#roll up for my 7 am with a cup of milk. put some creamer in. ready to deal with summer camp

[vulpinesaint]

boys with a sweet tooth will smile at you and hold out the most vile sugar concoction you've ever seen in your life

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (24/30)

Summary:Emma Swan loses a drunken bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush - if you can call him that - to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala for Boston’s Children Shelter. Killian Jones is that celebrity. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost all because of the ridiculousness of the situation. 

What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.What she truly doesn’t expect is to actually like the man.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are continuously awesome, and I appreciate you! 

As an FYI, I have this story completely written now, down to the last word, so if anyone was worrying about that, you don’t have to! But mostly I wanted to let you guys know that I’m going to be out of town for a week, so there won’t be any updates next week (but maybe an extra one this week)💕

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr:Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | 

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

“Happy birthday,” Killian hums against her neck, kissing the sensitive skin and rubbing his chin into her. She claims that it doesn’t tickle her, but it always does. He hopes it’ll work to wake her up since nothing else will today. “Your alarm has been going off for fifteen minutes.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles, twisting to the side and burying her face in his bare shoulder, ignoring the sound of her alarm like she has been while he’s listened to it wondering just how long she’s going to sleep through it. He swears sometimes it’s like she’s dead to the world. Other times she’s woken up by a whisper of a touch. There’s no in between for her. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“It is, darling,” he promises, nudging her stomach with his knee until she flips back onto her pillow, opening one eye while she stares up at him. He knows that he’s got a smirk on his face, that she probably finds him to be obnoxious, but he’s been awake for longer than her. He’s not nearly as annoyed by life as she is. Then again, the only work he has to do today is finish up packing Emma’s things to take to the new place this weekend. He can fall back asleep as soon as she leaves for work and not have to get dressed until they go out for her birthday tonight.

“Can you go to work for me? I would love you for the rest of my life.”

“While that’s a promising offer, I’m just not sure that it’s worth it.”

“Hey,” she protests, opening up her other eye as her lips part, her teeth showing the slightest bit before she presses them together again.

“Just speaking the truth.” He leans over in the bed and quickly slants his lips over hers, waiting for her to open up to him until he can make it a little deeper, leisurely exploring her mouth and waking her up as he gets lost in the kiss and the way that Emma’s nose is buried in his cheek, her hand softly gripping in his hair. God, he loves when she messes with his hair. “You need to get up and get ready.”

“I can stay in bed for thirty more minutes if I don’t shower.”

“Yeah, but you won’t want to shower after work and before we go to dinner, so you should shower now to get it over with.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but when he kisses the tip of her nose, he can see her smile despite the still dimmed lighting in the room. “I don’t like that you’re reasonable.” “You do. I promise. Now go get ready, Swan.”

She mumbles and groans, but eventually she gets out of bed and turns the damn alarm off before she heads into her bathroom to shower. He’s a bit of an arse, so he doesn’t bother getting out of bed even though he should likely fix her breakfast since it’s her birthday and she hasn’t been too happy about turning twenty-nine. Knowing her, though, she won’t want to eat anything but a yogurt with how late she’s running, so he’ll make her food some other day. It’s the least he can do if he’s going to be up anyways.

He’s only been staying with Emma for a week and a half, and they’re still in her old apartment until the furniture they’ve bought gets moved to their place. It’s got a new mattress and bedframe like they both wanted and a couch, but everything else is still shipping or they haven’t found what they wanted yet. It was a pretty quick turnaround on buying the apartment in Seaport, so they weren’t exactly expecting to be able move in so quickly. He was expecting to have at least a few more weeks, but after they closed on the place, he called Robin and Will to help him pack up his clothes and a few personal items from home. It’s a bit of a disconnect walking into a place he’s lived for years and seeing it furnished only to turn a corner and realize that the books on his shelves are missing along with some of the photo frames he had on the side table in his study. He was going to leave them, but he wanted some personal mementos.

His clothes were easy enough to pack, especially since he only packed his winter things for the next few months, but that odd feeling of emptiness washed over him when he noticed that only his shorts and some swim trunks remained. That emptiness went away when he was hanging his things and a few of Emma’s in their closet, one that they get to share, and those awful Christmas sweaters they both own were hanging side by side, green tassel sticking out against all of the black and navy clothes that he owns. He’d never get rid of them, though. They mean too much to the both of them, so they’ll stay hanging in the closet.

God, it’s both weird and wonderful that they’re getting to share everything in a home together.

The wonder is most definitely going to fade once they get into an argument over the dishes or making the bed every day, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

Maybe he’ll go buy those barstools Emma saw when they went shopping on Sunday. She’d really liked those, but they weren’t sure if the stools were the right size. He checked, and they are. That’d likely be a nice surprise, especially if he gave them to her today.

Barstools for his girlfriend’s birthday present. It’s what every woman wants.

Or a necklace with a pearl pendant hanging at the end of the chain because gifts are difficult and Emma never wants anything. He’d seen her look at the necklace, though, and she’d run her fingers over her collarbone for awhile after she saw it. It’s simple and beautiful, and he thinks Emma will like wearing it most days just so that she has something to fidget with. She’s always doing that with her earrings or bracelet, so a necklace should be nice, right?

A necklace and some barstools. And this hot chocolate basket that he’s been putting together, her swan mug hidden away in it. For someone who claims that it’s her favorite mug, she sure as hell doesn’t notice when it’s missing for weeks on end.

Yeah, those should be fine things to give her before tonight.

He donated some money to her work and to a few of her favorite charities, but he’s not going to tell her about them. He thought about it, but it doesn’t quite seem right. They’re in her honor and will help out a lot of people who need the help, and that’s all that matters to him.

He hears the water shut off in the bathroom, and he takes that as his cue to get finally get out of bed, throwing the covers off of his legs and slowly moving off of the old mattress so he can get some sweatpants out the suitcase he’s living out of, pulling them on and up over his hips so he won’t freeze while moving out to the kitchen. He may not make her breakfast, but he can at least make her some coffee so she won’t be cranky at work.

Coffee would also be really nice for him. Emma’s alarm went off for far too long, and he can feel the slightest pounding against his temple.

“Do you think it would be too obvious if I called in sick to work?” Emma ponders as she walks into the room a few minutes later, a towel still wrapped around her head but her lashes coated in mascara and face powdered so that her freckles have faded. “I mean, they know it’s my birthday, but people get sick on their birthdays. It’s just a day.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, the liquid still a little too hot from his lack of creamer, and shrugs his shoulders while Emma grabs a mug out of the cabinet and starts making her cup.

“You could, but if you don’t go to work, your other option is to stay here with me and pack up your belongings.”

“I mean, packing is very sexy. I could stay and we could forget about packing for you to give me all of your love and attention since it is my birthday after all.”

“For someone who has been dreading this day, which you literally just said is only a day on the calendar, you’re really milking it.”

