#and before you say ''oh get blender'' i have it . gives me a headache too many buttons

[malwarechips]

surv !!

[ptergwen]

last christmas

w/c: 2.0k

warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness

summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit

a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy

━━━ *:･。.

“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.

that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.

it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.

the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.

your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”

the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.

you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.

harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.

“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.

━ ❆

it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.

“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.

“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.

there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”

harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.

at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.

he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.

“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”

he smiles about it the whole way home.

━ ❆

the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.

what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.

“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.

“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.

“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.

“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.

“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.

harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.

“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”

“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.

it can’t be...

“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”

your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.

“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.

“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”

━ ❆

the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.

tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”

“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”

“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.

“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.

“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.

“surprise me.”

-

i made a new taglist form, so fill it out if you want!! the link is in my bio

[jj-ktae]

Note I - Ionones -

Moodboard : Courtesy of the lovely Jacqueline @jaebeomsmullet​ ! Thank you for helping and hyping and just being here whenever I need it.

›  Title : Fragrances ›  Genre : Angst, Fluff, Romance, Composer!Jungkook x Perfume Maker!Reader ›  Pairing :  Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader ›  Warning : Mentions of Suicide, heavy subjects, depression (none of these are used with the idea of glamourising mental illness), strong language, smut in later chapters probably. Do not read if any of these trigger you.

›  Author’s note : This is another version of the story I wrote a few years ago for GOT7. Some of the events will be different, others will not change just like some paragraphs will be the same and others won’t. Informations, definitions and words are taken from this website.

›  Summary : In the world of Perfume making, it is believed that everyone has their own natural fragrance. It is also believed that everyone has that one scent capable of making them feel a thousand things. You find yours in the form of a composer on the verge of breaking, right when you have to face one of the biggest challenge in your life.

Masterlist | Note I - Ionones |  Note II : Aldehydes

________

Note I: Ionones 

Violets and Iris depend on this group of highly valued synthetic chemicals. Used in small amounts in many floral, green, woody perfumes. Although this group of chemicals is dominated by just two chemicals "Ionone" and "Methyl Ionone" there are many, many isomers and qualities available that give different odour profiles from fruity - violet - green to iris. An important function is they act as blenders in a perfume helping the perfume to smell harmonious. It is also interesting to note that the nose quickly fatigues when smelling Ionones and the smell appears to fade. This same effect is found when smelling natural Violet flowers. 

You are going back home the first time you meet him. It takes a nanosecond for the feeling to hit you straight in the bones. It forces your steps to slow down and stiffens your muscles right in the middle of the streets. You think for a minute, contemplative and in awe. Nothing about his physical appearance strikes you at first, it’s your nose doing all the job. It’s overwhelming, and so very rare it can’t be ignored. You come across this type of person once in your life as they say, causing an overwhelming feeling you never pegged as being so entrancing. It brings back memories from times you thought were forgotten, makes you want to scream and laugh. He is leaning on the bridge’s safety barrier and he doesn’t see the way you’re frozen behind him, blinking. You have never met him but it feels like you’ve known him forever.

You almost forget about your dear bed for a minute, but your phone tears you out of your adoration and you snap, your pace fastening before the man can turn around. It is hard to say if he was able to see you, and you don’t want to go away but you’re aware it might seem weird so you just keep on walking. Your body revives and your heart slows when the air turns evanescent.

You’re at home when your phone rings again, which pulls an annoyed groan out of your mouth. “What?” you mumble, plopping on the sofa in desperation.

“You need to come to the meeting tomorrow morning.” Your boss’ voice feels like a scratch on broken glass and you wince, unpleased “they want you to be here, and we have to make sure they’ll work with us.” He adds to soften you.

“I’m never invited to these and I like it better that way, why tomorrow?”

“It’s a big brand, I want them to see who is going to be in charge of their perfume. They don’t want to talk with managers. They don’t care. I promised you holidays and I swear once this is over you’ll have it. Please.”

The headache is pounding yet you sigh, defeated. You can’t reject this, you’re in no position to do that.

“I’ll be here.” You sigh, his relief now evident yet adding to your misery.

He is beaming on the phone, rushing thanks and stuttering, probably because of what seems to be a big, juicy contract. Exciting. His voice is way too loud when he wishes you a good night, leaving you with the deafening silence once he hangs up. 

Being a composer is your job. You’re often called a perfume-composer, a perfume maker or even a perfumer and all of these are fine with you. It all explains the same thing; you use your nose to put scents together and create a perfume. You usually work with a tight schedule and precise requests, leaving you with generic projects. They involve what you call capitalist perfumes, targeted and produced for masses instead of harmony. Nowadays perfumes are for ‘suave’, ‘sexy’, ‘dynamic’ or even ‘active’ people. They’re best-sellers, perfumes you smell in the streets, shops, public transport, elevators. They’re repetitive and senseless. What used to be something exciting is now boring and dull. 

You’re even starting to be disgusted by some of your creations.

And it’s for a good reason. People do not buy perfume according to their own smell. It’s something that is barely exploited by the companies, the probability of not selling in mass too counterproductive to bother explaining why some perfumes are not suited to everyone. You see it in the stores, how vendors spray anyone willing to be perfumed. These places became a hotchpotch of scents and it gets to your nose so easily it hurts.

You are able to distinguish a lot of different scents, and this is your job. Mixing stuff, looking for new elements, blend oils, this is what you love about making perfume. Your sensitive nose had made you choose a career surrounded by a farandole of fragrances, and while it may sound like a horrible life, it was what had helped you survive the probability of a boring job surrounded by horrible coworkers. It’s a solace so unusual and mysterious that you can selfishly appreciate its beauty and complexity on your own.

But now, you find yourself doubting as you peak at your neat organ*, brown and rustic. You didn’t sign for tasteless nights and headaches.

Going to sleep is hard that night, when your brain can’t forget about this man and his scent, his oh so perfect scent which you have yet to put a finger on. You finally forget about him and your brain turns off, while another person is going back home, head heavy and mind lost.

Jungkook throws his bag on his table and goes on the floor, silent.

He wasn’t able to end his life, again.

__

It’s hard to believe that you are currently meeting with a famous brand directly. Most of the time, they would meet your managers and you’d have a project sent over your way, leaving you a mere two weeks to work on a foolish project with foolish requests. 

Today you are in shock though, because they are asking you what you want to do. It’s the first time you get asked about this and it frightens you, it scares the hell out of you when you suddenly have too much freedom. All ideas evaporate, like you have no taste and no dreams for a perfect perfume.

The woman’s stilettos make too much noise on the floor, and she speaks in a slow and irritating manner, like you’re too stupid to understand her request.  She comes closer and you smile, weakly. It’s a mix between pain and fear, it looks like she is about to eat you up. Maybe it is because you look like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m asking you about your plans concerning our next fragrance. You get that we want an Eau de Parfum, and not an Eau de Toilette, which means we need lasting scents. We have no guidelines, no themes, no requests, just a thirst for your creativity. You have what it takes to make it from scratch without us poking into your business- I mean, I'll be here to check on how it is going, of course.” She speaks words at an incredibly fast pace, with a tone deprived of any doubt.

