently got injured in the mess. All in all not my best mission, so I’m sorry.”

He shook his head at you, crouching down in front of you, “No y/n, you have absolutely nothing to apologise for. This is 100% on me and I’m so so sorry - I hate to see you get hurt, and that’s exactly what happened here.”

“How’s it on you?”

“It was my informant who gave the wrong information which I believed without confirming it, and then you went in here with no back up. You could’ve died y/n. I- No, we, can’t handle another loss, especially if it was you, you mean too much to Bucky and I now.” He looked down at his hands, avoiding your eyes, “I’ll do better next time.”

You hated how sad and broken he looked as he admitted this to you, and bad injuries or not, you were having none of his wallowing today. “Listen to me here Samuel Wilson - you are not to blame for this, sometimes there is bad intel and that’s just something we have to deal with. And if you will not let me blame myself for anything that’s gone wrong today then I ban you from thinking the same about yourself okay?”

He finally looked up at you to see the sincerity in your eyes and gave a small smile, “Okay.”

“I hate to break up the moment,” you both sat up quickly, ready to fight, to see Bucky approaching the two of you and dragging the target behind him, “but we need to get you to a hospital and this guy to a cell.”

“That might be a good idea as my vision is starting to go a little blurry.”

“Shit, okay, I’m gonna pick you up is that alright?” Sam asked, only needing a nod from you before you were in his arms bridal style and following Bucky out of the building.

As you approached the vehicle you were using, you poked Sam’s cheek to get his attention.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt either by the way, you mean too much to me as well.”

His eyes shined as he looked down at you, but his attention was quickly caught by Bucky muttering under his breath “God, just kiss already, you two make me feel sick.”

You huffed a laugh, ignoring your own blushing cheeks, and instead looked at Sam who had his own red cheeks and was now glaring at Bucky with a look, that if it could, would kill him.

He soon gave up with glaring at his friend, and instead looked down at you with a small, possibly hopeful smile on his face that you readily returned.

[timmytimwriter]

Once Upon A Time...

A/N: Hi! I know I haven’t uploaded anything in a long while, BUT I’ve kept myself busy with writing. I know I had requests I haven’t uploaded yet, and that’s because I’m working on it. Recently, I started watching the Fantastic Beast film series and fell head over heels in love with Theseus Scamander. So, here’s a little mini-series.

As usual, all my Y/N’s are black. Period. If you want a white Y/N, refer to the other gazillion fanfics that fail to be inclusive to black women :) with that out the way, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, just heartbreak :(

Once upon a time, it was Y/N Y/L/N and Theseus Scamander against the world. Having spent nearly their entire life together, nearly everyone expected them to end up together. Hell, even they expected to end up together. And, they almost did. Y/N loved him more than she loved life itself. Theseus did not.

Once upon a time, Y/N was prepared to spend the rest of her life with Theseus. But their fairytale romance didn’t end in a happily ever after.

The small gang had run out of places to hide. Wherever they want, Grindelwald’s supporters seemed to find – and try to kill – them. They had exhausted every hiding spot in the entire continent of Europe, it seemed.

“We can’t just keep running.” Tina fumed after nearly escaping yet another attack. They trudged through the alleys of London. Try as they might, it was hard to stay inconspicuous with such a large group. If it were just Newt, Tina, and Jacob running it’d be easier – but, their ranks had been joined by Yusuf Kama, Nagini, and Theseus Scamander.

“We have to leave Europe. We can’t keep hiding out like animals.” Yusuf said.

“We could always go back to New York?” Jacob halfheartedly suggested. After losing Queenie, everything Jacob did was halfhearted. It was as if Queenie took his very essence with her when she left.

“No, New York would be too obvious. They know who we are, so they must know where we live.” Tina interjected, just as halfheartedly. She had lost her sister to an evil she couldn’t find. All she could do was run; run away from her sister.

Newt noticed her sadness and took her hand in his, offering her a small smile. Theseus watched his little brother and Tina hold hands, which only reminded him of what he had lost: Leta Lestrange.

Theseus’ bitter thoughts were interrupted by his brother. “New York may be too obvious but going to America isn’t such a bad idea…” Newt’s voice trailed off and he tentatively glanced at his older brother, who was lost in his own world.

“Theseus…” Newt softly said. He let go of Tina’s petite hand and walked over to his brother, putting a soft hand on his broad shoulders.

“What?” Theseus saw everyone now looking at him, and he wondered if he missed something important when he was lost in his own head. “Did I miss something?”

Newt took a deep breath. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. “I know a place we can hideout. In America. But you’re not going to like it…”

The day was September 18th, 1927.

The crisp autumn brisk bristled past Y/N as she swiftly walked through a nearly empty park. It was nearly 8AM and, though nearly everyone else in Washington DC was asleep, Y/N Y/L/N had made a point of waking up at 5 in the morning for the sole purpose of getting fresh baked goods from Maryland.

See, her favorite bakery was nearly an hour-long drive from her home and the goods always ran out fast. It had taken her weeks to devise a working and precise plan, but she had finally done it. Now, it was just this eerie park that separated where she parked her car and her apartment that delayed her breakfast.

“If the bread gets cold… after all my hard work… so help me Merlin…” she huffed, hastening her paste. Finally, she found herself in front of her apartment – a stout yet charming brown shoe-box shaped building that was snuggled between what seemed like a billion other buildings that fit the same description. Lucky for her, Y/N lived on the ground floor and only had to climb the front steps and insert her key.

“Home sweet home.” She thought to herself, setting the bag of baked goods on a nearby table. She shrugged off her light coat, lamenting if the food was worth not sleeping in. Lord knows when she may get another opportunity; with the rise of Grindelwald, her work at the ministry had nearly quadrupled.

But it kept her busy. It distracted her from everything ailing her life; how war was imminent, worrying for her family’s safety, worrying for her own safety, worrying for…him.

As much as it pained her, she kept close tabs on him. Whenever a European Auror turned up dead because of Grindelwald or one of his followers, she prayed it wasn’t him. Y/N had never been a religious person; she believed in magic, but that was it. To this day, it still puzzled her how the man who had completely crushed her heart made her believe in the unbelievable.

She shook her head. “Stop thinking about him.” She muttered to herself, taking a deep breath. “Lord knows he’s not thinking about you. Lord knows he was never thinking about you…” She tossed her coat onto the couch, making a mental note to put it away later.

For now, she needed the only thing that would drive him out of her mind: food. Through her heartbreak and depression, there was only one constant in her mind. The one thing that drove her out of bed nearly every day. The one thing that didn’t attempt to get her to “talk about it” or “put herself out there.” The one thing that she loved more than…

“Theseus!”

Lo and behold, standing right there in her petite kitchen was Theseus Scamander. The man who had obliviated her heart.

She nearly fell back in shock, never expecting to see his face again. After all these years… he still looked the same. His eyes were still dark with slight speckles on gold. His auburn hair still had those unruly curls that he hated and often unsuccessfully tried to gel back, but Y/N always loved. Most of her favorite memories with him included him cuddling up to her while she played with his hair.

She narrowed her eyes and peered closer at him, taking in everything that had changed. Yes, he had certainly aged, but he looked thoroughly exhausted. He had bags under his eyes, and small vanishing wounds riddled his body. He looked tired. Defeated. She had never seen that look in him.

He looked like she did when he left her. Heartbroken.

“So sorry to intrude like this, Y/N” his brother, Newt, interjected. Y/N only then realized that there were other people present.

“What the hell is going on?”

Newt provided a quick summarization of what the group had gone through the past couple of days: the fight during Grindelwald’s assembly, Queenie’s betrayal, Credence switching sides, and Leta’s death. At that last comment, Y/N’s eyes instinctively darted to Theseus, who kept his trained on the ground. As a matter of what, he was trying desperately hard to avoid eye contact.

“We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t desperate, Y/N.” Newt said. The Scamander’s and Y/N had a long and complicated history, and Newt hated having to impose this on his old friend. He didn’t like the idea of involving her in an already volatile situation.

Y/N, on the other hand, wouldn’t hear a word otherwise. “Of course, you’re all welcome to stay. I wish you’d come earlier and save yourselves the trouble of running around London seeking refuge.”

Newt gratefully nodded, taking Tina’s hand in his. “Don’t worry, I still remember my way around your flat.” At that, he and his... girlfriend(?) apparated away – probably to another room to get some privacy.

Now Y/N was left alone with a group of people she didn’t know. Well, she knew Theseus – once upon a time – but not as well as she thought she did, obviously.

“Alright, then. Are any of you hurt? Hungry? I’ve got baked goods from the best place in the country.” Y/N pushed further into the kitchen, clutching her bag of baked goods with her. Brushing past Theseus, she caught a sniff of the most comforting and familiar smell she knew. In fact, it was the exact same smell of her Amortentia potion. “I’ve got about a dozen bagels and some doughnuts. Oh, and cookies too. You might be wondering why I have so much food, after all, I’m just one person. And that’s a very funny question…” Y/N blabbered away. As if talking would fill the awkward space.

Because if she fell silent, she’d have to become more aware of her surroundings. That would mean looking at Theseus. Maybe even talking to him. And it would, ultimately, lead to her reliving every wonderfully painful memory she ever shared with him.

“Y/N…? Now, where have I heard that name before?” Jacob asked.

“Maybe from Newt? We went to Hogwarts together for about three years, after all.”

“Only three? Isn’t wizarding school for seven years, or something like that?”

“Yes, but I started school at Uagadou. It’s the wizarding school in Africa – I’m from Senegal, by the way, don’t let the English accent fool you- but then I transferred to Hogwarts in my fourth year…” Y/N trailed off, not fully wanting to finish the story as it didn’t paint her in the best light.

“…After she transfigured into a panther and attacked a kid for teasing her brothers.” Theseus finished. Y/N’s head snapped up, sending her Y/H/C locks flying in disarray, and stared at him. He was still tentatively looking at the ground, but his face held a knowing smile. “And then just a year after starting at Hogwarts, she did the exact same thing to another student.” He slowly raised his head. With his eyes partially hidden behind his disheveled auburn curls, it seemed as if he was staring into her naked soul.

“Magnolia Harper,” Y/N recalled, “She bloody deserved it too.”

“And what exactly did the poor girl do to warrant an animal attack?” Nagini whispered, her head cocked to the side in curiosity.

Y/N could feel the temperature in her cheeks rising by the second. At that times like this, she was glad her melanin complexion made it difficult for anyone tell she was blushing. The entire story was bloody embarrassing, especially given the situation everything was in right now. She chewed on the bottom of her lip, trying to piece together exactly how to phrase her answer.

Luckily, Theseus came to the rescue. “There was a rumor that she was planning on asking me to the Yule Ball and Y/N got insanely jealous. Pounced on her during Dumbledore’s practice dueling sessions and nearly clawed her entire face off.”

“Oh, so you two were an item. How sweet, young love.” Nagini mulled, smiling at the two. Yusuf stood beside her, solemnly nodding his head.

The pair looked down, the nostalgic smiles slipping from their faces. All the dissipating anger Y/N harbored suddenly came bubbling to the surface, remembering Theseus’ betrayal like a fresh wound. Theseus, on the other hand, felt the guilt and grief wash over him like a Tsunami.