“I am indeed,” she smiles, holding up the carton of milk she just got out of the fridge. Emma Swan, a woman who doesn’t like to let bad jokes pass by her. “I just don’t want to go to work. I’m working with Kathryn all day and blegh.”

“Did you just say the word blegh instead of making the sound?”

“Yep.”

“Weird.” “Debatable.”

“I’m sorry you have to work with Kathryn, but hopefully she won’t be that bad today. And I feel like you’re going to have a good day today, signing your new contract and all that, you badass of a woman.” He takes a step toward her and leans down to brush a kiss across her temple, knowing the toothpaste on her tongue won’t mix well with the coffee. He loves her and is proud of her for negotiating a raise that she deserves for her time there and for all the good work she’s done this year, but her really is not a fan of toothpaste mixed with coffee. “And when all is said and done today, I promise I’ll give you all of my love and attention.”

“That’s all I ask.”

When Emma leaves for work, he takes a quick shower and gets dressed to go to Gold and Williams to pick up some of the furniture they saw the other day. He’ll pack later. He’d honestly just feel better if he went ahead and got the furniture now, mixing in with the morning crowd on the train as he makes his way to the south end. He’s still got some work to go on navigating Boston, but he’s figuring things out. It’d help if he had a car here, but he doesn’t want to buy another one when he has a perfectly good car back in California. Then again, it’s either leave it there or take a road trip across the country every time he travels.

That would be ridiculous. The miles and time alone.

Maybe he’ll get Emma to take a road trip with him when she has off for Thanksgiving since they’re spending it with his family so that they can spend Christmas with Emma’s. Or maybe he’ll simply become a master of taking the train.

Or he could ship his car across the country. That’s a thing.

It takes a few minutes in the store for him to find the barstools, telling the man who’s helping him, Eric, that he wants four of them before he wanders throughout the rest of the store, looking at the chairs for the living room they’d both liked the other day. It’s odd shopping without Emma, but then again, she did most of their apartment viewing by herself so a chair seems like a much smaller thing. They can always return it if it doesn’t fit, but he likes the blue velvet and gold accented frames that surround them to go with the light gray of their couch. By the time he’s left the store he has put in orders for the barstools, arm chairs, lamps for their bedside tables, and a loveseat to sit at the foot of their bed all to be shipped to their apartment. He knows that Emma liked the loveseat because he distinctly remembers her sitting down on it and tracing her finger over the teal material and talking about how good it would look with the blue and green accents on the pillows on their bed.

He’s never thought this much about interior decorating, but Emma is having such a blast starting with a clean slate that he’s enjoying it. He likes watching everything come together too.

The rest of his morning is spent packing up Emma’s apartment, sectioning off her clothes and tying them up in bags so they’ll be easier to unpack. All of her dishes but a few they’ll need over the next few days go into boxes, wrapped in bubble wrap, and he makes note of the appliances she’s missing. He’ll ship some of his things from home here. He won’t need a fully stocked kitchen some place he’s not living full time, and there’s no need to buy more plates when he and Emma eat out off of paper plates most of the time anyways.

Maybe they need a few more plates for when they have guests. He’s thinking about flying out Liam, Elsa, and Aiden for Christmas and having them stay over so that they can meet everyone. Of course, he’ll have to fly in Anna and Kris as well. He could offer to fly in Anna and Elsa’s parents, but they’re apparently visiting after the holiday.

It’s something to think about, though.

When he tackles her shelves, that’s an animal in and off itself. She’s got everything marked for keep or donate since nothing in her apartment can stay here, and honestly, he’s a little confused by some of the markings. There are several rocks that don’t look like anything, but Emma has them marked to keep so he packs them away. He assumes Leo has given them to her, but he’s honestly got no idea.

The music on his phone stops playing as it rings, and he reaches to the side and slides his finger across the screen, tapping the speaker so he doesn’t have to pick it up.

“Hey, Will.”

“Why the bloody hell do you have me watering these plants if you don’t even live here anymore? Can’t I just let them die?”

“Nice to hear from you too,” he scoffs, wrapping up a picture frame. “And yes, you have to water them until I get them moved to Liam’s or Rob’s. Or yours. I think you’re rather fond of the plants, mate.”

“I don’t like your bloody plants.”

“It’s okay to like the plants. They’d make your apartment look less like a bachelor lives there.”

“A bachelor does live there.”

“Seriously, take the plants with you.”

“If I take the plants with me, then you won’t pay me to water them.”

“Technically I also pay you to dust, but you never do that.”

“I’m not your maid. I’m your friend.”

“Who likes the money I pay you out of the goodness of my heart for helping me with my house.”

“You’re the most generous man in all of Hollywood,” Will chuckles as the distinctive sound of the ceiling fan in Killian’s study spins. It’s got this thing where it clicks if it spins too quickly. He needs to fix that. “What are you doing today? You got plans? Rob, Rol, and I are going to watch the Kings play later. You want to join us from afar?”

“What time?”

“Six our time.”

He clicks his tongue as he wraps another frame that’s filled with a picture of Emma holding both Leo and Brody the day after Brody was born. God, that had been such an awful day for him, but Emma looks so besotted with those boys that it doesn’t even matter. It worked out for them anyways. They worked it out.

“I can’t,” he admits, feeling the smallest tinge of guilt, but this is how things are going to be sometimes. Not all of the time, but still. He’ll have to take the three of them to a match sometime soon. Maybe he’ll buy them passes for Christmas. “It’s Emma’s birthday, so we’re going out. I’ll try another time though, okay?”

“Aye, that’s fine. It’s not like it’s going to be a good one anyways. Tell your lady I said happy birthday.”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Are you not working at the bar tonight?”

“No, I’ve got today off. Oi, man, I’ve got to tell you about this guy who came in last night.”

He and Will keep talking until Killian’s finished packing up the bookshelves, everything sorted into different boxes and bags and stacked up next to the door as Will regales him with stories of the bar and Roland’s attempt at ice skating for the first time last week. Robin’s also apparently been dating one of the moms of one of Roland’s classmates. He leaves for a little bit of time and suddenly everyone is getting their lives together. He absolutely cannot wait to annoy Rob about this the next time they talk. The man would rather die than talk about his dating life, so he kind of wonders how exactly Will knew about Robin’s new woman. He never explained. Eventually Will has to go, and Killian’s left spending the rest of the day doing as much packing as he can, only stopping to eat a late lunch and drink another cup of coffee.

“How is it so cold outside?” Emma asks as she pulls off her jacket and takes her beanie off, shaking her hair out and closing the front door behind her. “Seriously, it’s freezing out there. Have you been outside today? Probably not. You’ve probably been packing this entire time. Sorry I couldn’t call at lunch. I missed it to read over my contract one more time. Your girl has officially got herself a pay raise.”

“Congrats, love,” he laughs, taping up a box and then putting his tape down so that he can walk over to the kitchen where Emma’s puttering around in the cabinets. They’re mostly empty now, but she’s probably trying to find a glass. “Do you feel less stressed?”