All you feel is your boss’ stare, boring holes into your back; he knows what you’re going to answer. “I’m afraid we don’t work that way. How am I supposed to know what kind of product you need? Don’t you already have an advertisement sample to show me? A muse, somebody representing the brand?” You try the best you can, because now you have too many possibilities and it can’t happen. 

“We only have you and your talent, for now.”

Your boss walks up to you two and waves his hands “Not that we think you’re not worth our time, but we mostly work based on requests. We need a guideline.” He pleads, and his fake laugh nearly makes you scoff. 

But the woman is thick headed, and she points a finger at you, accusingly. “This person doesn’t need us in order to create a perfume. We’ve been following you for so long after your last fragrance won 1st rank in Vogue’s top 10 Perfume recommendations. You were not easy to find, though.” 

But you know, you know it wasn’t your own work, but simply something you were asked to do. “I’m sorry madam, but I simply did as I was told. Without this, I’m nothing.” You say and it sounds depreciatory concerning your own capacities but you don’t care. You are getting so scared right now that you’re ready to call yourself a scam in front of anyone.

The woman laughs and it looks like she can see through you “There is a thousand way to create a perfume with the same elements. You simply refuse to admit you’re a genius, but we both know you can’t waste your time beating yourself.” She adds and lets the contract fall on the glass table, stilettos beating the floor again and her expensive bag back on her shoulder.

“What the hell was that?” Your boss takes the contract and starts reading, but you just want to cry. You don’t want to do this, because you’re scared and afraid and you know you will fail. At the same time, you wanted this, you wanted to create on your own. You had thrown away so many samples until now, thinking it was useless. Now that somebody is asking for your true self, you back off. Your brain screams at you to stop being so contradictory and grasp that opportunity but you just feel numb and pressured and it’s enough to petrify you.

“I can’t. We can’t.” You mumble but your boss looks shocked, mouth agape and fingers gripping the contract.

“This is big, Y/N. Looks at this.” He says and you feel like fainting when you see the amount of money they are willing to pay. You know your boss will never refuse this and panic takes over.

Your shaky fingers almost tear the contract away “I’m going to fail; they will lose their time and the company will be ruined, you know it!”

But he knows better and smiles sweetly at you. “You’re always complaining about plain perfumes and cheap fragrances. You’re given a chance to compose on your own and I fully support you, so please tell me you’ll try, at least. We still have an observation period in case you can’t do it, okay?” you know he is not thinking about the money only, yet you hardly think he is thinking about your well-being either but you can’t refuse now, and you’re left with two pieces of paper and a lump in your throat as your boss goes out of the big office.

For the next couple of days it’s all you can think about, while your boss keeps on calling to make sure you’ll do it. You try to act rebellious a few times but to no avail; you end up agreeing because you don’t have the luxury nor the power to reject this offer.

You agree but deep inside you’re burning with fear. It’s not even exciting, it’s like a wide ocean, with no shores and huge waves. It’s suffocating.

The second time you meet the mysterious guy, he is at the same spot. He keeps on leaning against the bridge, and his whole existence looks like a misery but his smell makes you slow down again. It’s overwhelming, almost unbearable. There is no way a perfume can do that.

It’s a natural smell.

He doesn’t see you and you don’t see his face, but this is not even important right now. Your brain goes back and forth, and it’s a long journey to your past. This guy doesn’t even feel your presence and when you walk away, the feeling is gone, and you breathe again.

__

“I’m glad you decided to take this offer.” You’re just behind her. She is walking fast, passing halls after halls and you look around, unfamiliar with the smell. It’s like you’re entering the mafia because everyone bows like she owns the place. Only her smell lingers, suiting her perfectly.

Leather.

“As written in the contract, we will provide a lab and supplies. We can have everything you need, so feel free to ask.” She is bragging, and you know it’s her way of making you feel at ease but it’s even scarier. Obviously they are going to provide whatever you need. It's a big investment for little result.

“Oh, and I’ll introduce you to your assistant.” She turns around and winks at you.

“I- I have an assistant?” you stutter, it’s unreal. You don’t mind working alone- why would you even need someone to help?

“You’ll have an assistant, of course. You’re telling me you don’t have one at your company ?” You shake your head with power and she gasps “See? You don’t deserve to be treated this way.” She whispers and opens a door, white and shiny.

When you enter, the smell is strong with disinfectant. There’s no doubt they deep cleaned this place for the launching of a new product. The walls are grey, covered by old advertising pictures from the brand, the furniture seems brand new and there is a man. He looks around you age, with designer clothes and loafers. His hair is blond and he is wearing blue lenses. 

“You’re here already?” The woman asks and he nods, his plumps lips revealing shiny teeth. He looks so happy.

“I couldn’t miss it, not when you’re bringing a genius here.” He talks funny and walks with no hidden enthusiasm. He looks like he is out of a fashion show and it’s making you step back with apprehension.

“Good, I guess we can start with the introductions. Meet your assistant.” He offers a hand and his smile widens when you reciprocate the gesture.

He smells like your latest creation “I’m Park Jimin. Nice to meet you, boss.”

Boss. What the hell.

“Nice...to meet you too?” It sounds like a question, but it’s actually a plea. You don’t want to do this. 

“I’m so glad you agreed on working with us! It’s not easy to know who hides behind perfumes and it was hard to find you but we did !” He beams at the woman as she taps his shoulder, nodding.

“You found me ? How ?”

“I saw you at a launch product party.  When I heard it was you I was so happy. I’m a big fan.” He laughs and you feel even more burdened. The woman is looking at you two like a proud - and rich - mother 

“You’re wearing-”

“Yeah, it’s yours! Amazing, right? Oh, tell me if it suits me!” He lifts his head and offers you his neck, giggling. 

“Jasmine. You bring out the jasmine in it.” 

It’s true, Jasmine suits him.

He makes a weird noise before pointing a finger at the lady “I told you! She is a genius! It’s exactly why I bought it.” 

“Since you’re getting along pretty well, I’ll leave you in the hands of this young boy.” Her strong smell of musk stays behind her when she turns around and leaves the room.

“I’m such a big fan of you. You might find it weird, but I bought every single perfume you made. For study purposes, of course!” He is embarrassed but a second later, he is back to serious. “You don’t wear perfume.” He looks intrigued.

“It blurs my sense of smell.”

“Oh my god, this is exactly what a genius would say.” He shakes his head, amazed at your apparently smart answer and proceeds to show you around the lab, the explanations never ending.

The rest of the day is spent next to this guy, who knows every single person in the building. You keep on shaking hands, and soon, you’re exhausted. Jimin is chatting non-stop, offering you drinks and being a perfect assistant.

You discover he is still an apprentice in the perfume industry and is aiming to become a composer for the brand. He tells you he loves fashion, and this you noticed, but he also says something that triggers you.

I want to be like you 

You want to laugh at him for being such a fanboy, and you tell him numerous times that the perfumes you made are only things you were asked to create, that it wasn’t your own work, but he brushes you off, explaining you know nothing about your own skills. Jimin is the type of guy who loves to socialise, he has this way of communicating that makes everyone love him. The same day, you go back home with his phone number saved and a tone of messages from him about how excited he is to be working under your care.