“Not exactly. It turns out I was worried about the wrong girl…”

[bratzkoo]

delivery! (i)

 credits to @monvante​​ for making this beautiful banner (and divider!) Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: pizza delivery guy! jungkook x reader x seokjin Genre: fluff, comedy (i think?), semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 1.5k Warnings/note: underage drinking, obsession with pizza, swearing, there has been a huge misunderstanding with who the reader is in love with, seokjin is oblivious with the readers feelings, jungkook being the other half of the busan torture device, i made some changes with their ages, pls tell me if there’s more warning i need to put. it’s a highschool! au but there will be an eventual time skip. Summary: You planned a grand gesture to confess to your long time crush (or as you like to call him: “the love of my life”) and things turned out to be horrible on your part. One, you accidentally confessed to the wrong person. Two, he accepted your confession. Three, your crush accepted someone else’s confession! aka you confessed to your pizza delivery guy and now he thinks the both of you are dating. delivery! ii  | requests are open | masterlist

“Hey, Chim.” You greeted your best friend and sat down next to him in the cafeteria. “Hello there--” Jimin stops when he sees how you look. “You look... how do I say this in the nicest way possible?” “Just say I look horrible, Chim.” You said as you put fries and chicken nuggets in your burger then taking a large bite, not caring if other people think it’s weird. “No, Y/N! You look, okay, you know what. You do look horrible, what happened to you?” Jimin held out his hand to feel your forehead, checking if you’re sick. “Stayed up all night planning my confession to Jin before he graduates and leaves me in this horrible hell hole with you.” “You’re my best friend in the whole wide world, too.” He sarcastically replies. “You think he’ll accept you if you confess to him looking like you got off from your role in the walking dead?” “Who’s confessing to who?” You smile when Sana--your recently new friend sits down in front of you. “Oh, Y/N is confessing to - mmh.” You shove fries in Jimin’s mouth to stop him from talking. He spits it out and glares at you. “You have someone you like, Y/N?” she asked. “Why didn’t I know that?” she puts her chin at the back of her hand, leaning in. “It’s Seokjin.” you said, you don’t notice how Sana stiffens and masks it with a bright smile. “That’s great, Y/N.” she says. She suddenly grabs your cheeks. “Why do you look so tired? You better get some rest.” “I will.” you say. she removes her hands to your face and starts to eat. “You’re too nice, Sana. I called her a zombie when I saw her.” Jimin says. “I personally th--” You shove chicken nuggets on his mouth to shut him up once again, instead of spitting it out he happily chewed it. You scan the whole cafeteria to check if he’s around, you know the love of your life Kim Seokjin. It’s easy to find him because he’s in the middle of everything, like the star that he is. His friends are bickering while he silently eats. He has always been calm when in public and prefers to let loose only with people that he’s comfortable with. Seokjin is your senior who has been your friend for a while now, he became close with you because of a competition the two of you joined for the school. You have grown close enough for you to have grown feelings for him. Seokjin suddenly met your eye, catching you staring at him (or ogling at him if you’re not Mr. Kim Oblivious Seokjin), he smiles and waves at you. You blush as you wave back. He tries to mouth something like “See you tonight.” You give him a thumbs up and then he goes back in eating his food. You sighed wondering why you fell in love with this dense guy in the first place. If he wasn’t even oblivious with your massive crush on him, you wouldn’t even plan this confession anyways. You stayed up all night preparing for this day to be perfect and you’ll be damned if your confession didn’t go as your plan. The confession will happen tonight. You hope he says yes and you don’t have to proceed to “plan: he doesn’t like me back” which is just eat 8 pints of ice cream while watching 27 dresses. Nevertheless, you hope for the best.

What you didn’t hope was Seokjin cancelling your plans. You asked him to call you if he’s on his way and you did receive a call, except he calls to tell you he couldn’t make it. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t make pizza night, my friend has an emergency.” He says over the phone. You began to feel down, you wished you pretend you had an emergency too so he would just come in but you felt guilty for his friend who probably is hurt. “I understand, you go do your thing.” You say. “I’m truly sorry, I’ll make it up to you. Bye.” He drops the call in a hurry.  Now you’re in an empty house (courtesy of your parents leaving you to go visit your sister studying in Europe) filled with decorations.  You hold onto your phone and call Pizzeria’s Haven-- the only pizza place you trust-- to order 2 cheese supreme so you can mope in peace while stuffing yourself later. You grab your mom’s margarita on the fridge and began pouring out for yourself in a mug, your mom didn’t mind because “As long as you do it in the house, you’re drinking responsibly, you promise not to vomit on the carpet, and most importantly not telling your dad that the bottles labeled ‘herbal supplement’ are margarita in disguise... you can drink to your heart’s content.” You take a sip from the mug as you skim through your netflix account to find Catching Fire, a movie that will make you feel better every time you see shirtless Finnick Odair. Your pizza arrives and you open the door to find Jungkook holding 2 boxes of pizza with a smile on his face.  “Delivery!” He greets when he sees your face. “Y/N!” “Hey, Jungkook!” You greet back and grab the pizza he’s holding and give him the money- with an extra for his tip. “Want to stay and eat this with me?” You guess you were too lonely and kinda tipsy that you impulsively ask if he wants to stay to eat pizza with you.  Jungkook grows flustered, “I- I can’t, I have to take calls and deliver pizza.” He declines, you raise your eyebrow. “What bullshit did Jimin say to get off work today?” You ask, knowing your friend tends to leave Jungkook to work by himself during weekend night shift. If he’s not the son of the owner he’s long fired from his job by now. “He’s actually busy serving dine-in customers, hectic night. I really gotta run.” He explains as he walks towards his motorcycle. “Good luck on that!” You say as you close your door. You put the pizza boxes on top of the coffee table, opening it to grab three slices then putting them together before you take a bite.  You planned everything to be perfect and it turn out this way. You might as well go crazy, get drunk, and purge yourself with pizza.

You woke up with a very bad headache the following day, you apparently passed out in your living room with the empty bottle of your mom’s ‘herbal supplement’ laying on the floor with you. You checked your phone for the time but saw skeptic messages from an unknown number and from Jimin. Unknown number [2:00 am]: Y/N it’s me [2:02 am]: It’s yes... [2:03 am]: I’ll come see you at 2 pm Chimmy boy [2:10 am]: yow bitch, you’re dating jeon jungkook?! i thought you’re confessing to seokjin? [2:11 am]: you got some explaining to do What the hell? You groggily unlocked your phone to reply to Jimin and ignored the messages from the unknown number... for now. Y/N [11:12 am]: jwu what r u talking about? explain in detail, im vv hangover Chimmy boy [11:20 am]: bitch you’ve been drinking without me, how dare you. Y/N [11:23 am]: ugh shut up, come over so we can talk Chimmy boy [11:27 am]: i’ll come tonight, want to sleep more You drop your phone to the sofa and start to clean off your mess from last night when few of the memories did came back to you. “Hey, you. I like you...Fuck...I like you so much.”  “I invited you and If you could have seen the effort I made! I mean, I know you were busy but you could’ve gone here after you’re done?” “Instead of a grand gesture sort of confession, I’m confessing to you on the phone! On the phone!”  “You have my number... you can tell me your answer by then. Just say yes or no, I’ll be waiting.” Oh no, you confess to Seokjin when you were drunk. You regret not hiding your phone away from your stupid drunk self but it seems as he said yes. So what’s with Jimin telling me I’m dating Jungkook?  Seokjin said yes and he’s coming to your house at 2 pm. You scream in excitement and run towards your closet to find something cute when you open the door for him later. You could use a shower too, it feels like you sweated the alcohol you consumed last night. By the time it was 2:03 pm someone rang the doorbell, you shake in nervousness when you open the door that reveals Jungkook smiling and holding flowers. Your eyebrows furrow seeing him. He hands you the bouquet of flowers and cheerfully say, “Delivery!”

[stevetonyweekly]

Reader Recs - SteveTony Weekly

It’s the end of the month and that means y’all get things you’ve been reading recently! 

***Indicate something I’ve read and enjoyed.

~*~ 

Here’s to Las Vegas by iam93percentstardust (Alternate Universe/1.5k) 

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Down in lonesome town by resurrectedhippo (Endgame Fix-it/79k) 

“Why do I always find my way back to you?”

Maybe he didn’t necessarily return to Steve, but fate is a funny little thing, and after living a life of loss, Steve wants something that’s his to keep. Tony deserves a love that’s unrestrained. Steve thinks he’ll erupt with it.

Love is messy, not easy, and takes work.

Maybe love feels like rage.

But maybe love could just be jumping off a rocky mountain and smiling anyway.

After the universe is restored, Steve is lost without any direction. Retiring from the Avengers, he moves across the country and ends up building a house by a misty blue lake. Across the bridge is Tony Stark’s new workshop.

This is not a drill by Sabrecmc (A/B/O/23K)

“Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

***you think you only know me when you turn on the light by sineala (MCU/ 13K) 

This wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Tony was supposed to be going on a date with Steve, not bleeding to death in the middle of Macy's on 34th Street because he'd been magically shanked by a sorcerer who didn't even have the decency to obey the goddamn laws of physics.

***bodyguard for the day by navaan (Identity Porn/11K) 

Tony gets kidnapped from his Stark Industries office. Steve gets taken with him. But AIM doesn't know they've mistaken Captain America for a simple security guy – and nobody knows Tony is Iron Man... Life is complicated.

Bridge over troubled waters by vorkosigan (Endgame Divergent/5.8k) 

After Thanos is defeated, Tony throws a party, like one does. Steve is there, and Tony thinks it's an awesome idea to seduce him, for old times' sake. Things get... complicated.

Scratching Posts and Love by talesofsuspense (Canon Divergent/7.6k) 

There’s a million reasons he can’t and shouldn’t get a pet, but his therapist apparently thinks they’re all just bad excuses and tells him as much.

your slightest look by stardating (Alternate Universe/4k) 

Romance novels said that love was not supposed to be about suffering, or some other poetic lie. Clearly, none of those authors ever spent their days coughing up bouquets.

***Tony stark vs the heteronormative agenda by sweatervest (MCU/11K) 

Nat leans her hip against the table and folds her arms. “Short of making out in public, I don’t think anyone will make the jump to ‘they’re dating.’”

Steve glances at her and then over at Tony.

Nat follows Steve’s gaze. “You did make out in public.”

“Steve never got his Time’s Square victory kiss,” Tony protests.

--

Or, five times the general public was determined to believe Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were just close friends, and the time Tony made sure they knew otherwise.

Three weeks from tuesday by thedevilchicken (Alternate Universe/2k) 

Tony's pretty sure Steve was joking when he proposed. He's pretty sure it's all just because Spider-Man can't let a good joke drop. But he's determined to find out.

***dear to me by sylvalum (Comics/5.7k) 

Tony has made peace with the fact that Steve will never love him back, except then a half-asleep Steve tells him that he loves him, swiftly launching Tony’s third existential crisis this month.

And the Avengers have a baby now, which is shaping up to be the fourth.

[dreamiguess]

FWT Week Day 1: Winter Ball

@fundyfiles ‘s FundyWasTaken week except I start a day late and had to write in a Starbucks. editing provided by MicrosoftWord

Day One: Winter Ball Word Count: 1.5k On ao3

1. Winter ball - Its Harry Potter au

“Wha?”