“Exponentially.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before reaching above her and getting a glass out of the cabinet to hand to her. “I actually went and got some furniture for us this morning, some of the stuff we looked at on Sunday, and it’s being delivered to the apartment. And then I was packing up some things we hadn’t gotten yet. I was about to go work in your hallway closet.”

“I can do that,” she blurts, her cheeks flushing, and he quirks his brow as the gears start turning in his mind over why she wouldn’t want him messing with the closet.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I am not.”

“You’re a horrible liar, remember?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“So what do you have hidden in the closet? I’ve been in there before, so I know that it’s not dead bodies or anything.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying. I’m also going to go look.”

He sidesteps out of Emma’s way, the curiosity too much, but he also knows that if Emma really doesn’t want him to look, she’ll tell him to stop. And he will. Whatever she’s hiding isn’t bad or untrustworthy. He simply doesn’t know what it is.

“Killian,” she chuckles, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and tugging him back so that he turns around and backs himself up against the wall to look down at Emma. Her eyes have widened, and her lips are somewhere between a smile and a quiver. He simply can’t tell. “Please don’t look in the closet.”

“I won’t if you really don’t want me to. I just wonder how you didn’t think of me looking in there while you were gone today.”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot about your deep, dark secret?”

“It’s not a deep, dark secret. It’s a surprise for you.”

“For little old me on your birthday?”

“Oh my gosh,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes and leaning forward to pat his chest. “You’re so cocky, but yes, for you. It was – I was – do you just want it now?”

He does, but he can be patient.

“You can save it. Today is about you anyways.”

Emma groans, actually groans, and it’s a bit of a mixture between frustration and pleasure. He’s got no clue what’s going on right now. Absolutely none.

“It’s not a big deal,” she starts, stepping to the side and sliding open the closet door, the old folds of it crunching the slightest bit. “Like, it’s really not a big deal. I was going to put them up at the new apartment and let you, you know, just notice when you noticed.” She bends down and picks up a small box, and when she hands it to him, he can see Liam’s address on the return label. What the hell? “Just open it or whatever.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, looking up at her and noticing the way she’s fidgeting, her feet never staying in place. “Swan, unless there’s something super freaky in here that my brother has sent you, and I’m not sure where the limitations lie, I promise that there’s no need to be nervous.”

It takes a bit of work to open the package. Liam really doubles down on masking tape and he’s working with just his nails, but eventually he gets into it, the cardboard folds moving open and revealing a few envelopes that are full of pictures…of him. They’re of him. There’s one of him as a child with his mum, a blue popsicle melted all over him. There’s another of he and Liam at his graduation, another of them when they’d just moved into the apartment in California, and several others that he’s seen before but not in a long time. These are from the books that Liam keeps, that he’s made sure to save even when they were in the system and could barely have belongings. These are his childhood, the fond memories of his childhood, and despite how much he’s always loved them, for a long time it was difficult for him to look at some of them, especially the ones with his mother.

“Did you,” he starts, putting the pictures back in the box, “did you ask Liam for family photos so you could put them up in the apartment to surprise me?”

“Yeah. I thought – I thought it would be a nice thing for you to have some of your home here. And, like, I figured it was a better thing than a picture of Queen Elizabeth or, like, a palm tree that would just die in this climate. I know it’s not a big thing but I – ”

“Emma,” he laughs, dropping the box to the ground and stepping forward to wrap his arm around her waist, holding onto her tightly as he pushes her up to the wall and quickly slants his lips over hers, feeling the softness of her mouth as she gasps into his own. He knows that he’s surprised her, that she didn’t expect such a fierce moment over what she very obviously thinks is a big deal but won’t admit, but the truth of the matter is that it is a big deal. They’re flush against each other and into the wall, and when his tongue moves against hers, she cants her hips up to his as he matches her rocks, the two of them moving together.

He knows that they’re both sentimental, that they both hold onto things from their childhood, that they hold onto the happy moments, but he also knows that they’re often only sentimental about it late at night when maybe exhaustion has gotten to them. Sometimes it’s when they’re walking on the beach by his house, Emma wrapped up in a sweater that reaches her thighs as she tells him about the first time she made a friend who she got to stay around for more than a few months before she was moved to another house in the state. It’s a sometimes thing, not an always, but it means the absolute world to him that Emma would do this.

She hasn’t moved the mountains, but he would never ask or expect her to.

He’d go to the end of the world for her, and he knows that she’d do the same.

Emma’s hands move over his shoulders, and it’s what snaps him into attention before he moves his lips from hers and trails them along her jaw, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in as his heart pounds against his ribcage.

“So you like them?”

He nods into her neck before he pulls back, looking into the gleam of her eyes before he leans forward and kisses her noise, his breath still catching up to him as he rests his forehead against hers. “I love them. Why were you so nervous?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is a bit high, the smallest bit broken, and he groans a bit knowing that it’s all because of him, that their hips are still pushed together with Emma pinned to the wall. “I wanted to do something big for you to make Boston your home a bit more easily, but I couldn’t think of anything. And I don’t know. I figured you wouldn’t pack up all of the pictures you have at home so that you would still have them when you’re there. It was the least I could do, and I wasn’t going to make a big deal about them, but then you were going into the closet and yeah.”

“I did pack some of them,” he chuckles, leaning back and flashing her a grin so that she’ll stop biting her lip. He’s just now noticing that his hand has traveled up her shirt, and he wonders when he started tracing her spine. “Not all of them but a few, but I don’t – I hadn’t gone into those pictures for years. It’s so hard to see Mum’s face sometimes, but this is good. I appreciate it. Really. I don’t need you to do big gestures. I don’t – Emma I’m happy to be here. I can’t say it enough. I’m happy to be here and to be with you.”

“Yeah,” she nods, moving her hands back up his arms to his shoulders before her hands cup his face, soft pads caressing him as he leans his cheek into her so that he can kiss her wrist, “I’m happy too. We should probably stop making out in my hallway and get ready for dinner.” She pats his face as her lips curl into a smile that makes her eyes crinkle. “You need time to fix up that face.”

“My face looks fine.”

“Obviously you already packed up all of the mirrors in this place.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to get ready even though he needs to take a shower, and after he gives Emma her gifts, clasping the ends of her necklace together over the back of her neck, they make their way outside so they can drive to dinner. Emma has work in the morning, so neither of them are really planning on drinking too much or staying out late.

“So this place is really called the Barking Crab?” he asks as they walk from the parking deck to the restaurant, moving through the surprisingly crowded streets even with the chill in the air. Emma had put on a short black dress earlier, had checked the weather, and then quickly changed into black jeans and a sweater so that she wouldn’t freeze. As much as he appreciated the dress, he appreciates Emma not dying of hypothermia more.

“Yep. It’s good and fun, right on the water obviously. You’ll like it because as much as I know that you like the occasional stuffy restaurant, how can you pass up eating greasy food out of baskets?”