On your way back home, you don’t see the guy.

__

Jungkook has plenty of time to think and he doesn’t like it. His apartment is silent and not even the cars passing by outside can ease the emptiness. He doesn’t dare look at the papers scattered on the floor. They are all creased, and the trash is full. He wants to crash the whole place; he wants to tear it to pieces. It’s infuriating, how everything is here for purpose and he has nothing to look forward to.

He can’t stand it anymore.

His phone rings but he ignores it. His best friend has been calling all day, and he knows he’ll receive a lot of nagging from him but he doesn’t care. 

Soon, nobody will have to deal with his abnormal self.

Maybe it was supposed to end like this, even though he has no idea when it actually started. All Jungkook knows is that at some point, he became useless. He used to be efficient, powerful. But now everything is dull. His eyes burn, his ears ring, his mouth is dry.

This is garbage. You’re not what you used to be. Where did your talent go ?

He can stand critiques; he knows the music industry and its perks but he can’t stand being belittled. He doesn’t want anyone to question his way of functioning but it was starting to get a bit too frequent for his taste.

He gets up and goes to his huge and sophisticated window.

He wants everything to stop.

__

“How did you end up being a perfume maker?” Jimin is swallowing his food, filling the whole lab with spiciness and you want him to go away.

“Give me the bergamot sample.” You open another small bottle and ignore his question, trying to focus on your task.

“You’ve been on this all day, have a break, boss.” He tries although his voice is muffled by all the food he is trying to swallow. You know he is right. You have absolutely no idea about what you’re doing, so you mix stuff in hope of a miracle. Nothing works, everything smells terrible, it’s disgusting even.

“Here, drink something, at least. Take your time.” He coos with a worried expression.

You sigh and rub your face, tired. “I can’t do this.” 

“I know, they gave you nothing. I’m here to help so don’t stay quiet and let’s think about this together. I know how they work, let’s take our time, no one is rushing you yet.”

You look at the scattered glass bottles and smelling strips. This is a mess.

Jimin asks you if you want to go to a party held by another luxury brand the same night but you refuse. He isn’t surprised when you tell him you hate going to these places. You’re not the type of person who likes to socialise, and your assistant understands but tells you that you have to go with him next time. You also refuse.

So you go back home. Your head hurts, your body is sore, and your brain is empty. The air is thick with humidity but you like how it resets your sense of smell, erasing all the stuff you’ve been smelling all day. 

The guy is here. He is leaning against the bridge again but something about him irks you. He is shivering. His smell slowly fills your nostrils as you approach him and you can’t help but notice that he is leaning against the barrier a bit too much. He sighs, again and again and when he leans even more to look at the river under the bridge, you stop walking.

You’re right behind him.

It’s true that you’re not into socialising, but you definitely recognise someone in pain. His smell makes you move on your own and before he can sigh some more, you find yourself next to him.

It’s even stronger now.

He isn’t surprised when he feels somebody next to him. He stays quiet and acts like he is alone but straightens his back like he was caught doing something wrong.

“Did you...lose something?” You ask, peeking at the river far under your feet. You know he didn’t, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s not the first time you see him here.

“No.” His answer is short and it allows you to finally take a good look at his face. His brown locks cup his face, from his shiny eyes to his round nose and pouty lips. He’d look cool if it wasn’t for his pitiful aura.

“Are you trying to...?” You begin but his eyes go wide and you both understand. He can’t hide it anymore. You don’t notice how blunt your words are but your brain is processing too many things to focus on your conversational skills.

“Can you...leave me alone?” his voice is low and the words are slow. He is almost pleading.

“I can’t. You’re about to do some serious shit right now.”

“I’m not. Go away.” He asks again and you can feel how annoyed he is now.

“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I doubt you should be thinking about this.” He laughs at you and you regret trying to be such a smart-ass.

“How would you know? Just go, please.” He is irritated now, but you can’t let him do that. His smell works like a spell on you.

“I just do. Stop this. I’m not going anywhere until you go back to a safe place.”

“There is no such place. We don’t even know each other.” He is now looking at you with a bored expression.

“You must have a place to stay.” 

He sighs loudly and turns to you, looking exhausted “I don’t, I’m homeless. What are you going to do about it?” 

“Then come to my place.” You shrug and he makes a face. There is no way you just asked him to come to your place, right?

“You must be crazy.” He breathes but you shake your head. You can’t let this smell go to waste. Not when you don’t know what it is.

Your mind is screaming.

“I’m perfectly fine. If you’re going to do something stupid, I’ll call for help. If you don’t, then come to my place. I have enough room for two anyways.” You are really crazy.

“You’re a stranger. I might be some psycho running out there.”

“You’re none of that. Don’t try to make me back off.” He doesn’t smell like trouble. He smells like safety.

And he is crazier than you, because he agrees. His backpack is firmly hanging on his shoulder when he turns to face you once again.

“You’re not going to let me be.” Jungkook knows that at some point, he won’t get out of this. Now that you discovered what he is about to do, he won’t be in peace until you make sure he is safe, which is totally crazy. Serves him right for not even being good enough to leave peacefully.

“You...agreed?” 

“What, you changed your mind? Good, then I can-”

“No! it’s fine! I thought I was being too crazy, that’s all.” 

Jungkook nods. “This is crazy, but it can’t get any worse now.”

So you walk in front of him and toward your place. It is hard to think or talk with the smell right behind you, but you keep the game strong and walk proudly, like you just did something great. And you did, you’re bringing him home, when he was about to throw himself off the bridge. You don’t dare ask for more right now, because he might run away.

You open the door and Jungkook stops as soon as he enters the place.

It’s huge.

“There is a guest room but It’s full of my stuff. I’ll take it off tomorrow.” You say, taking off your coat.

“So I’m living here now?” Jungkook scoffs, hoping he is being sarcastic enough to make you give up on him.

“Why not? If you’re homeless, you can stay. I’ll note the door’s passcode on a piece of paper for you.  Also, here is the-”

“Wait, I’m not going to live with you.” 

“So where are you going to live? On this bridge?”

“I still have a flat until the end of the month, I lied. I thought you were crazy so I said whatever came to my mind.” He confesses, almost feeling guilty. 

You’re not mad, not at all. Because now your flat is full of his smell, and it makes your brain work again. You want to know what it is.

“Oh then you’ll be homeless by the end of the month. If you’re uncomfortable, you can pay for your room. I don’t mind.” You shrug and his mouth is wide opened now.

You are really insane. Really.

“This situation is beyond weird. I don’t even know you.” 

“And I don’t know you either, but you didn’t slaughter me yet so I guess we’re cool.” You’re being a bit too familiar but he doesn’t notice it, and simply walks deeper into your living-room.

Jungkook doesn’t know what is happening, but in a way, it’s not worse than his current situation. He wouldn’t be homeless; he would never be homeless but he prefers this rather than going back to the family house and admitting he failed. His best-friend is going to lecture him about how the music industry is full of drug addicts, and his parents, oh his parents.

His father would be too happy to prove his superiority.

His pride speaks for him “Okay, I agree. But I’m not staying for free.” He sits on the expensive couch and you know you’ve won this fight.