Jack rolls his eyes and lowers his hand. Fundy has no clue how long he had been talking to him while he was zoned out.

“I was talking,” he says sharply, “about Yule. Can you help set up?”

Of course. Jack was probably tying to recruit everyone he could, and if he was asking Fundy, he’d run out of underclassmen to bother. No one wanted to sacrifice their time that they would be getting ready to enchanting decorations or moving furniture in the great hall. He falls back into the armchair, looking at him sideways.

“C’mon, you’re great at charms. You could cut the amount of time it’d take in half,” Jack goads. He looks ready to start pleading. Fundy sighs.

“Fine. But because you’re my friend,” he relents. A grin stretches across the Hufflepuff’s face, like if he smiled any more his face would crack, like he’d leap across the desk to hug him.

“Good man! Are you planning on going?”

“Haven’t secured a date yet,” He groans, dropping his quill and giving up on doing any homework for afternoon.

“Neither do I, but not what I asked. Are you planning on going?”

Fundy’s mind wanders to blonde hair and a lopsided smile. It’s been doing that a lot, recently.

“I’d certainly like to.” Jack smiles again, something secretive. He’s a good friend and a better organizer, and he deserved his student council position more than anyone. It’s a shame he always has to fight for it. He probably works twice as hard as anyone to make things, like the Yule Ball, happen, and happen well. Not to mention the fact that he probably holds half their year’s impulse control. Sharp as a tack as well, apparently.

Doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be a dick about Fundy’s crush, even if he didn’t know who it was.

“I’m thinking about asking George, just for the meme,” he replies, and maybe Fundy is safe from prodding or teasing. Maybe.

“You don’t think he’ll be going with Dream? Or Sapnap?” he considers for a moment, “Or Dream and Sapnap?” He hopes he sounds casual, but he’s treading carefully. The answer is going to be yes, of course it is. They’re too good friends to do anything else. There’s a spark of hope somewhere, though, and Jack would know more than himself. Or make a better guess, not being…Biased.

“I don’t know,” he answers, slowly. “Sapnap’s going with Karl. And Dream?” He pauses again, really selling the act, before looking Fundy straight in the eye. “I think Dream might want to go with someone else.”

Sharp as a tack, and too kind to tease. Just breathe gently on the spark, try to coax it into a flame.

 Ravenclaw and Slytherin have Astronomy: Planets, Orbits, and their place in the universe together. Fundy took it because it was so late he could fit it into his schedule. Dream took it because he loves space, had worked his way through all the courses before this one. It suited him. And maybe it suited Fundy too, to watch him with stars in his eyes. To study the worlds unattainable.

Soon enough the professor is ending class and students are packing up their telescopes, quiet with exhaustion, and filling towards the stairs. Personally, he hates waiting a slow moving line down stairs that would not stand up to muggle safety codes, so he takes his time packing up and making small talk with their teacher. Dream seems to be holding back too, nudging George and gesturing towards the stairs. Probably telling him to go ahead.

There’s a part of him he thinks, that’s always aware of Dream.

And then he does something unexpected and walks directly towards Fundy. He suppressed the urge to smooth out his robes or run a hand through his hair. In a mirror image to Dream earlier, he nudges Niki to go on without him.

“Do you have a sec?” he asks, telescope slung over his shoulder and textbook clutched to his chest. Fundy almost wishes he asked Niki to stay to make it less personal than a one-on-one.

“Yeah, what’s up?” It comes out slightly slurred and he cringes internally. He’s more tired than he thought, apparently.

“I know this is weird because we’re not in the same house or anything, and you can totally say know, but I was wondering if you could help me out with transfiguration? I think you took Inanimates last year.” He had, actually, taken Inanimates last year. Got an A* and everything, but its odd that Dream knows that. Maybe the professor had recommended him? She should have recommended within the house, though. The last person must have said no, then.

“Yeah, sure. Library?”

“Not right now, idiot.”

“Friday?”

“Friday is good. Couple hours before dinner?” Fundy nods, closing his eyes for a beat. Friday. It gives him time to prepare, and not just transfiguration notes.

“See you then.” Dream smiles at him, lopsided and honest, and encourages him through the door ahead of him. The descent is awkward in the way of going the same direction after saying goodbye, even if they hadn’t formally ended their conversation. To be honest with himself, Fundy was probably creating his own discomfort with the help of anxiety. They ofbviously knew they would have to follow each other. They obviously knew there was only one staircase. Yet here he is, anxious about how he steps down, how fast (slow?) he’s going, how his hair looks from behind. But the staircase ends, and so does his decline into madness. He can speed to Ravenclaw Tower to freak out on his own.

They pause at the end, regard each other for a moment.

“I’ll see you on Friday, then,” Fundy breathes out, forcing his hands to stay in his pockets.

“Thursday, actually, Potions,” Dream corrects with a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d forgotten about that.

“Thursday.” Fundy turns to walk away, but Dream stops him.

“Can I walk you back?” he blurts out. “You look dead on your feet, I’d hate you to pass out in a corner somewhere before you make it to bed.”

Fundy prays he’s not blushing. Dream isn’t wrong, it’s been a long week. Every week is a long week these days, with a packed schedule and club leadership. It’s kind of him to notice.

“Sure, if you want. It’s kinda in the opposite direction from the dungeons though, so you really shouldn’t bother.”

He bothers.

He does more than bother. Takes his telescope right out of his hands and refuses to give it back and waits to make sure Fundy can solve his riddle. As the staircase slides open, all Fundy can do is wave shyly and listen to the other’s footfalls fade away.

 Friday rolls around fast. Too fast, maybe. Fundy gets to the library early, paces in front of the doors to expend some of his jittery energy. They hadn’t actually agreed on where in the library, so here he was, waiting and breathing into his unsettle stomach.

Apparently Dream wanted to be early as well because soon enough he’s fading into view, Sapnap in tow. He punches Dream in the arm when they finally catch sight of them, Dream shoving him away in turn. He nods at Fundy in greeting but keeps going, leaving the pair alone again. He must have been outside because his cheeks are stained in rose.

“Study room?”

“Nah, it looks gorgeous out. Let’s go to the lake.”

“Dude! It’s gotta be like, 7 degrees out there,” he protests. Dream stares at him.

“You could cast a warming charm in your sleep.”

Oh. Yeah. Dream doesn’t give him time to argue, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the entrance hall. He barely has time to mumble an incantation before being caught in the whirlwind that is a delighted Dream on a mission.

 It starts snowing half an hour in, leaving wet spots on their parchment like tears. He’s itching for an I told you so but Dream launches himself off the ground before he gets a chance, escaping their tree’s limited shelter into the flurry. He tosses his head back and flings his arms wide, letting his eyes close and smile grow bright. He’s a vision. Black robes stand out again the grey winter scene, with snow slowly decorating his shoulders like stars. The green at his neck is like a spot of Spring when the flora has long since wilted and the trees are bare. When he turns back towards Fundy there are flakes stuck in his eyelashes. He aches.

“I know it’s just snow,” he explains, bashfulness unable to dull him, “but I never got it back home. I saw it for the first time at Hogwarts.” He raises his shoulders towards his ears, “back in first year.”

His mouth moves without his permission.

“Go to Yule Ball with me?”

Dream smiles impossibly wider, smiles with his whole face, his whole chest.

“Merlin yes.”

[woozisnoots]

coke & henny | lee jihoon

° pairing: jihoon x reader ° genre: angst ° summary: jihoon wastes the day trying to make the pain go away ° word count: 1.5k ° warnings: excessive(?) alcohol consumption, jihoon breaks a glass ooops ° song: “coke and henny pt. 2” by pink sweat$ — listen

masterlist!

this obviously wasn’t jihoon’s first time at a bar. for a guy like him whose alcohol tolerance was so close to zero, he found himself going there a lot more recently in the past couple of days. six to be exact. the first night he came was an accident- unintentional. he was waiting at the bus stop before it started to rain. then it started to pour. and he stayed sitting there until the owner of the bar offered him a seat inside. maybe the owner was trying to be nice. but jihoon knew better and figured it was out of pure pity.

the atmosphere in the room was strangely comforting. it was dim with just a few lights lit at each corner and a sparkling chandelier hanging, acting as the centerpiece. the place itself was small but ironically, the people's occupancy made it feel more spacious. jihoon didn’t sit down anywhere. knowing the next bus would arrive in just a matter of minutes, he stood near the door and waited. there was a buzz in his pocket. out of reflex, he reached to grab the phone out of his front pocket. but stops just millimeters away. he heard the bus steer through the massive puddles, making an abrupt stop just outside the bar. he retracted his hand and proceeded to open the door. then he was gone.

to his surprise, jihoon came back the next night. he didn’t completely know why. it was the end of the day, he was tired and needed to go home. rest for yet another dreadful day to come. but right now, home was something he wanted to avoid. or forget. he didn’t know which one it was.

so that day, his feet led him to the bar instead at the bus stop. he sat at a corner near the exit but faced himself away from the door. he kept his head down, making his body feel heavy. his mouth was dry and the back of his throat was lingering. he asked the bartender if he could get a coke. it only tools seconds for a glass to appear in front of him. he murmured a small thank you as the bartender gave him a condoling smile that jihoon didn’t seem to catch.

the following night, jihoon apparently had company. a somewhat regular customer at the bar. a guy named hansol. they exchanged just a few words. mere short introductions. though hansol was observant. instead of getting regular coke, hansol ordered him coke mixed with hennessy. it was too late to deny since hansol already put both their drinks under his tab. once the drinks were on the table, hansol raised his glass slightly over his head and gave him a nod. jihoon scoffed. silent enough so hansol couldn’t hear. he didn’t need permission from someone two, three years his junior for him to drink. so he took the glass and took his first sip. and finished it.

it started with just one drink. and one drink was enough to get jihoon low and dizzy. but that didn’t stop him from consuming one drink after another. as the days progressed, jihoon stayed at the bar longer. for as long as four, even five hours, he consumed as much alcohol as he could. and instead of taking the bus, he would call his friend, soonyoung, to come pick him up afterward. usually someone wouldn’t be too thrilled to pick their drunk friend at the bar. but soonyoung knew this was an exception.

at this point, jihoon really thinks he can enjoy alcohol. or at least enjoy the sensation of being drunk. he likes the fact that he has no control over his body. his actions. his thoughts. his emotions. he loves the fact that he can forget. and let it have no effect on him. no responsibles. his body may not reciprocate the same feeling, but his mind is calm.

jihoon sits in the same corner spot. he’s already on his seventh glass. he can feel his face flush. but that still doesn’t stop him. before he could order yet another drink, he hears the entrance open. and in comes a familiar laughter. your laughter.

he freezes in his seat with his head down. he thinks that if he stays completely still, you won’t notice him. in hindsight, it works. you walk straight past him and sit at a table on the other side of the bar. he takes a glimpse. you look just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. he notes that you’re with your two best friends. he knows you guys haven’t properly hung out in a while. he can’t properly come up with the reasons why. or maybe he’s denying them. then jihoon notices an unfamiliar figure sitting next to you. he can only assume that the person is your new partner, seeing that their hand never seems to leave your thigh.