“You can’t,” he scoffs, reaching down to wrap his hand over her palm while they walk. “And it’s seafood, so how can it get better?”

“If it were a cheeseburger.”

“I’m sure they have those here, but considering you picked the place, Swan, I don’t think you can complain.”

“We already talked about this. It’s my birthday. I can do whatever I want.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“It definitely is.”

“So if you committed murder, you think you could get away with it by saying it happened on your birthday?”

“You took that from zero to one hundred real quick.”

“I was making a point.”

“One I’m choosing to ignore.” Her steps hurry then, heels clicking against the pavement, and he has to quicken his step to keep up. “I see Mary Margaret at a table.”

“She got one outside? It’s freezing.”

“They have heaters.”

“Still.”

“You’ll be fine,” Emma laughs, squeezing his hand tightly before releasing him and running up to meet her friends, wrapping Mary Margaret in a tight embrace, the two of them rocking from side to side.

She’s already moved onto David by the time that he gets there, so he bends down and presses a kiss against Mary Margaret’s cheek, asking her how she is and about the kids before he’s hugging David and doing the same to him. He’s just about to settle down when Ruby and Dorothy show up, so it’s another mess of hugs and too much conversation all happening at once. He’s only met Dorothy in a professional capacity, but he feels as if he knows her a bit from Emma and Ruby talking about her. She’s great, if not a bit shy, but that’s honestly not an option with Emma and her friends.

Okay, so it’s not an option with Ruby, but he doubts Dorothy would be here if she didn’t fancy Ruby.

Eventually the all sit down around the table Mary Margaret got for them, Emma sliding into the chair next to him and opening up the menu to read through all of the cocktails out loud.

“You’d like the Dark and Stormy, babe,” she tells him, pointing to the rum on the menu, “or maybe the Tea Party since, you know, you’re a Brit in Boston.”

“So damn funny,” he scoffs, tapping his fingers against her thigh from where his hand has been resting.

“I’ve never even thought about that before,” David laughs, closing his menu. “You may also like the Bloody Mary.”

“You’re all regular comedians.”

“Aw, he’s kind of crabby,” Ruby sighs, her lips curling up into a smile. “So obviously the Crabby Margarita will also work for you.”

“I believe a margarita would be better for Mary Margaret.”

“Oh I’m not drinking tonight, but I appreciate the pun,” she sighs sweetly, obviously not going to get in on teasing him about his heritage. “Besides, tonight is about Emma and being one year away from thirty, flirty, and thriving. We should totally be making fun of her.”

“What kind of alcohol puns can you make about Emma, though?” Dorothy asks.

“Not really any,” Ruby admits, shrugging her shoulders before taking a sip of her water. “Though, usually when we’re making fun of Emma, we talk about the great tequila incident of 2012.”

“No.”

“Wait,” he laughs, twisting his head to look at Emma and the absolute look of horror that is covering every inch of her skin, “what is this now? I’ve never heard of it, and I really feel like I should know about something that’s called the great tequila incident of 2012.”

“Babe, you really don’t want to know.”

“I really do,” he promises, excitement running through him as he looks between David, Mary Margaret, and Ruby to see which of them is going to break and tell this story.

“So Emma and I were living in this awful apartment,” Mary Margaret begins, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear only for it to fall back from not being long enough, “and we have absolutely no money. I’m a teacher fresh out of getting my Masters and Emma’s just gotten hired as an assistant PR director after that shitty receptionist job she’d had, so we, literally, never go out to do anything because we don’t have money. Ever.”

“Until your homegirl got hired at the same place as Emma,” Ruby adds, excitedly moving her shoulders up and down while Emma’s leg taps underneath his hand.

“Yeah, so we went out to celebrate Ruby getting a new job because she’d spent so damn long in school, and your girlfriend who is about ready to bolt right now, has a few too many drinks. She’s always been a bit of a lightweight.”

“That’s rich coming from you, honey.”

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes at her husband before looking back at him. “That’s not the point. You’re just mad because you weren’t there that night. Anyways, we’re at a bar and Emma has had too much tequila, so when Ruby suggests that it’s time to go home, Emma just refuses. I mean, absolutely refuses because that awful song Call Me Maybe is on, and she insisted that she had to go around quoting it to every man in the bar before she gave them her number.”

“Please tell me you didn’t, Swan.”

“I did,” she groans, leaning into his shoulder and burying her face in his jacket. “I had to change my number because I kept getting calls asking to talk to the hot blonde that gave away her number and then proceeded to ask every single person if they’d be willing to go on a Segway tour with them by saying ‘we could see Boston, and then I could show you my place.’”

The laughter starts in his stomach, but it makes its way up his entire body, his core and his shoulders shaking as it bubbles up and out of his mouth, nothing containing it as Emma keeps her face buried in his shoulder despite the fact that he must be moving her. It’s not the most embarrassing thing in the world. Not really, but he’s imagining Emma singing the song and propositioning all of those people while Ruby and Mary Margaret were likely curled up in balls laughing at her.

“Why a Segway tour, Swan?” he laughs, squeezing her thigh. “What about that would lead you to taking these guys back to your place?”

“I don’t know. I was drunk. I obviously wasn’t thinking.”

“So now Emma isn’t supposed to drink tequila, and if she does, she either has to sing the entirety of Call Me Maybe or pay for all of us to go on a Segway tour of Boston.”

“Emma, love,” he soothes, moving his hand from her thigh and wrapping it around her shoulder so that he can rub it up and down her arm as she obviously replays the night in her mind, “I’m going to need you to stop drinking too much in front of Ruby and Mary Margaret because it seems to get you into all kinds of predicaments.”

“But that’s how she met you,” Ruby points out, and he smiles at the thought. “I’m still waiting for my boat, by the way. I want it to be called The Love Boat. I’ve said it before, but I obviously need to say it again. I think red will be a good color for it, not tacky at all.”

“You’re not getting a boat,” Emma groans, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “Also, are we ever going to order? Because it’s my birthday, and I want to eat.”

They do eventually order, and soon the table is full of ridiculous cocktails and water glasses as well as crab, lobster rolls, shrimp, and more seafood than six people will need. But they manage to eat most of it between laughing and sharing more embarrassing stories about Emma. He’s got several up his sleeve, but he’d rather listen to the tales of when all of them were in university together (apparently David came along a bit later, but he knows the stories well enough) and just starting out. Emma is so comfortable with her friends, comfortable with letting them tease her and share things from a time when she likely wasn’t sure of trusting people too much, and he’s not sure if he’s ever been more thankful for three of the people sitting across from him.

They were the ones who Emma opened her heart up to and who didn’t let her down for the first time in her life, and he’s exponentially glad that she has them.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” Emma mutters after she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the table.

“I’ll join you,” Mary Margaret adds only for Ruby and Dorothy to say the same thing. “And you two cannot make a joke about women traveling in packs to the bathroom when the two of you do stuff like that all of the time.”