“Good. My name is Y/N. You are…?”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” He lets his head fall on the fluffy material and closes his eyes. He is exhausted. He needs some sleep.

“Nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook.” You speak like a robot, making him smile uncomfortably and mumble an answer. He doesn’t know why he is feeling so calm when he was about to do something horrible. Maybe he is going insane too. Maybe he has no idea what is going on in his life. 

“You can wander the flat, I don’t mind. I’m seriously spent so I’ll head to bed. The guest-room is right there and the bedding is clean, I think...ah, the bathroom is at the end of this hall. Knock if you need something.” You escape now, the scent is filling the place and it makes your brain go wild. You don’t need this right now. Or maybe you do and you’re scared he will vanish if you push your luck any further.

“Good night. If you escape I’m going to fight you.” You try to warn him but he simply nods, smiling apologetically. He makes an okay sign and you don’t know why, but you believe him. 

You forget about the probability of him being a scam, a thief, a killer or whoever could hurt you in your sleep. You just focus on the feeling, that one scent invading your olfactory bulb and exciting your axons.

You can’t sleep that night. Jungkook either.

He is thinking about a thousand things. He falls asleep at some point, body as exhausted as his brain. When he wakes up, he finds himself alone in the huge flat along with a sticky note, neat on the fridge.

Suit yourself, I’ll be back by 8 p.m.

Even in the middle of this movie-like situation, he can’t help but look around the rooms, staring at the paintings and furniture. The place is cuddly, calm and warm. He starts writing when he doesn’t find it in himself to question his life choices. The living-room is perfect for his plan and it doesn’t take long for him to fill numerous pages.

Inspiration is creeping and he can’t let it go.

___

*Organ : Refers to a unit of stepped shelving containing hundreds of bottles of raw materials. Arrangement is in a way to assist the perfumer in the creation and compounding of perfume compositions.

[a-yellow-book]

If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.

In which Wen Kexing shamelessly courts Zhou Zishu with cheesy pick-up lines instead of beautiful ancient Chinese poetry, and Zishu falls for him anyway. (Alternatively, if Word of Honor was a modern romantic comedy.)

[read on ao3 instead]

Zhou Zishu was not looking forward to his closing shift at the cafe tonight. Thinking about the pile of case studies he still had to read through sent him down a spiral of sadness. It was a Saturday night, for goodness’ sake. He wasn’t gunning for a rowdy night-out at bars. All he wanted was to finish his readings and then to curl up on his cozy couch and snuggle in with his cat to watch a wuxia drama. But alas, Zishu couldn’t say no when his boss called, asking if he could cover A-Ying at the last minute because he’d gone skating and knocked his head on the metal railings, no doubt concussed.

It’s ok! It might be a slow night and I can get some readings done there, Zishu reassured himself. That, and also he needed extra money anyway. Jiuxiou’s surgery was coming up soon and they needed whatever extra funds they could get.

Pushing the cafe’s door open, Zishu greeted Heilan, who barely looked over at him. “Urg, you’re finally here. Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, I missed the bus,” Zishu said, shrugging off Heilan’s rudeness. The kid treated everyone whose parents weren’t millionaires with disdain. He was forced to get a job so his dad would let him keep his (unlimited) credit card. Something about teaching him a lesson. Zishu didn’t think it was working.

Before Zishu even managed to set his bag down in the back room and clock in, Heilan had already gathered his stuff and left. “Tsk, tsk, youths these days,” Zishu shook his head mockingly.

It was already close to five o’clock. There might be a bit of a rush as the office workers and students stop by for a quick pick-me-up after a long day. Zishu put on a new apron around his waist, washed his hands, and headed out to the front counter to take stock of the status of the store. Heilan was notorious for not caring to refill any supplies at the end of his shifts.

The cup racks were almost empty. There were random mixing utensils, cups, and blenders left unwashed, littering around the equipment. Sighing, Zishu rolled up his sleeves to get to work cleaning the mess Heilan left behind.

Just as Zishu put the last bit of clean dishes away, the door’s bell rang, signaling the entrance of the first customers since he clocked in. Turning around, drying his hands on his apron, Zishu greeted, “Welcome to Four Seasons Cafe!” And promptly stopped dead in his tracks when he finally processed what he was looking at.

The person standing in front of Zishu had to be the most stunning man he’d ever seen. His eyes sparkled with mirth, his lips quirked up in a perpetual smirk, and his jawline was as sharp as knives. And his hair! It was a beautiful silver starlight waves cascading down his shoulders. And his beautiful pastel green suit! Ahh! Realizing he was staring, Zishu awkwardly cleared his throat and asked, “What can I get for ya?”

The beautiful man kept looking at Zishu. He definitely noticed the blush that was blooming on Zishu’s cheeks. “I assume you know what’s on the menu?” Zishu was taken a bit off guard by the strange question, but before he could answer, the man continued, “Me ‘n’ u.”

For all the years he’d worked at various restaurants and coffee shops, Zishu had yet to encounter someone so... alluring (?) and shameless (!). “I’m afraid that’s not on our blackboard,” he replied after a short moment spent recovering his wits, and pointed at the said blackboard nailed on the wall behind him.

Undeterred, the stranger smiled and continued, “Oh? Well, that’s a shame - because if I were the alphabet, I would put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together when I write your menu.”

Zishu had to give him points for those cheesy lines only made funnier and cheesier with his dead-ass serious delivery. “If we ever decide to rewrite our boards, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Zishu said, biting his lips to keep himself from smiling at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“Hmm, hmm, good, that is reassuring to hear,” the stranger nodded thoughtfully.

“So! Is there anything on our board that I could get for ya?” Zishu asked, clapping his hands together and putting on a chirpy tone. If this guy was flirting with him, he might leave a hefty tip!

“Uhmm,” he paused, pursuing the menu with great care. “I would love to try the ‘you mocha me crazy’ with an extra espresso shot, please.”

Grabbing a cup and marker, Zishu fought against the urge to dig a hole to hide in before asking, “Alrighty! What’s your name?” Internally, he was cursing A-Ying for coming up with the outrageous and horrific punny names for their specials.

“Kexing, Wen Kexing.”

“Great! It’ll be right out!” Zishu said, scribbling the name down on the side of the cup and promptly turned around, about to get started making the drink.

“Uhm, excuse me?” Kexing, the beautiful stranger said, sounding full of suppressed laughter. “Should I pay now?”

“OH!” Zishu immediately turned back around, “Yes, right. Sorry about that!” He quickly ran up the total, accepted the money from the smiling stranger, and repeated, “Great! It’ll be right out!”

There had to be a hole large enough for him to hide in. He could not endure this embarrassment any longer.

“There’s no need to rush!” Kexing, the infuriating stranger said.

“I don’t want to...uhm... delay you...” Zishu said lamely.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Zishu could feel his cheeks flaming up. He turned all his attention and focused on making the mocha, which he could do in his sleep, to avoid looking at the (shameless!) man. With a flick of his wrist, he drizzled the raspberry syrup around the cup, letting it drip down to make a fancy pattern before pouring in the chocolate syrup, milk, and topping it off with the espresso shots.

Giving the cup a slight shake, Zishu grabbed a bamboo straw and handed both to the (shameless!) man, who hadn’t moved an inch from his spot by the front counter. “Here you go!”