jihoon is thinking that it’s just the alcohol in his system, but a certain rush travels through his body. he feels some sort of anger coming down, slowly but it’s slaughterous. like a volcano about to erupt. the sensation travels to the very ends of his fingertips. and eventually down to his toes. once the anger has entirely consumed jihoon’s body, he stands up from his seat. the chair pushes back, making a loud screech. his eyes focuses on the empty glass in front of him and impulsively snatches it just to swing it at the nearest wall. shards of glass now scattered on the floor. he had just made his presence known. he doesn’t look, but he can feel your stare. you’re anxious and scared. he remembers you had a habit of holding on to him when you were scared. he doesn’t want to look at you. instead he stays looking down. he can’t stand being here any longer. not when he knows that you’re here. but you’re not here with him. so he leaves.

he’s fast walking. he’s in absolutely no condition to run. he has no idea where he’s even going and he honestly could care less. he needed to move as far away from you as possible. it was too painful. were they supposed to replace him? so instead of him, you plan to run to them, let them stand by you. lean on you. hold you. kiss you. love you. when he’s been doing that for years? all these nights, he was hoping that you kept his side of the bed empty. hoping there was even a piece, a sliver bit of your heart that still loved him. tonight, he found out how incredibly wrong he actually was. he just can’t believe it was all too easy. hopefully the alcohol helps to forget this too. just as long as he doesn’t have to hear-

“jihoon?”

he stops completely in his tracks. his body is in shock, that he can’t even properly breathe. he doesn’t know what to do. he knows that’s your voice. you’re here. and according to the loudness of your soft voice, he can tell that you’re just a few feet behind him. there’s a warm pit that starts to form in his stomach. damn. he hates that you have this effect on him. he’s supposed to resent you. hate you even. that’s how things are supposed to work, right? he loved you. you left him. he should hate you. so why does he turn his head just to look at your face as if it were the one last time?

he takes a deep inhale. if you were beautiful from afar, you were gorgeous up close. he holds his breath again. he didn’t have anything to say to you. he couldn’t. how could he? this was entirely your choice. he just wasn’t yours.

“are you okay?”

he opens his mouth to say something. but nothing comes out. all the energy and adrenaline finally starts to catch up with him, and he could feel his body taking a toll. his knees buckled. he suddenly couldn’t feel any motion in his hands. his head felt heavy. the buildings surrounding the two of you were spinning. jihoon didn’t believe in ghosts, but if this were a sign, he wouldn’t mind if the ghosts got to him now. he’s surprised he lasted this long to be honest. his body gradually starts to fall forward. but just before he completely collapses, he sees your blurry figure rush to catch him. he doesn’t even fully register that he’s fallen straight into your arms.

all his weight is on you now. jihoon’s afraid you’ll just push him off. but you keep your stance, letting him hang on you. he wonders if he should feel guilty. but it’s so nice being in your embrace. almost to the point that it’s sickening. he just can’t find the means to feel any sort of way. except for relief. his body starts to ease but his body is still heavy. he knows you have someone else when you go back. but right now, it was as if you were still his. because you’re here. and you didn’t let him fall.

he just wishes he could do the same for you.

[buckysmischief]

sweetest girl - 2

Scott Lang x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: language

Summary: You were a highly trained assassin who needed the Avengers help. Tony isn’t a fan, not yet. Steve really has all the patience in the world. Bucky is, again, waiting for his past to blow up in his face. And Scott, well Scott has a very important question for you. Sucks for him that you’re not much of a talker.

AN: I'm really sorry this took so long, y'all deserve more but this is all I have until next time ❤️

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜

The next day was business as usual; skipping therapy, training, team meetings, everything after that was personal time unless something important came up. A perk to skipping your therapy session was that you got the training area to yourself. You still had to participate with everyone else, but at least this way you could mentally, and physically, prepare yourself to deal with the others.

You began with stretching your body, even though you won’t be going on missions it still wouldn’t be smart to pull anything during training. Just in case. You started with your arms and wrapped it up by stretching out your legs before a run. Halfway through your mile the team walked in, including Scott.

“What a surprise to see you here so early, Yn.” Steve sarcastically said. You ignored him and kept running, they would be ready by the time you were finished.

It was Natasha’s day to train with you, which meant the next two hours were dedicated to your legs. Thanks to your above average hearing you heard her coming, blocking what would have been a kick to your head.  “You’re getting better, Natasha.” you confess, dropping her leg.

“Was that a compliment?” without skipping a beat, she’s going for your head again. The two of you instantly are insync with each other after that, trading off blocking the other. You decided to switch things up, so the next time she grabbed your ankle you used it to your advantage. Quick with your feet, you hoisted yourself onto her shoulders and used your weight to slam you both on your backs.

When you and Natasha would train together, you would both block the rest of the room out. Mostly because you needed to focus, but also because everyone would like to spectate every now and then.

“Do they have that choreographed or are they both scary?” Scott asked while watching you and Natasha get back up and start again.

“You got a crush, Tic-Tac?” Sam walked up to Scott, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What? No. She could totally kick my ass.” he looked at Sam, “Yeah, probably.”

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll definitely kick your ass.”

“I hope so.” Scott breathed out.

-

When training was done for the day, you left before everyone else like usual, or so you thought. You decided to take a detour to the kitchen to make some lunch, but Scott was already there preparing something for the whole team.

“Whatcha makin’?” you only ask while no one else is around, wanting to get your own opinion on him. Just because the Avengers trust him doesn’t mean you automatically should.

He’s standing at the stove, back towards you, “They told me about you, you know? About how you haven’t talked to anyone but Cap since you got here, if you can even call that talking.” He turns around and puts a plate in front of you, “It’s just a grilled chicken salad. Anyways, what’s your deal?”

You pick at the food in front of you for a minute or two while contemplating your response, “I guess you’re gonna wait to find out. Tic-tac.” The rest of the team began to walk in just as you finished your sentence.

“You heard them coming didn’t you?” he was looking directly at you, not acknowledging the team at all.

The tension in the room grew with each passing second, no one knowing quite sure what was going on, only that there was definitely something going on between you and Scott. While they made their plates and began to eat, you hadn’t broken eye contact with him for a second.

Bucky speaking to you, in Russian to everyone's surprise, breaks your concentration, “Stop looking at him like he’s your prey.”

You look back at Scott and smirk, “What makes you think he isn’t?” Bucky, Wanda, and Natasha are the only ones who understand enough to laugh at your response.

“Did we step into the Twilight Zone or something? What’s going on?” Sam finally asks, “Scott shows up and you’re suddenly social, even speaking Russian to Winter Wonder over here?”

“I could always stop.” you tease.

“Does this mean you’re going to start being an active member of the team?” Of course Steve had to ask the question, you would have been surprised if he didn’t.

“Sure, Rogers. If it means I can finally leave the property.” you put your empty plate in the sink and begin to walk back to your room. “See you suckers at the meeting later!”

-

It was odd at first, everyone seeing you around more. You started going to the meetings, get a feel for everyone's place and how they feel about different things. Then you started going to your therapy sessions, which wasn’t progressing at all but “it only matters that you’re going, yn, it shows initiative.”  The only thing that changed about training was that you stayed longer with the rest of the team, but even that was progress to them. But the thing you started to do that not only shocked the team, but yourself, was accepting an offer to movie night.

“Hey, Yn, wait up.”

“Hey, Scott. What’s up?” you were both leaving another strategy meeting. There were rumors that a HYDRA cell was gathering in the Bronx, and apparently Steve and Tony thought you were ready for your first mission.

“Well, um. I didn’t quite think this through.” you laugh and gesture for him to follow you. “Right, so, Sam told me they planned a movie night for tonight-”

“What movie?” lately you’ve made a habit of throwing Scott off whenever possible. You noticed that whenever you would give a smart ass remark, he would be ready with another, but for some reason, whenever you talked to him like a normal person, he’d get flustered. And that was intriguing.

“Uh, he picked Clueless I think-”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“You’ve never seen Clueless??”

“I didn’t have much of a personal life up until recently.”

“Oh yeah,” he stopped walking, “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” You reassured him that it was all okay, and instead of dragging it out, you told him to save you a seat next to him later that night. And he did.

That’s how you ended up in the situation you were in now; laying in an open field on the compound, watching the stars, and spilling details about yourself to none other than Scott Lang.

“So, why did it take you so long to open up to everyone? They’re pretty easy people to get along with, you know, if they’re not trying to kill you.” You were out there for hours at this point, it had to be past midnight.

“I just never remember trusting anyone. I don’t, didn’t know what it felt like. When Bucky and Wanda saw me getting on the jet they immediately took me on and detained me. I understood why, but that didn’t make me want to trust them. Especially since my options were here or the Raft.”

“I wouldn’t recommend the Raft.” Scott laughs.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” you pause, “But, um.  What really pulled me out of my comfort zone was you.. There was just something about a stranger coming in, knowing about me, and not being afraid. Not wondering if they were going to be added to my kill list. It felt good, still feels good. I feel like I’m making progress now, so I guess this is me thanking you.”

He stands up and pulls you to your feet, “Don’t go soft on me now, killer. We gotta mission to go on tomorrow.” But before you both walked back inside, he added, “I’m always here though if you need anything, Yn. I mean that.” He then grabbed you by the hand and walked you to your room, promising to save you a seat at breakfast.

-

The next morning when you don’t show up to breakfast, Scott had assumed you slept through your alarms. He started to get suspicious when he heard you skipped therapy. But when the whole team realized you weren’t coming to training, he suggested they go check your room.

When they opened your bedroom door, they noticed your room was a mess, and since no one has been in it, they didn’t know that wasn’t normal. Wanda and Steve checked your bed and bathroom, but you were nowhere to be found. “FRIDAY, do you notice anything out of place here?” Tony asked, starting to get worried.

FRIDAY took a moment to scan the room, “Everything, Mr. Stark, but what’s most out of place is the note under Miss Yln bed, the handwriting doesn’t match her or anyone that has access to the compound.”

Wanda picked the note up off the floor and read it, hoping it would help identify where you were. “It’s HYDRA, they took her.”

🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜

Permanent tags: @sociallyeneptbarnes @rogvewitch @saturn-aka-six @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @infj-slytherclaw @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @disaffectedbarnes @screaming-fridge @readeity @aestheticrelated @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @sebbbystaaan @perpetually-tuned-out @distractedgemini @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @sandyclaws @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @actualdpshuri @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @https-bucky @nea90sweetie @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove 

Series tags: @chiefwobblerauthorrebel & I think I lost some others I'm sorry

[smalltowndetective]

Love Like You-Part 12

Hope you enjoy! :)

Links to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, 

Part 10, Part 11

Ao3 Link for all of them together

Title: Love Like You: Part 12

Pairing: Adam and Thea

Words: 1.5k

Series Summary:  Adam was used to pushing her away, but Thea had stuck by his side anyway. This time he may have finally done it, and now is in the danger of losing her forever

Part Summary: Thea and the others start the interrogation  

Tags: @sosolenoo @ihavethemindofamaster @lilyoffandoms @anotherbeingsworld @zizzlekwum (Tell me if you don’t want to be tagged again!)

Part Note: This part I am little unsure on, especially characterization wise for one Specialist Agent. I’ve rewritten and taken stuff out a few times, but it still feels kind of off to me. This is the closest I’ve gotten to something that I enjoy, so I hope you enjoy! 