“Wasn’t going to, honey,” David sighs, smiling up at his wife. Mary Margaret simply smiles back before she’s walking away, trailing after everyone else as they disappear into the restaurant and out of sight. “So do you feel like you’ve officially been initiated into a Boston man? You’re eating seafood by the harbor when it’s freezing outside. All you need is to be wearing a Sox cap.”

“Well, I did leave my hat and my jersey at home. I knew I was forgetting something when we left the apartment. But yeah,” he shrugs, fingering at the condensation on his glass, “it feels good to be here. It’s definitely not California, but I’m happy. I can’t wait to get into the new place, though. I’m tripping over boxes every two seconds.”

“You never know how much stuff you have until you move, and Emma’s a packrat so that’s got to be awful.”

“It’s not that bad,” he admits, twisting his head and looking out at the water past all of the people who are crowding the streets. “We’ve gone through everything and either donated it, trashed it, or packed it. I don’t think either of us really expected to be able to move so quickly.”

“But when has anything in your relationship ever gone as normal?”

He clicks his tongue, not really sure how to answer that. “Eh, depends on what you’re saying is normal. I think we do what works for us. We haven’t been together for years or anything, but we’ve been together for awhile. And besides two or three days, once we were in, we were all in.”

David’s eyes slant for a moment, the blue turning into slits, and his lips flatten out into a straight line while he looks at Killian. He briefly sees David tilt his head to the side, something almost unnoticeable, but then he’s widening his eyes again as his features relax. He was just being studied, and he’s honestly not sure why.

“You’re going to propose.”

If he were holding his drink instead of thumbing at the water on it while it rests on the table, he’d drop it. He’d drop it and then likely freeze for the chill that’s blowing over the restaurant, the temperatures continuing to fall the longer they stay out here. He can feel the heat as it moves across his face, red flames tickling his skin, and he knows that it’s not from the nip of the air or the warmth of the heater that’s just behind their table.

“Possibly,” he concedes, his eyes glancing over to where Emma had disappeared into the restaurant. As much as he’d like to talk about his thoughts and his plans and the rings that he’s been looking at when he can, he knows that they don’t have a lot of time. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You’re not as suave and mysterious as you think.” He raises a brow, and waits for David to continue. “You love her. You love her in the way that I love Mary Margaret, and while you two are different, it’s still the same.”

“Aye,” he smiles, eyes only straying from David to look to make sure no one is returning to the table, “I do. I love her, and I want to marry her. I know that now isn’t the time, that things are crazy with the move, but I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Killian, that’s incredible,” he laughs, his own face covered in lines while he reaches down to break off a piece of bread. “Emma is like a younger sister to me, and I love her. I just want her to be happy. And you’ve grown on me too, so I guess I want that for you.”

He winks, knowing that he’s got a smirk curling up on his lips. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

Emma comes back to the table first, her hair now pulled up in a ponytail, and sits back down in her chair, her hand landing on his knee and squeezing while Mary Margaret follows closely behind her.

“Where are Ruby and Dorothy?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Emma mumbles.

“They’re asking the chef if she’d be willing to make Emma a small birthday cake,” Mary Margaret explains as she rolls her eyes a bit at Emma. “Emma’s embarrassed because she doesn’t want the entire restaurant looking at her as they sing.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I would have been fine if Killian and I had just stopped for milkshakes on the way home.”

“Nonsense, Swan, you’ve got to have your birthday cake.”

Ruby and Dorothy come back to the table with the promise that Emma is going to have a birthday cake brought out to her in a few minutes. Sure enough their waitress comes to the table with a serving dish full of cake, Emma’s name written in sauce on the white of the plate, and everyone sings to her while he watches her attempt not to blush. It doesn’t work, but she tries.

And later that night after Emma has fallen asleep claiming too much cake and seafood, he scrolls through his phone at the pictures from tonight. There’s several of he and Emma, even more of shots he had to take for she and her friends, but as he does, he never uploads a photo of her face online, not since the night they met at the charity gala. Who he’s dating isn’t a secret, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to control what he puts out there on the rare occasions that he does post things online so that Robin doesn’t get onto him about not being social media savvy enough.

So it’s that thought that has him posting a photo of Emma as everyone sings to her. Her hands are covering her face, the loose strands of her ponytail doing the rest of the work, but he can still see the slightest bit of her smile under the glow of the candle light and the bulb lights the restaurant had up.

KillianJonesOfficial: Happy birthday, my love.

He wants to say more, but he thinks he’d rather keep those thoughts to he and Emma. She’s the only one who really needs to hear them.

[that-fandom-sucks-tho]

Ben Cardy: The Cardboard Man; The Cardboard Myth; The Cardboard Legend; The Cardboard Wing Man?

A/N: Okay so like again I haven’t wrote in a while and I really should be writing the Young Justice wip but like I saw that video and I’d already had this idea for weeks and it felt like it  was a sign that it needed to be posted cause it fit so perfectly. 

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader and Joe Mazzello x sister!Reader

Masterlist

You walked into the kitchen still clearing the sleep from your weary eyes trying to wake up for the eight hour shift that you had ahead of you. What you expected to be staring back at you in your kitchen was a bowl of fruit, maybe a left over bowl, not a pair of green eyes attached to a very handsome face.

“Ahhhhhh!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

A thud and then sudden footsteps alerted you to the fact that your goofus brother had heard your terror and was rushing in to save you.

He slid around the corner with what appeared to be an Adidas tennis shoe clutched in his hands ready to be swung at your assailant.

“Huh, whats it. What’s wrong?” Joe groggily mumbled as he too tried to wipe sleep out of his eyes.

You scoffed, “Well, I’m glad to know that if I was in any actual danger I could count on you to... shoe the attackers?”

Joe looked at the ‘weapon’ in his hand and sheepishly lowered it. “Hey, at least I came. You still didn’t answer me; what’s wrong?”

“What the heck is that?” You pointed at the cardboard man currently sitting at your kitchen counter. Joe looked in the direction and started to laugh.

“Y/N, that’s Ben Cardy.” He stated like it was obvious.

“Yeah, gonna need way more context. Who even is that?”

“Fine. That’s a cardboard cut out of Ben Hardy; who you’ve seen before. I’ve face-timed you tons of times with him. Though he did usually have his Roger gear on. We got it for when he couldn’t do the press tour with us.” You blushed at the mention of Ben Hardy. You had seen him before; you hadn’t realized what he looked like when not having the 70′s getup.

“I’m not used to him looking so....” You trailed off finally taking in a good look at the suited up smoldering man seated at your kitchen counter.

A snap brought you out of your trance. You looked up at Joe who had a smug look on his face.

“So? Y/N do find this cardboard attractive? Should I be worried? Carboardphillia?” He joked and barely dodged the punch to the chest you had aimed in his direction.