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out with both hands to grab the cup and incidentally caught Zishu’s hand as well. (Zishu was sure it was a deliberate move, considering how shameless the man was.) “I’ve told you my name, but I still don’t know yours,” he said, continuing to hold onto the cup (and Zishu’s hand).

“Oh, uhm,” Zishu wiggled his hand, successfully dislodging it. Before he could think of a fake name to give out, the cafe’s door swung open and A-Ying stepped in.

“A-Xu!” A-Ying greeted, seemingly not noticing the tension between his best friend and the customer. “I’m here!!!!!!!”

Seeing A-Ying all bandaged up standing in the cafe was enough to jerk Zishu out of the staring contest he had unwittingly been engaged in with the stranger. “What are you doing here?!”

“Hi!” A-Ying greeted the stranger, thinking he was just a normal customer. “Sorry - I wanted to come in to help you close! It’s too much work for one person.”

“But you have a concussion! You need to go rest!” Zishu grabbed A-Ying by the shoulders, turned him around and about to march him right the fuck back home.

“No, I’m fine! Just a tiny headache and a scratched forehead,” A-Ying protested.

“But---!”

“Besides, I’ve been taking so many days off recently. I need to make up for that.”

“A-Ying, you’re going to clock in and you’re going to sit in the back, resting,” Zishu declared. “Or else I’d knock you out for real.”

A-Ying raised his hands placatingly, “Ok, ok, ok!”

With A-Ying retreating to the back, Zishu let out a sigh. This kid, always trying to be helpful to others but didn’t know how to take care of himself.

“A-Xu?” It was the stranger who called out to Zishu, “Xu is a beautiful name.”

“I--uhm, thanks. It’s a nickname,” Zishu corrected.

“Oh? Then would it be ok if I call you by A-Xu?” Wen Kexing asked.

“Sure,” Zishu shrugged. He figured the man might not come back anyway.

“It was really nice to meet you, A-Xu!” He said cheerfully before leaving (finally!).

“Who was that?” A-Ying emerged from the back, tying an apron on and looking at the retreating Wen Kexing curiously.

“No one, just a customer,” Zishu might have said that a tad too quickly. Also, he was sure his cheeks were still dusting pink from all the flirting.

“Ooooohhhhh, I’m sensing something else is going on!!!” A-Ying teased. He could read his best friend as easily as an open book. “That guy is so cute! Good for you, A-Xu!”

“If you aren’t already hurt, I will kick you so hard right now,” Zishu threatened without much bite.

“Yea, yea, sureeee.”

The glare Zishu directed at A-Ying was sharp enough to cut steel. “Why did you come out here? Huh? What did I tell you?”

“A-Xu, A-Xu!! I’m just going to sit here and do nothing! Ok!” A-Ying said, waving his hands wildly at the chair propped against the back counter.

Just as Zishu was about to scold A-Ying, the door swung open, and a group of students piled in, talking loudly among themselves. Turning around to A-Ying, Zishu pointed a stern finger and said, “You will not move an inch from that chair. Got it?”

“Got it, boss!” A-Ying said, smiling widely, already thinking of how he was going to stealthily make the drinks anyway.

[roguish-gallery]

Rogues + Hangover HCs

Okay so I might have had a bit too much to drink last night, and I wrote these to help me ride out today’s headache lmao. slight TW for alcohol mentions!

Bane:

A mere hangover cannot, nor will it ever, defeat him. He is too strong, too powerful for a silly headache.

That’s right! This bitch has the audacity to wake up and go workout in spite of the fact that he feels like he’s dying! In fact, he is so annoyed by his hangover that he works out even HARDER.

Aaaaaand after he gets back from that he has to lie down in the bathroom because now he feels even WORSE but the bathroom tile is nice and cold and it makes him feel marginally better.

Catwoman:

An absolute fucking mess. Old makeup smeared over her face, throbbing headache, can’t walk in a straight line.

100 percent can’t be near food because she. will. throw. up. Just the smell of bacon will make her stomach churn- She will only feed her cats dry food whenever she’s hungover because she can’t stand the idea of opening up several cans of tuna.

She spends half the day cuddling her cats and watching reruns of Seinfeld.

Harley Quinn:

Has all of these crackhead “hangover cures” that she takes seriously. No one else thinks they work but Harles swears by their authenticity.

Like. Raw eggs and lemon juice. A spoonful of dry oatmeal and mayo. Weird shit.

She’s miserable but this is neither her first nor her last hangover so she knows how to function in spite of it.

Joker:

He doesn’t get hangovers because he’s a twisted fucking cycle path.

Killer Croc:

Why is it so bright out and why is everyone so noisy he doesn’t like it at all :(

At some point he must have toppled over onto a table the night before, because he’s picking splinters out of his scales. Not fun.

Swears up and down that he’s never going to drink jungle juice again. This is a lie and he knows it, but it makes him feel better.

Mad Hatter:

Eughhhgghhh,,,,, everything is so dizzy…

Being polite and whimsical is too hard rn his head hurts and he’s going back to bed.

No fancy clothes today!!! No hats!!!! He’s only wearing a pair of boxers and a shirt he stole from Jonathan and that’s it! He’s allowed to take a day off from being eccentric!!!

Penguin:

Oz DESPERATELY wants to stay in bed but he’s too responsible to give himself that luxury (oh… where was that responsibility last night??? Where did it go when he was ordering his third sangria???)

Takes a COLD ASS shower and just stands there for twenty minutes- probably pressing his face up against the chilled tiling. It kinda reboots his system? He mostly does it because it drowns out the headache.

After that, he takes an aspirin and hopes for the best. He WILL be checking his phone’s history to make sure he didn’t do anything “unbecoming” (which is Oswald’s way of saying that he wants to make sure he didn’t drunk text anyone or, goodness forbid, ordered ANOTHER fucking blender. this has already happened twice and he can only regift them to people so many times before someone notices a pattern).

Poison Ivy:

Dasdkhjflkjsdhf fuck yall bitches she’s got regenerative health she woke up with clear skin and absolutely 0 regrets

Watches in horrified bemusement as Harley tries to swallow a glass of raw eggs and ranch dressing to “cure her hangover”

*Steps over Selina while she’s puking her guts out in the toilet* “hey I’m gonna step in the shower hope you don’t mind.”

Riddler:

There are only three occasions where Edward Edwin Nygma is ever quiet: when he’s asleep, when he’s dead, and when he’s hungover.

He doesn’t have the will to do ANYTHING. He’ll just sprawl over the couch, wearing a bathrobe that doesn’t belong to him (most certainly owned by Oswald at some point, down to his initials being sewn atop the breast pocket) and slowly… methodically feed himself tic tacs until he has the energy to get up and do something.

And by “do something” that means he’ll eventually crawl over to his desktop and play some RuneScape.

Scarecrow:

He ACTS like nothing is different, but the astute will notice that he seems to be drinking… more coffee than usual.

Also, where did he get those sunglasses? Jonathan Crane doesn’t normally wear sunglasses. And is he wearing comfortable clothes? Are those sweatpants? Is he wearing an old Gotham U t-shirt? 