“Looks like there giving me the songbird first”, the trapper purred as Thea entered the room, sitting in the chair across from him, and she tried to fight down her nerves, “How are you liebling?”

               Just keep calm, make him comfortable. Mason will help with the rest.

               “I’m doing good”, she said, giving him a smile, trying to sound as convincing as possible, trying to shed away all that was happening with her personally, since that was not the focus now. She had a job to do. “But I suppose it is really you I should be asking that question”

               “Liebling, I’m stuck in an interrogation room, what do you think?”, he said, his voice getting darker than before, and Thea felt herself swallow hard before continuing.

               “I am here to help you with that”, she replied, opening the file in front of her that Mason had given her before continuing, and she scanned her eyes over it again, “So, Miles Klingemann, right?”

               “You’re more than willing to call me whatever you like”, he said with a sultry tone in his voice that made her skin crawl.

               Doing her best to ignore it, she continued, “You’re here because of your ties to a group of trappers. Now, if you’re willing to talk, you might end up with a lighter sentence”

               “Oh, I might, liebling?”, he interrupted, “You don��t seem too confident in that”

               “Because that’s up to the information you’re willing to provide”, she countered, fighting down the frustration in her voice, “Telling me unimportant details won’t get you anywhere”.

               “You drive a hard bargain, songbird”, he said, giving a small laugh that immediately set her on edge, and he did his best to lean on his hands even with the handcuffs, “What is that you want to know?”

               “Your file says that you may have information about where some prisoners that your group took”, she answered, reading over the file quickly, “How about we start there?”

               “And you thought you’d get an answer?”, he scoffed, flashing her a glare, “I’d rather rot in a cell then tell you. No offense of course to you, liebling. You seem lovely.

               “But what do you have to gain from not telling me?”, she asked, “You’re not getting the profit in here”

               The trapper gave a deep chuckle, “Oh, thinking that way, aren’t you? I’m impressed. Wouldn’t have expected you to put it together that way. But would you betray your friends for profit? You don’t seem like the type to. Honestly, you seem like the type of person who would care too much about what others think”

               I can’t let him focus this on me, this isn’t about me. Turn it around Thea

               Don’t let him interrogate you.

               “They seemed to leave you behind, and ran for the hills when the Agency got there”, she said, trying her best to give him a smirk, “With friends like that, who needs enemies?”

               He threw her a sneer, apparently hitting too close to the mark, “You might want to watch what you what you say, songbird. You don’t know what you are talking about”

               “And I’m not going to know, unless you tell me”

               “Why do you care so much about this?”, he asked, “What do you have to gain?”

               “This isn’t about what I have to gain”, said Thea, “I’m doing my job. You should be more concerned with your own fate then anything to do with me”

               “Oh, but you’re just so interesting, liebling”, he purred, “You’re not like any of those other agents”

               “I’m offering you to tell me what you know about the prisoners”, she said, trying hard to ignore all of the attempts to try and switch the focus on her, “And anything else about the innerworkings of the trappers that you work with. I’m not taking anything else from you”

               “You should consider it”, he chuckled, flashing her a grin, but it was without warmth, “We could have a lot of fun together”

               The statement about made her choke, but she did her best to act like it did not bother her, “I’m offering you to tell me what you know if exchange for a lighter sentence. That’s it”.

               “Who broke your heart, songbird?”, he suddenly asked, and that about threw her off.

               “What are you talking about?”

               “I’ve done a few interrogations of my own, you know. I’ve seen that look before. You’re trying hard to hide it, but the wounds are still fresh. How recent was it?”

               Thea gave a shaky breath, not knowing what on earth she could possibly say, gripping the file tighter in her hands.

               The trapper gave her a smirk, as if he knew he had her, “Oh dear, you thought you could hide it from me? With your open face, I don’t think you could hide anything if you tried”

               He’s trying to get under your skin.

               And he’s succeeding.

               Don’t let this ruin the interrogation.

               Just when she had finally collected herself, trying to ignore the devilish smile that widened even more the longer she took, and as soon as she was about to try and get the subject off herself, the door to the room opened, and Mason came to stand behind her.

               “That’s enough”, he growled, and she watched in surprise as the trapper almost seemed to shrink from his presence, but he tried to give a smirk.

               “Your knight in shining armor, liebling?

               “Cut the crap”, Mason spat, “You had your chance to make this easy for you, but you’ve lost that now. You’re going to tell me what you know, or I’ll make you curse the day you were born”

               The trapper rolled his eyes at that, “What’s in this for me?”

               Mason leaned forward to get into his face, “What do you have?”

               “It’s rumored that the prisoners are being kept in an abandoned building in Augusta”, he sighed, “Mind you, I’ve never seen it myself. But it’d be the place that I’d look first”.

               “And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

               “It’s all you have, isn’t it Agent?”, he countered, “But, there should be texts on my phone talking about the place and its location, once you crack into it of course”

               Mason looked like he was going to ask something else, but he decided against it, “I’ll be back later once I have confirmation of what you’re telling me is true, and you better pray to God that it is”. He turned to Thea, “Come on”

               “It’s been nice meeting you”, the trapper said as she left, “Hopefully you recover quickly, liebling”.

               Thea felt like her heart was strangled at the thought of it, and Mason gently moved her forward, and she finally excited the room.

               “Mason, I’m sorry”, she said as the door shut behind them, “I shouldn’t had let it affect me- “

               “Thea, stop apologizing”, Mason stated firmly, “It was low of him to do. You handled it as best as you could”

               “But I shouldn’t have let him affect me like that”, she frowned.

               “He was trying to gain the upper hand”, Mason shrugged, “And he was desperate”.

               “And he got it”, she said, “What was I supposed to do?”

               “You did what you were supposed to do. You kept calm and didn’t make the situation worse. No one could fault you for that”

               She gave a weak nod, not fully believing him, and the worries started to fill her head.

               If I had been able to put what happened behind you, would we have gotten more out of him?

               Probably. It’s your fault for not being able to not think what happened with Adam for five seconds

               Thea shook her head to try and remove the thoughts from her head, and Felix came bounding up to her, and he wrapped her into a hug. She was a bit surprised at it, but she did eventually return it.

               “I heard what he said”, he whispered, “I hope you’re okay”

               “I will be”, she said, giving him a smile, “It was just a bit unexpected”

               Even though she said that, the trapper’s words still rang in her head

               “Hopefully you recover quickly, liebling”

               She shuddered at the thought, but she did her best to put it behind her as Mason came walking up to the two of them, “So, what’s the plan?”

               “We wait until we get a confirmation”, he explained, “And then we go check out the place ourselves”

               “Sounds good”, she said, giving him a nod, and she pulled her phone out to check her email, since her mother had told her she would send her something in relation to the case soon.

               But afterwards, she got the sudden urge to call Adam, and she was not sure why. It was almost like she wanted to tell him what happened, but she was confused as the reason she was feeling this way.

               What would you even say if you did?

               Sighing, she put her phone back in her pocket, and went to follow Felix through the facility.

Please tell me if you want to be tagged in the next part?

[surlybobbies]

For the Love of the Game [deancas, 1.5k, T]

Summary:

“A tense moment on the field between good friends. Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball? What do you think, Joe? Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me. Fair challenge. Though judging by his reaction, it looks like Winchester doesn’t agree."

(Dean and Cas over the course of three years as players of opposing soccer teams.)

Author’s notes: written in the 90 minutes it took to watch a soccer game at 1am.  I’m a sucker for athlete Dean and Cas.

Read on ao3 or

“Of course, Winchester and Novak have known each other since they were kids.  Best friends, these two, off the pitch.  On the pitch, however, as I’m sure we’ll see today, is a different story.”

The loss is a difficult one to take; it means that Cas and his team are now on the bottom half of the league table, a position they haven’t been in for well over a decade.  

After the final whistle, Dean jogs to Cas, whose hands are clutching at his hair in disbelief.  Dean puts his hands around Cas’s face, forcing Cas to look at him.  “You okay?”

Cas closes his eyes and grits his teeth.  He’s probably thinking about the goal Dean had scored just 10 minutes before the final whistle, and how he’d been unable to prevent it.  “I will be.”

Dean sighs and pulls Cas in for a rough hug.  “I’ll tell mom you’re coming over this weekend.”

“How long is she in town?” 

“Just a week,” Dean says.  “She’ll want to see you.”

Cas shoves him away and scrubs his face with both hands.  “Just let me know.”

++

“Apparently they stay at each other’s bachelor pads over holidays.”

It’s been coming for years, but when Cas pulls Dean in for a kiss on Christmas, it’s still a surprise.  Dean takes a few moments to fully register what’s happening, that Cas is really finally kissing him, but once it sinks in, he is definitely on board with the developments, and he pushes Cas against the wall and starts to thoroughly enjoy himself.

A century later, Cas pulls away.  “This is unwise,” he says breathlessly.

Dean’s dizzy with Cas’s touch.  He touches Cas’s face because he can’t stand not touching him.  “You started it,” he says, all he can think of to say.

Cas frowns a little bit, but his nostrils flare with how hard he’s breathing.  “How I got here, kissing an absolute idiot, I have no idea.”

“You’ve also got a hand up my shirt,” Dean supplies unhelpfully, “if you wanted to get around to removing that.”

Cas arches an eyebrow, and Dean likes it.  “Do you want me to remove it?” Cas asks, leaning in again, dragging his hand down to Dean’s waistband at an agonizingly slow pace.

Dean’s hopeless - absolutely done for.  “Definitely not.”

“Good,” Cas growls, and Dean likes that a lot.

++

“Their rivalry seems to fuel their friendship - or is it the other way around?”

“Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you this Saturday,”

Dean’s lounging, one hand behind his head, watching the progress of Cas’s lips down his chest with lidded eyes.  “Wouldn’t love you if you did.”

There’s a long pause.  Cas lifts his eyes to watch Dean’s expression, but it doesn’t waver.  The only sign of nerves is in the way his throat moves.  Cas acknowledges the word with a small smile and a lingering kiss to the center of Dean’s chest.  Later, he’ll murmur the word over and over and over into Dean’s hair, his hands on Dean’s ass, encouraging him, and Dean will swell and break with it.

++

“A tense moment between good friends.  Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball?  What do you think, Joe?  Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me.  Fair challenge.  Though it looks like Winchester doesn’t seem to agree.”

“Could have broken my leg, Cas,” Dean spits.

Cas is adjusting his shin pads.  He looks up at Dean.  “Hardly - it was a fair challenge.”

Dean gets up right in his face when Cas straightens.  Cas has seen this face in the throes of pleasure and he knows he’ll see it again; he lifts his chin and smirks, knowing how much Dean will hate it.  

“Also, ref begs to differ,” Cas says, winking.  “No foul.”

“Jesus, you’re a cocky bastard.”

“And you’re a shit striker.”

“You shouldn’t even be on the field with a challenge like that.”

Cas is getting back into position, walking backwards so he can throw one last remark at Dean: “You shouldn’t even be on the field with skills like that.”

Dean’s face turns red.  “What’d you just say?”

In the end the ref has to separate them; no cards are shown, but neither of them talk to the other for two weeks.

It goes without saying that the eventual make-up sex is fantastic.