“You know what I mean. And why did you feel the need to bring him into our house and most importantly seat him at the counter? The tour is over you can throw this out now.”

Joe gasped in mock horror clutching his chest. He walked over and put his hand over ‘Ben Cardy’s’ ears. “Don’t listen to her I’d never do that to you,” He whispered to the cutout before looking back up at you, “And besides I’ve got so many bit ideas for him I can’t just waste this opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes and walked away to get dressed deciding a stale muffin at work was better than whatever nonsense was happening here.

The next morning, having forgotten about the prior events, caused another shock at the sight in your kitchen. Your heart racing but this time no actual screaming. Sighing you grabbed your favorite cereal and sat down across from ‘Ben Cardy’.

You slurping disturbed the silence as you stared at the printed image on cardboard. It was clearly from some sort of red-carpet something. It was also a high quality image. You could see the seams in his suit, the strands of his silky blonde hair, even the flecks inside his very green eyes.

“No matter how much you eye fuck him his clothes are printed on they’re not going to come off.” Joe smirked as he walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

You jerked your eyes away jostling your spoon causing milk to spill on the counter. You glared at your brother.

“I am not ‘eye fucking’ him. Just examining him.” You explained though the strain in your voice was not convincing Joe.

“Sure, and if your examination causes drooling it’s all in the name of science?” He questioned leaning backing stirring the creamer in his coffee.

Your mistake was actually checking to see if you had been drooling.

“Ha! I knew it! You do like him. You know we are friends I can introduce you to him. I think you two would actually really get along.”

“No please don’t do that. That’s so embarrassing. Like ‘Hey date my pathetic sister who needs her older brother to set her up.’” 

“That is not at all how it would go; besides Ben alr-” Her started.

“Plus he’s like your best friend so that would be weird and I’m what, nine years younger than him? He would for sure see me as your baby sister. No way would he like me, so please just don’t.” You pleaded as you walked out to get ready.

Joe smirked noting that your arguments included everything but you not actually  liking Ben. Oh, this was going to be fun. He was already on his phone making a call. 

“Hey mate....”

The next day you drug yourself out of bed to start your morning routine. This time though you had been expecting a pair of eyes to greet you back. You were trying not to look at him in case Joe walked in but out of the corner of your eye you saw a new pop of color.

It was a pink post-it note in the shape of a speech bubble stuck to ‘Ben Cardy’s’ face. Your eyebrows furrowed as you made your way over trying to read the writing.

Ben told me he thinks you’re really pretty.

You laughed and blushed at the note. Clearly Joe was trying to mess with you but it flattered you anyways. Looking around to see if Joe was watching you grabbed the post-it and shoved into your pocket. The small smile still present.

Joe walked in after you left with a triumphant grin on his face. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and answered the very urgent text from a very curious Brit.

For the next week every morning ‘Ben Cardy’ had a new message attached to him. Supposedly from the real Ben but you knew better. Joe was just trying to make you laugh and nothing more. But still...

Day 2

Your laugh makes his heart soar

Day 3

He hung out in Joe’s trailer just hoping you’d face-time

Day 4

He thinks you’re so smart and admires how hard you work in college

Day 5

Says you’re way funnier than Joe but don’t tell him that

Day 6

He can’t stop thinking about you or how you’d feel pressed against him

Day 7

He give anything for a chance with you

By the end of the week you had no idea how you felt. On one hand you had kept all of the notes in hopes that they were true but on the other there was no way that he wrote those or even said them. What did Joe write down these notes at the behest of Ben? There is no way Joe would write the sixth one without throwing up. I mean you were his baby sister. (He had gagged a few times but apparently the whole thing needed to be written or it ‘wouldn’t work’. Plus he promised himself he’d get payback.)

You and Joe had not talked about it. He didn’t bring it up and you were too scared to ask; what if Joe was just messing with you. Ignorance was bliss in this moment.

You were sitting pondering the thoughts swirling in your head when Joe stormed in a giant grin on his face.

“Guess who’s coming to visit for a bit involving the ever beautiful and talkative,” Joe winks at you before continuing, ““Ben Cardy.’“

“Who?” You mumbled still trying to decipher the ‘talkative’ part of his intro.

“Ben Hardy.”

You choked on your popcorn.

“He’s what?!” You exclaimed trying to wipe the remnant of half chewed soggy popcorn off your chin.

“Yeah, he was in town and wanted to meet up and I wanted a sequel to the “Night of Regrets’ video with Cardy but ampped up. So he’ll be here in like an hour.”

“An hour,” You squeaked.

“Yeah and since it’s the weekend and you’re not at work I thought you two could finally officially meet. Plus you could help us shoot.” His eyes twinkled with a mischief that did not sit well with you.

You jumped up leaving your snack for a much more important task.

“Where are you going?”

“To definitely not put on make up and a cute outfit,” You yelled.

The hour crawled by and you were sitting in the living room trying to act casual. You were doing well, except for the near vibration of your legs due to nerves.

“Hey Kid Flash, calm down or you might get stuck in the speed force.” Joe laughed as he sat down next to you. His hand clamped down on your leg making you follow his order.

“First of all, too soon for that reference-”

“It’s been six years!”

You glared. “Second of all I’m not nervous I’m just trying out this new fad exercise.”

He nodded his head in an uh-huh-totally-believe-you way.

A knock on the door stopped you from responding and you swear you stopped breathing. You may have froze as well.

Joe looked and shook his head. “Try to be a normal human, maybe.”

He walked over and opened the door and there he was: Ben Hardy, in the flesh. Which you can say was new for you. His eyes were the same color as the cutout and his hair looked just as silky. Though he now had on a bright smile that made your heart flutter into your throat. While he wasn’t in a suit the soft grey t-shit and blue jeans was just as attractive.

“Hey buddy how have you been? Is America treating you well?” The boys did a bro hug that kinda morphed into a full blown hug.

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time but I expect this will be the best part of my trip.” Ben laughed before looking over Joe’s shoulder and directly into your eyes.

“Ah, yes Ben this is my little sister Y/N. Y/N this is Ben.”

“Oh, I know who she is.” He took a strong three strides in your direction. You quickly scrambled up to meet him half-way and shake his hand.

You gave a nervous laugh before answering.” Yeah, I guess six plus months of quasi-face-timing counts as meeting.”

He grabbed your hand, eyes never parting from yours and you felt goosebumps crawl up your arm and down your spine causing you to shiver. He held you hand long after the appropriate ‘handshake’ time allotted.

Joe cleared his throat.

“Alright lets get this going and then maybe go out for some food or something?” Joe offered before motioning towards the bedrooms. Grabbing ‘Ben Cardy’ as he walked past.

“Oh Y/N we’re going to use your room if that’s cool. You have white bed sheets and that adds a bit of continuity to this.” Joe dismissively said as he took joy in your panicked expression.

“Um...” You started but it was already too late he had barged into your room.

You gasped as you remembered the pile of post-its you had on your dresser. Yeah, that was a problem.