Do NOT talk to him do NOT look at him do NOT even fucking think about him he is NOT in the mood!!!!

Two-Face

The only reason he woke up and got out of bed was to puke.

Yknow… he WAS going to pull a heist later tonight but… ehhh… he’s not in the mood anymore. The zest for crime has left him. He’ll just have to rob the Gotham Bank of its two dollar bills the next time it’s February 2nd… whenever that will fucking be.

*shamefully puts on some pants so he can get himself some hash browns and orange juice at the Batburger across the street.*

[tothedarkdarkseas]

OK, so I just had a horrible thought and you said you like hearing headcanons, so here you go! So, take Murdoc's dog thing, the fact that he's not a "good boy at heart" (like you said), and him being valid. Put it in a blender and I think Murdoc likes being called 'good/bad boy' during sex (in the very, very patronising dog sense). Something, something, "being accepted as the nasty, little junkyard stray you are, faults and all." I know it's subtext, but imagine it as text. I can see him going deep into sub space (a la Iggy Pop if you've ever seen his thousands of dog collar pics—God bless).

Resting his head on his one-night stand's chest, laying in between their legs and drooling, while they thread their fingers through his hair and call him a messy, shaggy mutt and Murdoc's so spent that all he can do is groan tiredly. Stu making him sleep on the bottom of the bed, face-up or curled-up like a dog would. Murdoc "closing his eyes and mind" and feeling Stu's hand scruff his neck on the floor when he's being troublesome and guilt-wracked. Murdoc struggling to get a grip and find purchase, feeling everything slip away from him as his mind slips further down. Murdoc getting into an alleyway bar fight and traipsing into the kitchen like a wet, bloody hound and Stu grinning at him and telling him he needs to behave before he puts him down and Murdoc smiling coyly, rubbing his face at the sink, but never breaking eye contact with Stu.

Murdoc trailing after him, offering to suck his dick while he's got a headache and a bad case of dick rash and Stu says, "Unless you've got horse tranq in your mouth, I don't fucking want it. Now, fuck off and find someone else to bark at before I neuter you." Actually, Stu being nasty in general to Murdoc. Whistling at Murdoc like a mutt to get his attention. Introducing Murdoc to people as his dog. Pointing at "No Dogs Allowed" signs and saying, "Ah, you can't go in." Opening the door to Murdoc's basement without knocking because they need him at band practice and yelling, "Where's my dog at?" Doesn't even get why it's rude; he just says it. Murdoc humping Stu's leg and whining like a badly trained animal and Stu tutting and saying, "There's my good boy" like something he heard out of a bad porno. Murdoc being contentious during practice and Stu twitching and turning around and saying, "Be a good boy and shut up, yeah, Murdoc?" And, of course, Murdoc's eyes are very far away then.

Stu explaining to groupies that Murdoc has to come along because, if he leaves him alone for too long, he'll start ripping up the furniture and it's not like Stu would ask them to get rid of their pets and one of the girls asks if that's true and Murdoc doesn't know what to say for a hot second and Stu is grinning across at him over their drinks. Telling Murdoc to stick his tongue out and clean her up after he's done and holding his neck like he's rubbing his face into the carpet. Her asking what is up between him and Murdoc and Stu saying, "Oh, he's just my dog" while she looks at him like he has a screw loose. Stu throwing a £20 bill at Murdoc and telling him to fuck off and find something to do, so he can cuddle in bed with her and try to convince her to stay and make him eggs and waffles in the morning. And Murdoc gives him an absolutely withering look like, "Right, you tosser" with maybe a hint of jealousy (and how much crack is he supposed to get with a twenty anyway? Stu, you slimy old codger). And, of course, Stu slaps him upside the head and tells him to git before he muzzles him for being such a yappy, little mongrel. ❤️

This is such a thorough scenario and dynamic you've described already, there's not much I can add onto this anon, so I hope you don't mind me publishing it as-is! I like the added detail that Stu's a right arsehole but sometimes he doesn't even know why he does it, he'll be rude without knowing why it’s rude, but he knows it fits with the manner of speech he's developed with Murdoc, and it's become an increasingly less private thing between them-- it's a bit like Murdoc's rubbed off on him, but a bit more like this dormant cruelty that Murdoc allows him to have, encourages, even incites in him.

(Also tag yourself, I'm the measly quarter-bump of speed Murdoc gets with the 20 pound note.)

[frankpanioncube]

Accidental Drunken Marriage Proposal

I like Mammon and Winter together. They’re ‘Just Friends’.

Winter sat at the table, staring at the glass half full...empty...of whiskey, or rather, past it. It was her second...or maybe third. The food was pretty good. The music was good. The human exchange student had come up with the theme and normally Winter could get behind some human world revelry. Yeah she could get why demons did this. 

The fact of the matter was that she wasn’t in very much of a party mood. Maybe those around sensed it as she’d been given a wide berth.

Maybe it was the fact she reeked of alcohol. 

Maybe it was definitely the fact she felt a little jilted given that the subject of her affections - one sports captain and Avatar of Gluttony was very obviously interested in someone else and she was definitely drinking away any temptation to be too envious. 

“Hey hey, what the hell? I been lookin’ for ya. S’party time…? Hey? Devildom to Winter? Second Circle of Hell cause soooomeone’s lookin’ mightly lustful Better look out for Asmo! Oh no yer sad. Sad Winter.”

“Huh?” A sort of faintly blurry brown skinned hand swam into view, waving in front of her face. “Oh...Mammon.”

The table rocked a bit as he pulled out a chair and slid into it. “Geez. I thought you’d be up for some fun at a ball, but I don’t think you can dance without falling over. So what’s eating you?”

Winter’s lip trembled.

“So what’s NOT eating yo--”

“Y’ever think...you’re going to…” Winter struggled to remember what she was saying. Whatever the blur was saying seemed unimportant. “Um…never...be with...anyone?”

Mammon shook his head. “Ohhhhkay someone’s pretty drunk. So.. Time to get ya outta here.”

“If...if I...dun...dun...uh...have a’yone else….we should get married.”

Mammon stumbled in the middle of hoisting her up and almost dropped her. Or maybe she’d stumbled. 

“Wit’ a biiiiig party…like this one. But better.”

Mammon paused mid eye roll. “And presents.” he mused.

“An’ lots of pres’nts.”

***

Winter awoke, her head screaming pain. Even an angel couldn’t shake off the amount of alcohol she’d consumed last night. 

This was her punishment for her indulgence. She brought a hand to her head, only to feel...fabric?

She looked at her hand. Why exactly was she wearing gold gloves?

Hopping up from the bed with confusion overriding her headache, she took a glance at herself in the mirror of her unfamiliar surroundings. A very...gaudy hotel room if she had to guess, but the full length gold ball gown and matching gloves and veil sat haphazard on her head offered her no clues as to what had happened.

Her DDD was in fact there, threatening to vibrate off the night stand. Maybe it could give some insight as to what had gone on and perhaps where the corpses of the award statues that had been skinned to make this dress were buried. 

She nearly tripped over a discarded pair of gold heels - clearly some kind of theme here.

There were hundreds of messages. And that was no exaggeration.