++

“It’s Novak’s last game for the Angels - he’ll be officially retired at the end of these 90 minutes, aged 35.  Fitting that his greatest rival and friend should be on the pitch with him, albeit playing for the opposition.”

Cas is subbed at 87 minutes for his last ovation from the home crowd.  They adore him as he adores them, and Dean knows this last walk off the field has got to be an emotionally harrowing moment for Cas.

Dean hopes his fans won’t give him too much shit for what he does next: he pulls Cas in for a rough hug as Cas walks to the touchline to be subbed.  He doesn’t look Cas in the eye, and shoves him away before either of them do something stupid like cry.

++

“Back for the second half of the first game of the season, and Dean Winchester’s 37th minute goal is the only thing separating the two sides.

As most know, Winchester announced over the break that he and his best friend and former Angels player Cas Novak have been dating.  There’s been quite a bit of backlash, mostly from fans who think their relationship has swayed their performances over the years, but both Winchester’s manager and Novak’s former manager have laughed off that particular suggestion.  What do you think, Greg?”

“No, they’ve both been consummate professionals, haven’t they, over the years?  Obviously good friends - well, we know why now - but it never stopped either of them from giving it their all on the pitch.”

“They both loved the game too much to let anything affect it.”

It’s not fun, being the only player in the league out of the closet.  His teammates don’t treat him any differently, but Dean sometimes feels like he’s slowly being frozen out.

“It’s because you didn’t say anything to us.”

“What the hell was I supposed to say, Benny?  ‘I’m fucking a guy, and it’s Cas Novak’?”

Benny sighs.  “I don’t know, Dean.  They just want to know their captain’s being honest with them.  Sleeping with the opposition is pretty shady, alright?”

Dean hangs his head.  He understands.  He’s still pissed, still frustrated, but he makes up his mind.  He slams his locker to get everyone’s attention.  “Just figured you all would want to know,” he says loudly, a little angrily, “I’m asking Cas to marry me tonight.”

Stunned silence.  Dean stares them all down, daring any of them to say anything.  If he has to knock someone out for talking shit about Cas, he swears he’ll do it and damn the consequences.

But nothing happens.  Ash grins, scratching his neck.  “We’re invited to the wedding, right?”

The laughter that follows breaks the ice.  Dean tries and fails to stop himself from crying when they all come forward to congratulate him.

++

“Dean Winchester made history by marrying Cas Novak over the break.  It’s a great moment in sport, but he’s opened up in a recent interview regarding the homophobic abuse he and his husband have received.”

“A shame that.  The sport needs to do more to support their LGBTQ+ players.”

“Agreed.  But despite all that, Winchester says he’s proud to lead the way for others to come out in his wake.  Plus, his husband is here to watch his first game of the season, so that must make up for it somewhat.”

“He’s probably not happy to see Novak in Angel colors, though!”

“The rivalry lives on!”

“Who wants to bet that it’ll be a tense atmosphere in the Novak-Winchester home tonight?”

Cas is solemn as he greets Dean at the door of their home, but Dean scowls at him anyway.  “Don’t think I didn’t see you cheering when they scored.”

Cas looks a little abashed.  “They’re my friends, Dean.”

“I’m your husband.”

Cas hides his smile in Dean’s neck.  “And I love you.”  He wraps his arms around Dean so he can’t wriggle away.  “But I also love my team.  My fans would have rioted if I’d shown up in your jersey.”

Dean doesn’t bother arguing.  He played for the full 90, and the emotional toll of the loss is just now sinking in.  “I’m ready to go to bed,” he says, his voice raw.

“Alright,” Cas says, kissing Dean on the cheek.  “I’ll be there soon.”

Dean is half asleep when Cas walks in wearing Dean’s jersey and a pair of sweatpants - then Dean’s suddenly wide-awake and half-hard.

Cas gets under the covers and leans over Dean, smelling like shampoo and toothpaste.  “Good night,” he says cheerfully.

Dean stares at his husband, marveling at the audacity.  Finally, he says, “You’re such a jackass,” but diminishes the effect by pulling Cas in roughly by the front of the shirt and kissing him, much to Cas’s delight.

_____________ tag list:

@super-powerful-queen-slayyna @lifeisingrey @fangirlingtodeath513 @levicastho @dontlosethemoon @dmsilvisart @hello-vague-stuff @bold-sartorial-statement @snarkysnartes @massivefaceperson @dontlosethemoon @livebloggingmydescentintomadness @yourspecialeyes @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover​ @profoundnet

(if you’ve asked me to put you on the tag list and i haven’t I’M SO SORRY i was bombarded with a bunch of notifs and may have missed it… send me an ask - replies sometimes get buried esp if you don’t reply on the original post - and i’ll update the list!)

[spicyfloaty]

Give & Take | Chapter 1

pairing: kacchako 

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 1.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

note: i accidentally deleted my tumblr account and now im gonna post these all over again god fucking dammit sdkjfhkjhkfd 

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter One: Hesitation and Acceptance

“I don’t think you need anyone telling you what you most likely already know, but you’re failing almost all of your classes, Uraraka.”

Ochako already had an inkling as to what this sudden meeting was for, but the news still hits her as hard as it would if she were hearing it the first time. She was aware of how fast her grades had been slipping these past few weeks, but she couldn’t really do much about it since she already had her part time job to worry about, let alone the extra training she had been doing to make up for the classes she had been missing because of said part time job. She barely even had any more time to visit her parents to give them the paycheck she just got that month, how is she going to find the time, hell, the energy, to cram 2 weeks-worth of homework in one night?

Her eyes drop to her feet, “I know, Mr. Aizawa, it’s just that I can hardly fit anything into my schedule anymore.” She knows this wasn’t an excuse her professor would accept that easily, she just knows. She grips the fabric of her skirt as her guts sinks lower and lower, shame and disappointment weighing on her like a ton of bricks. A few seconds pass and she hears Aizawa sigh. She looks up to see a piece of paper being slid across the table, “I heard about your father’s injury. Balancing your responsibilities here at UA and the responsibilities you have at home isn’t an easy thing to do, but I thought of a schedule that might lighten the load.”

Ochako scans the schedule her teacher had made for her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes upon realizing that he was right, it did lighten the load. Her attention then zeroes in on the text written beside Thursday and Friday, Tutoring Session, but what catches her off guard was the name directly below it.

Bakugo Katsuki.

“I see you already noticed the cost that comes with this proposition,” Ochako didn’t even realize her mouth was open until Mr. Aizawa pointed his pen at it. Bakugo? Is he seriously going to have Bakugo Katsuki, the boy with the fuse as short as the width of a hair, the boy whose every waking moment was dedicated to being angry at absolutely nothing, tutor her, someone he’s barely spoken more than 10 words to, most of all someone who’s friends with the apparent center of all his rage. Well, the friends part was still debatable.

“You’re joking—” It was only until her palm flew straight to her mouth when she realized that she already spoke her mind.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Mr. Aizawa asks pointedly. “I already made arrangements with the rest of your teachers to accommodate for the time you will be spending on your part time job, you will be having at least 4 hours of tutoring a week with Bakugo on Thursdays and Fridays to make up for it.”

Ochako was still staring at her new schedule, as if looking at it any longer would change anything about it. Her thoughts began to race, desperately thinking of some kind of alternative she could offer, “What about Momo?” She looks up at Aizawa only to find his gaze locked on his computer screen. He clicks a few keys, “She already has her hands full with Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou.”

Ochako takes a deep breath and thinks harder, “Iida?” Aizawa presses a few more keys and takes a sip out of his coffee mug, “He’s already helping Momo out with those three.”

She looks away, eyes darting to anywhere but the god forsaken schedule in front of her hoping for another idea to fly by her mind before it’s too late. Another name pops in her head, she wouldn’t even think about considering being alone with him again given their history and the awkwardness that followed it, but these were desperate times and it called for desperate measures.

”What about…Midoriya?” This time, Aizawa faces her, a part of her hoped that it was because she had given him an option he hasn’t considered yet, but to her dismay, she was wrong.

“Yes, Midoriya was my first choice while putting all of this together, but after checking with All Might, he said that it would “interfere” with Midoriya’s schedule.” Aizawa explains with a hint of annoyance. Ochako should have known this, she should know more than anyone else that Deku’s time had been spent more and more with training lately.

Ochako felt defeated, she couldn’t think of anything else to say to try and convince her teacher that she would do anything else except being taught by Bakugo. It’s not like she was scared of him or anything, sure, she didn’t want to have a one on one session with someone who would flip the table if she forgot to carry the one, but the truth is that she admired him almost as much as she did Deku. It was a no-brainer to anyone that as hot headed as Bakugo might be (is), he is consistently one of Class 2A’s, if not UA’s, top performing students. The main reason she was against this unfortunate match up was because she's a hundred percent certain that Bakugo wouldn’t consent to it.

“Is Bakugo okay with this?” She asks, Aizawa’s gaze shifts to the back of the office, she follows and instantly gets her answer. She didn’t notice it when she first came in, but there were prominent scorch marks splashed across the wall with soot dusting the floor beneath it. If someone were to just pass by without giving it a second glance, it would almost look like shadows. Judging by how fresh it looked, she assumed that Bakugo’s talk with Aizawa wasn’t long before hers. It’s either that or her professor was simply too lazy to clean it off.

“He obviously had more…opinions regarding this, but after further…discussion, it was mutually decided that this would be the best option that would benefit the both of you.”

Both of us? Just how could Bakugo possibly benefit from tutoring her?

“No one gets to stay at UA with above average marks alone.” Aizawa adds. Turns out Bakugo was dangerously nearing suspension because of his recent behavior, sending 2 2C students to the infirmary would be the highlight of said behavior, Ochako still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. How could she not? She was the first one from their class to walk by and see the altercation, obscured by a growing crowd egging on the fight. She never found out what it is Bakugo was yelling about, but she knew enough cuss words to decode part of a sentence or two, but it wasn't what he was saying that stuck with her though, it was the way he looked. She had always seen him angry on a daily basis to know what he looked like upset, but as he was being dragged away, she could have sworn that for a split second, she saw his expression slip from one of anger to that of sadness.

"Simply put, Bakugo's conduct, despite his grades being top notch, could very much end up being the cause of his expulsion."

Aizawa offered Bakugo a way to somehow salvage his conduct grade by pairing him with a struggling classmate in order to show the Administration Board that he was displaying compassion and camaraderie. Aizawa saw this as an opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.

If only one of the birds didn’t know how to hit back, harder.

After explaining, he asks her once more, not like she had much of a choice, if she was on board with the plan. Her mind drifts to an image of Bakugo suspended, spending the week alone in the dorms while everyone else spends it in their classes. Ochako wasn’t blind for her to not notice the expression Bakugo wore, almost the same kind as the one she remembered from the fight, whenever she saw him during the mornings when he and Deku were placed under house arrest last year. They haven’t spoken to each other that much, if you can count tch and outta the way, round face as conversations, but she knew that if there was anyone who genuinely wanted to be in class, as much as he doesn’t care to make it obvious, it was Bakugo. Her heart ached at the thought of Bakugo missing out on classes and training when the first thing about him was his unrelenting drive to be the best in all of them.

With terrible timing, another idea floats inside her head, but Ochako already knew what her answer was. She knew that she can easily offer to take supplementary classes with one of their teachers instead, but she realized that maybe Bakugo needed this more than she did.