You rushed in pushing past both men and quickly stuffed the post-its into a drawer. Slamming it shut you turned around noticing the quizzical looks from the blonde and your brother.

“Um, it was- was my bra--” You stammered out before a heated patchy blush crawled up your neck and slapped itself onto your face. Joe’s eyebrows had breached his hairline and Ben let out a tinkle of a laugh and you suddenly felt like the floor needed to open up and swallow you.

“Okay, well anything else or can we start this?” Joe said but didn’t wait for the answer as he ventured further into your room and climbed on your bed.

He flipped back the covers and slid in the cardboard man positioning it so his head was on the pillow. He then shimmied himself under the covers and then waved Ben over. His attention was brought back to the cardboard as the shifting covers moved it out of place.

Ben walked past but not before whispering “Not how I’d expected getting into your bed.”

You choked on a gasp watching as the man who gave it to you smirked and climbed under your covers. His arms were crossed behind his head his biceps flexing (for no obvious reason besides being tantalizing). His shirt sleeve slipped down his arm showing his tattoo. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair trying to make it look messier. You made an almost cartoonish gulp at the sight.

The boys ran through the first run with Joe ‘waking up’ before noticing ‘Ben Cardy’. He ad libbed for a bit before turning over to Ben. They ran through a few lines and then the part you helped came in. You were supposed to hold the camera when they flourished the covers over their heads. It was successful but Ben insisted on another take saying he wanted to try again on his part. You were trying to hold in your cackles, so you had no idea what Ben was talking about.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Joe mutters in annoyance.

“Hey buddy.” Ben softly answered.

“Hi. Uhh,you good?” 

“Yeah, great.” 

“Good. Have you met, um--”

“Yeah, we uh, we met, I was trying really hard to tell this girl I liked her and he delivered some messages for me. So we’re pretty tight.” He was looking at you now and your eyes had widened in shock.

“You wrote those notes for me? Joe wasn’t fucking with me?” You asked in shock.

“Gosh no. Half of them made me want to carve my eyes out.” Joe responded in a mock annoyed tone.

Ben had climbed out of your bed and slowly made his way over to you. 

“No, I meant every one of those.”

“All of them?”

“Especially the sixth one.” 

Joe groaned and threw a pillow at Ben. “Still my baby sister.”

“Oi! Professing my feelings here. If you wouldn’t mind,” Ben yelled before turning back, “If you’d give me a chance I’d love to take you out while I’m still here.”

His nervous expectant eyes stared into yours and a smile broke out onto your face.

“Of course.”

He grinned a breath taking grin and leaned down pulling your face in for a sweet passionate kiss. You looped your hand around your neck twisting your fingers in his hair as he dipped you lower to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly water splashed over you and Ben making you shoot apart sputtering.

Joe stood there with a now empty pail and a triumphant grin.

“That’s payback for making me write six, saying I’m not funny and ‘snogging’,” Joe put up quotes and said the last word in his imitation Ben voice,” my sweet innocent baby sister in front of me. Oh and I heard that earlier comment about the bed.”

“JOE!” You yelled.

“What? I’m protecting your honor; now, you two crazy kids dry off and go have dinner. Be back by ten or the only Ben the world will hear from is the cardboard kind.” His thinly veiled threat sat in the air as he walked out.

“Well we better hurry its already eight.” Ben said looking down at his watch. 

Strands of his hair were plastered to his forehead and hanging over his eyes. You nodded and stepped closer to leaned against him as you pushed the off his face. 

“Yeah, we better hurry.” You whispered as you looked up at him and looped your hands behind his head once again. 

He lowered his head and his lips ghosted against your own. One hand cupped your cheek and the other your waste as he pulled you impossibly closer. Finally you closed the distance and moved your lips together. It was slow and sensual and you melted into it. Your finger pulled at his hair causing a groan to be elicited from the back of his throat. 

“We have more water in this house!”

[mrgrant9559-blog]

Witch Way Is Right? Part 7

AN: I’m doing this part mainly because of how dark part 6 was. This part should be adorable and light. To be honest here, I have no idea how or when this is gonna end. It could have a billion parts like @littlemisssyreid ‘s The Tower (no offense to you if you read this, The Tower is iconic). Anyways, here’s part 7!

Summary: (Y/N) is a male witch and also comes from a family of witches. When (Y/N) is backed up in a corner by his brother, who chose the dark path, he is forced to choose his own fate, choosing the light path. This causes an Ecliptic War between Light and Dark Witches. During this war, an eclipse (both solar and lunar) is happening, and won’t end until one brother is left standing. With the help of the Avengers and other helpful heroes, will (Y/N) be able to defeat his brother, or will the world be forever secluded in darkness?

Subject: Avengers x Male!Reader

Characters: Avengers, Reader, Reader’s mystery trainer

Tags: @thegreatficmaster @avengersohyeah @lzzywinchester @uselessace @writeyouin

Word Count: 1.8k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

_________________________

Later That Day:

Reader’s POV:

I surprisingly wake up from a peaceful sleep, despite having to go through that hellish nightmare that Wanda had to wake me from. Once I went back to sleep, I had a really good dream, or at least I think I did. It’s slipping my mind already. As I’m trying to rack my brain about what I dreamt, I get a whiff of a pleasurable aroma. It must be coffee and its calling my name.

As I’m putting my full pj suit on, I try to remember the last time I had coffee and thats when it dawns on me. I have never had coffee before. I mean, I never really had a reason to mainly because it would’ve made me hyper as a young person and I honestly thought it tasted gross, but now that I’m 18, I’m sure it’ll taste good, right?

I walk out of my room and follow the hypnotizing smell of coffee beans coming from down stairs. I start to gallop down the stairs when I hear someone humming? The humming sounds soothing and tranquil, almost like an oceanic breeze with the sounds of crashing waves in the distance. As I approach the smell, which is coming from the kitchen, I get a look at whose making the humming noise. I realize who it is and quickly retreat back to the wall next to the kitchen entrance so that the person doesn’t see me. That person being none other than Steve Rogers himself! Him and Natasha must’ve came back from their mission last night while I was sleep. While I was having that god-awful nightmare.

“Hey, you must ee the new recruit!” a voice suddenly says, causing me to almost jump out of my skin as I look at who was clearly talking to me. It was Steve. Alright, (Y/N) you can do this. Just say hi and walk into the kitchen. Simple, right?

As I start to open my mouth, nothing comes out. My mouth is just flapping about while he lets out a cute, soft chuckle. DAMMIT! WHY DO I HAVE TO BE SO WEIRD?! “I’m Steve Rogers, but judging by your phone case, you probably know me as Captain America.” He says pointing down at my phone in my hand.