Which is why she agrees.

[shirasade]

More detective AU - the longest to date (I think), at almost 1.5k words, and it’s smutty! :) I’m tagging all entries with “medent au” - and there’s also a masterlist, with all ficlets in both posting and chronological order. This is set sometime after they got wet, but before Fighter starts dating Hwahwa. (Oh, and in case this wasn’t obvious before, I’m totally pushing my sub!Fighter agenda here. *g*)

Feel free to drop me asks and prompts about this ‘verse.

Fighter had a problem. Said problem was currently briefing their Chief about the theory they'd developed about the recent murder, laying out the facts in his usual calm manner, his voice firm. He was also wearing light-blue jeans and a fluffy pink sweater, because they'd been called in on their day off and Tutor had obviously thought there wasn't time to change into his work uniform of trench coat, turtle neck and slacks.

This was a problem because Fighter was half-hard in the linen shorts he was wearing. Tutor looked good enough to eat on a normal day, his clothes always impeccably tailored to show off his slim but well-muscled physique, but Fighter had developed a certain immunity to that look. Right now, however, his partner just looked... touchable, more vulnerable and open without the armour of his regular clothes. Fighter's fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, although he wasn't sure whether he wanted to run his hands all over the sweater or cup Tutor's cheeks, which somehow seemed rounder, softer than normal, his lips pinker, more inviting.

Closing his hands into tight fists and cursing internally, Fighter tried to shut down this treacherous train of thought and focus on Tutor's words instead. At some point he would almost certainly be expected to chime in, after all, and he somehow didn't think that, "Sorry, but I was too busy imagining my partner's mouth around my dick," would go down well with either the Chief or Tutor. Taking a deep breath, he managed to rein in the worst of his arousal and even offered some additional information, although he was pretty sure he caught Tutor giving him a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. Fighter studiously ignored this, doing his best to pretend everything was normal.

In reality, nothing about this whole thing was normal. What confused Fighter most of all was that he'd never had much a problem controlling his libido. He'd always found flirting easy, earning himself a reputation as a bit of a ladies' man, but he'd rarely felt the urge to follow through. That was until Tutor, whose very existence appeared designed to complicate Fighter's life, and who, ever since that kiss in the evidence room, only needed to stand close or smile for Fighter to suddenly having to fight an inopportune boner like a hormonal adolescent. The fact that it was his male partner who'd brought out this new side of him was something he tried very hard not to think about.

It had only gotten worse since the night that Tutor had insisted on taking Fighter home with him. Now he knew what his partner looked like shirtless, and the feeling of his bare chest pressed against his own, his breath gusting hotly over Fighter's flushed face as he pressed him back against the armrest of the couch, had fueled many a jerking off session. He always felt guilty afterwards, but that didn't stop him.

Just as it didn't stop him from following Tutor to the men's room once they were dismissed. The lock clicked shut, and most of Fighter's blood rushed south, even before Tutor pushed him against the sink. Other than that he didn't touch him, just looked at him consideringly from dark, hooded eyes, and Fighter drew a shuddering breath, his heart hammering in his ears. It should be an incongruous sight, the innocent-looking young man in his pink sweater reducing Fighter to this quivering mass of anticipation and desire with nothing more than a glance.

Yet when Tutor grabbed his throat lightly, the pressure of his hand made Fighter swallow hard, and he had to suppress a whimper at the huskiness in his partner's voice as he said, "You've been wanting to touch me ever since you saw me today." It wasn't a question, so Fighter didn't reply, just stayed perfectly still, his hands clenching on the cool tile of the sink behind him. Tutor smiled, sharp and amused, and leaned in to nip at Fighter's Adam's apple. His next words demanded an answer: "Remember the rules?"

"Y...yes," Fighter stammered. Tutor had been very clear, back at his condo, that, whatever happened between them, it was nothing but two sexually compatible adults letting off steam. It was exactly what Fighter had needed to hear, and he clung to it now as well, even as their lips finally met in a heated kiss. Their bodies collided, rocked into each other, and Fighter groaned into Tutor's mouth at both the friction and the proof of Tutor's own arousal. It felt amazing - but it wasn't what he wanted.

Not giving himself time to think, he switched their positions and broke the kiss, instead moving his mouth downwards. He didn't spend too much time on Tutor's neck, no visible marks being one of the rules they'd established, but he pushed up Tutor's sweater, dimly registering that it was as soft was it looked, and mouthed at his nipples. Tutor's hands tightened in Fighter's hair, and he leaned back to give him better access. The hard nubs, enticing as their were, weren't Fighter's main objective, however. Neither was the hard planes of Tutor's abs as he slowly went to his knees.

He'd never done this, had only been on the receiving end a few times himself. Luckily the most memorable time was Tutor himself, taking him apart on his living room couch. So now, while hastily unbuttoning his partner's jeans and pushing them down along with his boxer briefs, Fighter tried to remember what he'd done. A hand appeared in his field of vision, offering him a familiar square foil package. Fighter took it, telling himself he was imagining the slight tremor in those perfectly manicured fingers. His own fingers, on the other hand, were definitely shaking as they rolled the condom on the hard length that curved up against Tutor's stomach. Glancing upwards, he found Tutor staring at him intently, a strange mix of heat and awe making Fighter shiver and get impossibly harder.

"Fuck, P'Fight..." Tutor sounded wrecked, and the warmth which uncurled in Fighter's chest had little to do with the desire that had him rocking his cock against the hand not currently holding the base of Tutor's erection. It felt dangerous, somehow, so Fighter quickly refocused his attention on the feeling of Tutor in his mouth, on the sounds he made when Fighter hollowed his cheeks or swirled his tongue around the head. The bathroom tiles were hard under his knees and his jaw was beginning to ache, but that didn't change the fact that Fighter was more turned on than he could ever remember being, especially when Tutor began to praise him, panting and hoarse, "So good, oh fuck... Yes, P'Fight, just like that... just..."

Tutor tightened his grip on Fighter's head, tried to pull him up. It sent sparks of pleasure-pain through Fighter's body, all the way from his scalp to his toes. He refused to budge, instead tried to take him as deep as he could. Tutor cursed, hips bucking helplessly while he came, and triumph flared hot inside Fighter, despite the fact that he almost choked. He'd done this - he'd been the one to do this to Tutor, to turn him from perfectly composed, always-in-control detective into this disheveled, red-faced human.

Unsurprisingly, after he'd recovered enough to pull Fighter to his feet, it took Tutor less than five minutes to bring Fighter to his own climax, his spit-slick hand hot around his cock, his tongue apparently determined to lick every last trace of himself out of Fighter's mouth. It was all Fighter could do to hold on, his hands gripping the fluffy pink sweater so tightly, Tutor shook his head in exasperation once Fighter had recovered enough to stand on still slightly wobbly legs.

"You ruined my favourite sweater," he complained in familiar annoyance, but there was no heat to it, and his hands were gentle when he cleaned up Fighter's softening dick. Tutor of course had somehow managed to catch most of Fighter's come with his hand, sparing their clothes.

Not that Fighter would have cared one way or the other. His heart rate slowly returning to normal, he laughed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. "I'll buy you a new one."

He knew that the feeling wouldn't last past the unlocking of the bathroom door, but for now Tutor was smiling at him, looking almost fond, and Fighter felt as if there was no problem he couldn't face.

(Masterlist)

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Summary: You’re a journalist tasked with doing a profile on Alfie Solomons, CEO of a popular rum distillery. Warnings: swearing  A/N: OOPS. Yep, so I wrote a thing. There will definitely be more parts to this, this is only the beginning. I hope you like it, please consider leaving a comment if you enjoy! 

The warm, smooth taste of coffee touches your tongue and you have to stop yourself from letting out a moan, knowing just how inappropriate it would be while sitting in your editor’s office.

“You did well with your last profile piece,” Quinn says, her eyes stuck on the printed draft of your latest piece you’d come in to deliver to her when she told you to take a seat and stick around.

“Thank you! I enjoy the profile’s, I like spending the time getting to know a person, getting the chance to paint a picture of them for the world to see,” you explain.

Profile pieces had always come easiest to you, and you had always felt most confident when writing about a person rather than any of the other kinds of pieces you’d had to write since starting at The City Scoop.

“That’s good to hear, considering I have another one for you. Have you heard of Alfie Solomons?”

“The name sounds familiar. Who is he?”

“Owner of Solomons’ Rum. Apparently, his distillery in Camden is all the rage at the moment everyone is apparently drinking his rum. I want you to go there interview him find out what makes his rum so special.”

As Quinn speaks you realise why the name sounds familiar, Alfie Solomons had recently had a few run-ins with the law with a physical altercation between Solomons and a business rival making headlines in the last few weeks.

“Isn’t he the one who punched got into a fight with a business rival recently?”

Quinn finally looks up from the papers in her hands, a sly smile on her lips.

“He should make for an interesting interview then shouldn’t he?”

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the red brick building in front of you the sign reading Solomons Distillery the only sign you’re in the right place.

Inside the front doors, a young man with dark curly hair stands with his back to you, reading something off a tablet in his hands.

“Excuse me?” you call, hesitating in the doorway.

The man looks up, a look of curiosity on his boyish face as he spots you.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Mr Solomons? I’m y/n l/n here to interview him, I’m with The City Scoop,” you hold your hand out to the man waiting for him to shake it.

“Right, he mentioned you were coming,” he says, shaking your hand. “Ollie, Vice President of the company.”

You raise your eyebrows, not completely sure how a man as young as this one could be the vice president of anything, but if he notices Ollie doesn’t say anything just offers you a kind smile.

“Alfie’s in his office, I’ll show you,” he says.

Ollie leads you further into the warehouse, down a long corridor past several open doors until you come across a closed one. Ollie stops just outside the closed door, knocking twice.

“Come in.”

The man sitting behind the desk looks very much the type of man who would get into a fight with a rival, a serious yet handsome face with a deep set frown as he looks at something on his computer. Even beneath his button-down shirt, you can see his bulging muscles, the hint of tattoos visible on his chest where the first few buttons of his shirt have been left open.

“Alfie, this is y/n she’s from The City Scoop,” Ollie explains.

“Right, yeah, nice to meet ya,” the man says, scratching the back of his head as he crosses the spacious office to greet you holding out a ring-clad hand with a crown tattooed on the back of it for you to shake.

“And you, thank you for meeting with me,” you tell him.

“Not a problem,” he says, turning his attention back into the room. “Oi Cyril come on mate.”

A large bullmastiff makes its way out from the other side of the desk, the dog moving slowly through the office to sit by Mr Solomons’ feet.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, he’s friendly. Pretty sure if he saw me getting attacked he’d fucking lick my attacker,” he says, his tone might sound exasperated but the smile on his face as he glances down at the dog is one of pure fondness. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

With Cyril close behind, Mr Solomons takes off back down the corridor Ollie had brought you up.

“You bring your dog to work?”

“Yeah well, I’m here more often than I’d like to be, don’t want him at home by himself all the time, he’d tear me fucking house apart wouldn’t he?” he says and you smile at the large innocent dog, looking up at you with innocent eyes.

“So, Mr Solomons -”

The man cuts you off just by holding out a hand, a deep frown on his face as he looks at you.

“Alfie. No need to call me Mr Solomons, yeah, it’s just Alfie.”

“Alright. Alfie, why rum? There are more popular and profitable spirits to make, why choose rum?”

The man runs a hand through his beard as he listens, his rings glinting in the light as his eyes narrow in thought.

“Me mother used to drink rum after she died I wanted to do something for her. She gave up a lot for me, I wanted to honour her in some way so I started makin’ rum.”

“What did she give up for you?”

“When she found out she was pregnant she fled her home in Russia, started a whole new fucking life completely alone just so her kid would have a better life,” he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal an arm covered in tattoos, pointing out one on his forearm. “This one’s for her.”

“You commemorate people with tattoos?”

“If someone’s important enough to me yeah, most of the time though I get ‘em cause I like the way they look.”

Alfie leads you through the distillery, explaining the rum making process between answering your questions his answers. He’s incredibly animated in the way he talks, his eyes alight, hands waving everywhere and you can’t help but wonder how on earth you’re supposed to capture him in his entirety with words alone.

Soon enough your time together comes to an end, you’ve run through all your prepared questions and have wracked your brain for additional questions to ask just to have a little more time with him. But sadly it’s time to go, and as you bid him goodbye in the entrance to the distillery you think you notice a hint of disappointment in his face as well.

“Well thank you for talking with me Alfie, if you have anything you’d like to add please feel free to call,” you explain as you slip a business card into his hand.

“Will do. If you have any more questions you’re welcome to drop by, yeah, I’m almost always around here somewhere.”

You smile, turning your attention to Cyril giving the dog a brief pat on the head.

“Goodbye, Cyril.” You straighten up, offering a smile to the man as you reach for the handle of the door.“Goodbye Alfie.”

Alfie watches with his thick arms crossed over his chest as you leave, eyes following you through the glass doors until you’re out of sight, ignoring the smug look on Ollie’s face as the younger man comes to stand beside him.

“Fuck off,” Alfie grumbles, shaking his head as he walks back to his office.  

Stepping through the door to your flat you let out a long breath, feeling the way your entire body relaxes as you step over the threshold. The air inside is warm, a relief from the chilly air outside you slip off your coat and hang it on the rack by the door.

Your roommate Nancy is already home, already in pyjamas and on the couch. You kick off your heels, glad to be free of them as your bare feet press into the cool wood floors, picking up a pair of leggings from your pile of clean clothes on the table you hadn’t gotten around to putting away just yet.

Stepping into the stretchy fabric and slipping off your bra, you’re finally comfortable again.

“How’d it go today?” Nancy asks, turning her attention away from wherever Netflix documentary had her attention.

Dropping onto the couch beside her, you open your laptop flipping through your notes as you wait for it to start up.

“Really good actually, I met with that Alfie Solomons I was telling you about last night,”

“Weren’t you nervous to meet him? How was he?”

“He was nice. Really nice. He seemed intimidating at first, but really he just loves his dog and his mum and he was just really nice.”

“Oh girl, you fancy him don’t you?”

You scoff at her comment, turning back to your notebook just to escape her insinuation.

“Don’t be stupid, of course, I don’t.”

You only spent a couple of hours with the man, surely you can’t already fancy him. No, no of course not. You were just charmed by him, enjoyed your time with him. Nothing more than that.

“Oh shut up,” you grumble at the look on her face, busying yourself with typing up your notes from the day.  

[playedwright]

Holsom for 51?

51. “You make me feel alive.”

prompt from this list if anyone wants to send me more i’m apparently in a Zone!!

this is my second time writing holsom and it ended up being 1.5k words i ?? this got semi out of hand so ! more below the cut !!

*

Early morning practices are, in Holster’s humble opinion, usually the worst thing ever.

The only time he finds them acceptable are on the days they’re in here before the sun even rises. Even though it’s an ungodly time to be awake and exercising, it means they’re done before the sun rises, and it means he and Ransom can usually hang out and watch as the pinks and yellows break over the skyline and spill across the ice.

Holster values these mornings over most other things, now more than ever. Co-captaincy has given them these mornings, and it has given Holster a thousand more reasons to fall hard and fast for Ransom.

Not that he needed any convincing in that area. He’s always been lurking around it, if he’s being honest.

Things have been teetering between them recently. Always on the edge of friendship or something more. Holster knows they’ve always toed the line; hell, they made a joke out of it their sophomore year, after the fifth time in one week someone had asked if they were dating. Holster knows they’ve always been flirty and touchy and close. And of course, there was always that kegster from their frog year—

Well. They don’t talk about that.

But the point still stands. Things have been teetering.

Holster eases himself down on the bench after he sees Nursey and Chowder finally exit the rink. His skate hits the wall when he stretches out his leg. He only has two seconds to himself before Ransom joins him on the bench and sits down right next to him.

They’re so close their arms are brushing. They’re so close that Holster is 78% sure he can feel Ransom’s actual heartbeat, even between both of their practice jerseys.

“Good run today, man,” Ransom tells him. He rolls his head back and sighs heavily. “I swear, those frogs get younger every damn year.”

“Tadpoles,” Holster reminds him. “We’re calling them taddies this year.”

Ransom swears under his breath. “Confusing as hell. What are they gonna call these toddlers next year? Eggs? There’s only so many stages in a frog’s life before it’s just a frog. Dex and Nursey and Chowder can chill, they don’t have to be the Frogs.”

“Aw, c’mon Ransy. I think it’s cute. They’re bonding.”

Ransom chuckles. He shifts his head forward until he can rest it on Adam’s shoulder. “I knew you had a secret soft spot for those kids.”

Holster rolls his eyes. “They aren’t that much younger than you, Justin.”

“Yeah, but they act like it. Were we like that when we were frogs? My god. I can’t even begin to imagine the shit we put poor Winger through. Guy probably wanted to strangle us,” Ransom groans. “I feel like I’m the father of five. Oh god, are we fathers? Fathers of twenty-two stinky, terrible, annoying hockey boys?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Holster laughs. He nudges Ransom with his elbow. “Besides. You don’t really think it’s all that bad, do you?”

Ransom opens his eyes at sits forward. Outside the windows, the sun is just barely starting to rise. They have a few minutes before color fills the rink. It’s quiet and calm. As Ransom’s face opens up to take it all in, Holster thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Nah,” Ransom admits. He turns to Holster and winks; there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I guess this kind of stuff makes it all worth it.”

It’s moments like this where he thinks maybe there’s something more happening between them. It’s moments like this where he starts to hope maybe, maybe.

He’s trying to find the courage to just say it.

This is their last season. This is their last year. Ransom could be in med school next year—hell, he could be halfway across the country somewhere next year. He’s been doing interviews alongside Holster at a lot of the same places. Plan B, he says, like he’s truly afraid he won’t get into med school. Holster knows differently. Anyone would be lucky to have Ransom.

Holster’s starting to worry he’ll never get a chance like this again.

“There’s nothing better than this rink in the morning, you know? Doesn’t it just make you feel alive?” Ransom wonders out loud.

Holster closes his eyes. One, two, three steadying breaths. Then he says, “You make me feel alive.”

Pressed against his arm, he can feel it when Ransom stiffens. Fear curls around in Holster’s stomach, piercing and hot. He wonders, with how they’re pressed together, if Ransom can feel how hard he’s shaking.

“Adam,” Ransom whispers. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Don’t fuck with me, man.”

Tears well behind Holster’s eyes, of their own accord. He keeps them squeezed shut to keep any tears from falling. He drops his head and leans forward. “I’m not,” Holster whispers. “Dude, swear on my life. Never been more serious.”

“You know you’re my best bro, Holtzy.”

Holster covers his face with his hands. He can’t stop the tears from falling, not now.

“Fuck, dude, are you crying?!”

“It’s alright,” Holster says. He must force himself to stand up because his feet are moving before he even notices it. “Bubbe would smack me if she could see me right now. ‘Adam, you must be meshuggeneh, what do you think you’re doing?’—”

It’s a poor imitation of his grandmother, and Ransom has met her enough times that Holster half-expects Rans to call him out about it. He doesn’t expect Ransom to stand up and follow him as he tries to make a break for the ice.

He doesn’t expect Ransom to grab hold of his wrist and tug him back.

He definitely doesn’t expect Ransom to look so frustrated and hopeful when Holster finally meets his gaze.

“You gotta be a hundred percent real with me right now, bro,” Ransom says. Behind him, Faber glistens as the sunrise finally begins to peek through the windows. Holster thinks it’s fitting for the moment; he’s achingly in love with Ransom, and Ransom looks heartbreakingly beautiful right now.

“I’m always a hundred percent with you, Rans,” Holster reminds him. His voice is barely a fraction of his regular volume; quieter now than it is even in the mornings when Ransom would wake up anxious and need a gentle voice to talk him down. “You know that.”

Ransom’s eyes are searching his face. Holster wonders what he’s looking for there. “I don’t know what I know anymore,” Ransom admits. “I’m fucking confused, man.”

“Shit, Justin, do you need me to spell it out for you?!” Holster snaps. “I’ve got my heart on my goddamn sleeve. I don’t know how else to offer it to you. You want a hundred percent? I’ve been halfway in love with you ever since freshman year. Completely gone on you for as long as I can remember. You’re my best friend and I would never give that up, but—dammit, Justin, sometimes you really make me wish we were more.”

“It’s been four fucking years, Adam!”

Holster drops his head. “Yeah. It’s a long time to be in love with your best friend. Can’t tell you how much it sucks.”

Ransom lets out a startled laugh. “You trying to prove your Bubbe right, you moron? You don’t have to tell me how much it sucks. I know how much it sucks.”

“Wh—” Holster’s head snaps up. Ransom is looking at him with nothing but hope in his expression now. He’s still got ahold of Holster’s wrist. It’s not enough contact, not by a long shot. “You’re shitting me. You’re not shitting me? You—”

“Oh my god, dude, for someone who acted like he had to spell it out for me, you sure are taking your time wrapping your head around this,” Ransom says. There’s a tantalizing grin on his face. “You need me to spell it out this time, or are you gonna kiss me since we’ve both been waiting for it for years?”

Holster grabs a fistful of Ransom’s practice jersey and hauls him forward.

Ransom kisses the same way he did his freshman year; he’s gained a bit more finesse, but he is still warm and eager and perfect. Holster doesn’t remember it being this good. He can’t think of a single other kiss that’s been half as good as this one.

Maybe it’s because it’s been four years in the making. Or maybe it’s because he and Ransom have always been perfect complements of one another. They settled so firmly into friendship all those years ago that there wasn’t even a chance to consider exploring this side of it. Holster is desperate to memorize the feel of Ransom pressed against him like this, the feel of Ransom’s lips moving against his, the feel of the heat that pools and curls and writhes around in his belly. If they were standing on the ice, Holster is certain they’d melt right through it.

“Faber probably isn’t the best place for this,” Ransom finally says. He breaks away sound breathless and looking wrecked, and Holster has to fight down the surge of pride that rushes through his body. This is unlike anything he’s ever known before.

“I would argue that Faber is a great place for this.”

Ransom laughs and turns away when Holster leans in for another kiss. Holster doesn’t let up; he kisses Ransom loudly and messily on the cheek.

It’s a start, Holster decides, and it’s one hell of a way to begin.