I quickly shove my phone in my pocket. The one person I mostly don’t want to know about my phone case finds out about it. SHIT! I really need to change my phone case. He offers his hand to shake and I grab it firmly and shake it. At least that went well. Suddenly Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. “Thats a really firm grip you got there” he says. Son of a biscuit eating, bulldog. How am I supposed to keep my cool with this guy for 4 more days if all I do around him is awkward shit. Can you really blame me though? I mean just look that those beautiful blue eyes and that shiney blonde hair. And don’t even get me started on those fucking arms of his.

“You want some of this?” he asks pointing down at something.

“Hell yeah!” I say rather loudly. “Wait, I’m sorry, what were you talking about?” I stammered.

“Well, what were you talking about?” he asks with a surprising face.

Dammit, busted. “Uhh… I was.. um,” I started stammering again. “talking about the coffee, of course.” I scoff. Nice save.

“Oh good. Yeah, anyways the coffee maker is over there on your right.” He says pointing towards the coffee maker. “You know where the mugs are, right?” he asks.

“Uhh… No actually I don’t. I just got here yesterday and wasn’t really given the grand tour.”

“Oh, well if you want I’d be more than happy to give you a tour when we’re down with the coffee if you want.” he says.

“That sounds great!” I say enthusiastically. I take a sip of my coffee and grimace in disgust. Man, coffee tastes AWFUL. Steve must’ve noticed because the next thing I know, he starts pouring this milk-like substance in my mug. “What was that?” I asked. Honestly, if he wasn’t Captain America, I’d be pretty pissed off.

“Hazelnut coffee creamer. It should make your coffee taste a whole lot better. Dr. Banner told me about it before he disappeared.” He explains. I start eyeing my mug carefully. Even though the only thing thats changed about it is the lighter shade, I can tell it looks good. “Trust me, its good!” He says convincingly.

Alright, here goes nothing. I take a light sip and sure enough, it tastes amazing. Way better than before. My face lights up and he lets out a subtle chuckle. “You’re right! This tastes great.” I say laughing.

“See, I told you!” He says laughing as well.

In the midst of us both laughing, Tony and Black Widow walk into the kitchen as well. I look over towards the beautiful red head and flash her a smile and a wave.

She smirks at me and returns a wave. “Your (Y/N), right?” She asks while Tony pours her a cup of coffee.

“Yeah and you must be the Black Widow.” I assumed.

“Uh-uh.” She says with the same smirk as she shakes her head. “If you’re gonna be apart of the team, then you call me by my real name. Natasha Romanoff.”

“My apologies, Ms. Romanoff.” I apologize.

“It’s ok, just don’t do it again.” She jokes. I let out a little laugh as she ruffles my hair and goes to grab a seat next to me. I don’t know what it is about her, but I like her. She seems really down to earth with the people she’s familiar with but also like she’ll crush you with her bare hands if you get on her bad side. I guess its safe to stay on her good side, then.

I finish the last bit of my coffee, which was right before Steve was done. He taps the table to get my attention. “Alright, rookie! Ready for the tour?” He asks and I nod my head.

“Ok, you kids have fun now. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tony says jokingly.

“Cool it, Tony! I’m just gonna show him around the place since no one here has done it yet.” Steve replies.

“Well, if thats the case, then you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along too, right boys?” Natasha says.

“Not at all.” I say. “The more the merrier!”

Natasha gets up from her chair and starts to head towards Steve and I, until Tony adds in something.“Alright, well just make sure you guys are ready for the party tonight.” Tony added. Steve rolls his eyes while Natasha groans.

“What party?” I ask.

“Stark, like his father, loves to throw parties for no exact reason.” Steve explains.

“Except now, Captain, there is a reason and its a pretty damn good one.” Tony says, getting up rest his hand on Steve’s left shoulder.

“Ok, what’s the good reason, then?” I ask.

“It’s for you.” Tony says pointing at me. “We’re cleebrating a new recruit to the team since we haven’t had one in 6 months. Unless, you’re not comfortable with us doing something like this for you.”

Thinking about it, it would give me an opportunity to get to know the team a lot better. Plus, it could take my mind off the current situation I’m dealing with. We’re dealing with. “Actually, I’d love to party with you guys. After what I’ve been through these past couple of days, I could really go for some real fun.” I say causing Steve shake his head in disapproval.

“Great! Which means I have a use for all that champagne I bought a week ago.” Tony says. The mention of alcohol at the party must’ve triggered Steve cause next thing I know, Steve and Tony get to arguing.

“Tony, don’t you think (Y/N)’s a little too young for alcohol?” Steve says.

“Well, he doesn’t have to have any. Unless you want to, (Y/N)?” Tony asks me.

“Uh… W-Well..” I stammer.

“It doesn’t matter if he wants to or not, Tony. He’s only 18!” Steve adds.

“If thats the only problem, Rogers, then we can just have the party in the UK. That way he’ll be at the legal drinking age.” Tony adds. Thats actually a very good idea. In the US, I’m too young to drink. But, if we go to the UK, I’ll be able to since the legal age there is 18. Plus, I’ve always wanted to go to the UK.

I finally gather the courage to speak up for myself. “You know what, Tony? I’d love to have the party in the UK! I’ve always wanted to go there, and I’ll actually be able to celebrate my recruitment. So, count me in!” I say with as much enthusiasm to light up the night sky.

“I like you, kid! You really know a good time when you hear one!” Tony says. Then, he looks up at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, send an invitation to everyone on the Avengers & Friends list to a party we’re going to be having in London, England, UK.”

“Right away, sir!” A lady said with an almost normal sounding voice. She sounded like Siri, but with more emotion. If thats even possible.

“Whose Friday?” I ask.

“Friday’s my personal AI. She’s basically the interface computer system for almost everything I use.” He explains pretty briefly. “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your two tour guides over there. In the mean time, I have a party to get ready for, and I suggest you guys do the same when your done showing him around. Also, (Y/N) if you want, I can invite your parents too.”

“That’d be great, actually! Thanks again, Mr. Stark.” I say and he winks at me before walking out to the hallway. I turn around and see Steve burning holes in Tony’s back while clenching his teeth in… Anger? I didn’t even know Captain America got angry.

“Ok well we better get a move on. Don’t wanna be late to your own party, do you?” Natasha asks and I shake my head. “Alright then, come with us…”

“Actually on second thought, you guys go ahead without me. I’m gonna take a quick nap before the party starts.” Steve says interrupting Natasha before storming off to the elevator. Damn, I must’ve really ticked him off somehow.

“Alright, lets hurry up then.” She says, paying no attention to Steve’s annoyed tone but noticing the concern writen all over my face. “Hey, don’t worry about him. He gets a little heated when Tony gets his way. Same goes for Tony if the roles were reversed. All he needs is that nap he was talking about and he’ll be back to his star-spangled, self.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I say, trying to sound more agreable than I really am. Natasha hooks her arm with mine and we begin the tour.

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Alright so now that I’m done with this chapter, I realize how shitty it is and how much I’m dragging on these situations… Sorry but I really can’t help it. I get so into the character’s dialogue, but I hope you guys enjoyed!! Peace!