Lucifer: I must say I am not sure whether to refer you to a psychotherapist or to thank you for taking this burden off my hands. Rest assured I will not be providing any tacky or extravagant gifts. Weird. Lucifer offering gifts? What...burden had she lifted from him? They barely spoke and...her birthday wasn’t for months! Okay, maybe another one would offer more insight.

Winter scrolled randomly to the middle of the pile

Asmobaby: I would have loved to dressed you darling, but if that’s what you two wanted, I will respect that. And you looked lovely dear. You will have to tell me every detail of your night! I must know everything!

...so apparently she had WANTED to look like this. Her eyes zeroed in on the ‘two’. 

Sorry Asmo, I’m as in the dark as you are.

Beezleburger: I was surprised. If you want some time away from the team I understand. Congrats.

Time off the team for...OH….she’d been upset about Beel liking….but she hadn’t SAID anything. Not to mention if she had, he wouldn’t be congratulating her OR asking her if she’d like to take off time from the team. For WHAT? Couldn’t someone just tell her WHAT she had done?

Heavenly Father, this really was a punishment.

Belphie: Hey sorry we didn’t get you were depressed but there’s no reason to do something like that.

So. This was getting her nowhere fast.

She dropped the DDD into her skirts and sighed, but at that moment the door handle chose to turn.

It opened surprisingly slowly to reveal…

“Hey hey! You’re up!”

Mammon abandoned the door to slam, but he had a bucket of ice and right now she’d never been so happy to see anyone.

“Oh thank goodness.”

“What ya think I’d just leave ya here? Geez, that ain’t no way to speak of yer husband. What kinda demon do ya think I am?!”

“Shh, Mammon. Please, not so loud. I know you wouldn’t...I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

“What kinda--”

“No the...husband?”

“I mean after the workout you gave Goldie last night, I gotta say I better damn well be yer husband.”

“We…” And it was starting to come back. Mammon dragging her onto the table and yelling at the crowd. Stumbling with him into the limousine. The dress and the cake and all the champagne and the… “...top floor penthouse.” she finished. “That’s….all we did, right?”

She’d still looked very much like herself when she’d been looking in the mirror, but that dress was um...eye-catching. She put her hands in her hair as though to look for horns instead of a halo.

“Whaddya mean ‘that’s all’? That was like a threeway and everything was complete--oh US. Not a chance. You were very, very drunk Winter. I wouldn’t do that.” 

Winter sighed and sagged against him. “I know. I’m sorry, Mammon. I wish I remembered more of this...but headache aside, this is nice. More than nice.” It was too. Even the silly dress and well, if no one else appreciated Mammon, she always did. He was impulsive and a demon and The Avatar of Greed - one of the mortal sins, but he was her friend and he obviously wanted to be with her. “Thanks. Can I just rest properly...for a bit?”

He let her inch closer to him and she sighed, just a little. Normally it was the other way around wasn’t it? 

“Oi, don’t nap for too long...I can’t wait to get started.”

“S’alright…” As she drifted off, her last thought was “...for what?”

Winter woke up feeling much better. The dress and gloves had been discarded and Mammon had helped her into a shirt over the slip she had worn under the dress. The demon himself was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a mess of boxes and tissue paper. 

“What are you doing?”

He jumped and grabbed for a few things before relaxing. “Sorry I started without ya, but you weren’t wakin’ up.”

“Started what?”

He smirked. “Opening all the presents of course! I mean, like ya said last night. Big wedding, lotsa presents.” He jerked a thumb over at the wrapping paper and boxes.

The words hit Winter like a slap to the face. This wasn’t about her friend wanting to be with HER and indeed it never had been. And they called Mammon a fool. 

“Whatchya lookin’’ like that for? I mean, Marigold yellow I know, right, but ya don’t have to make such a scary face over a blender…”

“This was all about the gifts. Just that.”

“Was gonna share of course. I mean, it was your idea and it was a damn good one. C’mon…Plus I bought ya that dress, the party, the hotel room…”

“You have signed the bill “IOU ONE GOLD HEAVEN PAVEMENT - GOD.”

Mammon shrugged. “Hey’s custom fer yer dad ta pay fer half the wedding right?”

“That’s besides the point!” Winter hadn’t realized she had started to cry.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hey, stop...i mean don’t…”

“You are...a CRUEL demon and an absolutely MISERABLE excuse for a friend!” And Winter hauled her fist back and let fly, feeling the blow connect, but unable to see where through her tears and not caring to as she went racing from the room, out through the front and into the first taxi she’d seen, seeking out the one place she had for sanctuary in the entirety of the Devildom. 

The women’s locker room behind the stadium. Winter wasn’t JUST the only angel on the team, she happened to be the only female as well and so the women’s locker room was one spot she was guaranteed to never be bothered.

Mammon knew he’d done Winter dirty. The angel had always defended him, always had been kind. The blow she’d landed hadn’t even been hard but those words had hurt. He managed to check out, asking for the things in the room to be delivered to the House of Lamentation and set off for Purgatory Hall. 

He steeled himself and knocked at the front door. Who knew what you were gonna get in this den. 

“Mammon.Are you looking for Winter? I would have thought she would be with you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Ugh, that’s just it. I uh...I kinda...messed up.” he muttered. “I wanna find her. I mean. I know I gotta apologize for somethin’ but I ain’t even sure what it is. But she’s the only one of ya I can stand and so I gotta figure it out. Cause like, she’s...my friend. But she was the one who wanted ta get married and get tons of presents an’ I gave her a great wedding.”

“She didn’t want to get married to you just for presents. Now I recognize she was intoxicated to the teeth but...I know something about having a best mate in the world whom you come to love.” Siemon’s expression was inscrutable. “And something about making a mistake with them. The longer you allow this to fester, the harder it will be to fix. So, I think you should try the ladies’ locker room at the stadium.” 

“I can’t go into a ladies toilet!”

“I think this time you should be allowed.”

And with that Siemon closed the door, leaving Mammon to his decision.

The demon went.

***

Winter deleted all the well wishes from her DDD, which had taken her mind off things for a while. The bench wasn’t comfortable but the silence of the space was nice.

Until….Did the door just open? 

“Winter? Okay. Before you tell me ta ‘go away’ just listen. I did think ya just wanted...presents. An’ a party. But I…” Mammon sighed. “Alright look. I didn’t need presents or a party to want ta be with ya. I kinda like ‘husband’ actually. Means you’re mine ya know? “

Winter looked at him, sniffling a bit again. 

“I’m that bad at this? Geez..”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just...do you mean it?”

“Swear it on Goldie.”

The angel got up. “Maybe we could have a small party. With not a ton of alcohol or grand extravagant gestures.”

“That’d be nice. An’ ya know I’m not the only one who's bad at this. I mean your first proposal was drunk and your second was in a ladies’ toilet.” 

“...well I suppose then you’ll have to make the next one. Perhaps in a moderately priced private hotel room.” 

@beels-burger-babe

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

And They were Coffin-Mates

Title: And They were Coffin-Mates

Summary: “I’m a vampire.”

Out of all the things to come out of his best friend’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that. Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.”

Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

Word-Count: 3.5k

Pairings: platonic moxiety (they’re best friends)

Warnings: Vampires, blood mention, memory loss, involuntary turning, hurt/comfort, puns, so many puns, crying, non-graphic violence, headache, sensory overload, panic

This is based off a prompt ask I got sent a long, long awhile ago and just finally finished!

-

Virgil trudged up to his apartment, sweat rolling down his back. Really, it was his fault for wearing a black plaid hoodie and ripped black jeans. Wearing black in the sweltering heat of the summer sun’s gaze was like inviting death upon you. But he looked good in black and was willing to suffer. Besides, Virgil was quite sure his soul was dead already.

Eventually he made it to his apartment, blessed air conditioning hitting his face at last.

“How was your day, kiddo?” His roommate and best friend Patton asked. He was in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl.

Virgil groaned loudly, collapsing into the couch cushions.

Patton whistled, “That bad, huh?”

“I’m going to fight the sun. Either that or move to Seattle, whatever’s easiest.” 

He groaned again, shoving his head into a couch pillow. His head hurt and he was so damn thirsty. Thirsty for water, please get your mind out of the gutter. He was terrible at remembering to drink enough water, something his coworker Logan constantly berated him about. Did he work with Lo today? God, he couldn’t remember. The entire day felt like a blur.

“Aw, I’m sorry you had a rough day. Maybe I can brighten it up with some pat-cakes?”

“Pat-cakes?” 

“Like it’s like pancakes, except with my name--pat-cakes!”

Virgil groaned, this time attempting to keep himself from laughing.

“Stop trying to cheer me up, it’s illegal.”

“Oh? I guess I’m a warmhearted crook then!”

“Warmhearted?”

“Yeah, because instead of a coldhearted crook, I got a lotta love and I’m not afraid to give it.”

Virgil snorted, gazing up from his pillow. Patton stood there, grinning in his grey cat-onesie. The sight was enough to warm his cold, barely beating heart, dammit.

“Well consider yourself under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Stealing my heart.”

“Oh my goodness, you made a pun!” Patton’s blinding white grin was worth it for allowing such a cliche, cheesy pun escape his lips.

“Yeah, well, don’t count on it being a regular thing,” Virgil said, turning away in a poor attempt to hide his burning, surely reddening cheeks, “that was my allotted pun for the year.”

“Auugust I’ll have to try to get another pun out of you before the year’s over.”

“August?”

“Y’know Auuu-guust, like ‘I guess?’”

“Pat, I love you but that one was terrible.”

“Oh, tearable! Like paper?! Or tearable like tears?”

“Patton, no, that wasn’t a pun.”

The banter continued as Patton finally started to pour pancake batter onto the grill. In typical Patton fashion, he created animal shapes  and stick figures out of the pancakes, rather than keeping with normal, round ones.

It helped distract Virgil from both his headache and his rather unmemorable day. Everyone deserved a Patton in their life. Someone who brightened your day with their mere presence. Virgil set the table for their pancakes-for-dinner feast as he pondered this.

He then found their largest water container (a blender) and filled it up to the brim with water. Was he going to regret this sometime in the middle of the night? Yes. Did he care? Not really, no.

He didn’t even know why his throat felt so parched. The last couple weeks of work had been ridiculously slow. It wasn’t like he had to deal conversing with a horde of customers, thank God. He took a gulp, then another and another.

“Wow, I sea you were thirsty!” 

He lifted the blender away from his mouth to respond, before pausing. He blinked, staring at the now-empty blender. Huh.

“Um yeah. Really thirsty.” He chuckled, setting the blender beside the sink.

“Good thing you quenched it then.” Patton said, looking at Virgil weirdly.

He didn’t blame him. Virgil would too look at someone weird if they chugged a 40 ounce blender like it was nothing. He licked his lips, his mouth still feeling as dry as ever. 

A part of him wanted to grab the blender, refill and down it, desperate to douse the itching, stinging feeling that clenched his throat. But he refrained, sitting down at the kitchen table instead. It was probably possible to die from drinking too much water, right?

“Here you go!” Patton said, shaking him of his thoughts. He placed a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil. There were several blobby pancakes with two triangles pointing out at the top, what Virgil presumed to be either a cat or dog.

“Thanks Pat,” He said, “So, uh, how was your day?”

“Oh, it was Pet-tastic!” Patton perked up, “I got to pet a dog today!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I was on the subway when a person came in with the cutest--”

Virgil tried to focus on the words coming out of Patton’s mouth. He really did even as his head throbbed, headache worsening. Patton’s voice, the humming of the refrigerator, the dishwater noises, everything was suddenly too loud. He fidgeted, the fluorescent light beating down on him. He took a bite, hoping it would help. He hadn’t eaten since morning, of course he felt like shit. He just needed substance. Once he ate something, things would be okay.

Except he spat it out, coughing. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be Patton’s pancakes. He always made them to a fluffy, sweet perfection. Yet Virgil’s stomach threatened to heave up its contents at the mere taste.

“Virgil?”

He jerked his head towards Patton, wincing from the whiplash. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m never okay.” is the retort Virgil wanted to throw back. Deflecting and self-deprecation was Virgil’s main attributes. Patton would’ve gasped at him, telling him he’d physically fight him for talking bad about himself. Except those words didn’t make it out of Virgil’s throat.

“I’m--I’m sorry, I just--think I need to go--bedroom.” 

He hated it. He ruined a perfectly good dinner all because his brain decided to freak out over things that didn’t bother normal people. 

“Hey, Virge. It’s okay, I’m not upset,” Patton said softly, “we can hang out more tomorrow. Movie night, remember?”

“Y-yeah.” Virgil said, rising from his chair. Vertigo crashed into him, almost sending him to the ground if not for a pair of arms catching him.

“I’ve got you.” Patton said, adjusting his hold so that Virgil stood, heavily leaning against him.

“T-thanks.”

“Let me help you to your room, okay? Wouldn’t want you falling for me again.”

Virgil let a small, breathless snort. He wanted to protest, but his legs felt too much like jello that he didn’t trust them. Patton guided him down the hallway, to Virgil’s dark cave of a bedroom. He let out a hiss when Patton flipped the light switch.

“Opps, sorry kiddo.” Patton apologized, shutting it off. They stumbled into the room, until they reached Virgil’s bed. Patton hoisted him onto the bed, fussing with his covers until Virgil was nice and tucked in. 

“I’ll save you some pancakes.” Patton said as he closed the door. Virgil didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, the quiet darkness quelling his swelling anxiety. Fatigue finally claimed his bones and he fell unwillingly into slumber.

It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. It was one of those dreams you woke up more exhausted than rested. The thirst followed him into the dream. It gnawed at him, nearly indistinguishable from hunger. He had to satisfy it, relinquish the control it held over him. He went out to search for something to make the burning ache go away. 

He went--well, he wasn’t sure he went. Everything turned hazy, as dreams often tended to be. The next thing he knew, he was standing over someone. No, not a person, they were just a pulse of red to him. They had it, the thing he needed and they weren’t giving it willingly. Something tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the ground as he flailed, desperate to escape its’ grip--

He shot up, gasping. Panic pumped through his veins. This wasn’t his bedroom, where was he? He frantically scanned the dark murky surroundings, relaxing slightly when he recognized it as his apartment living room. Still, what was he doing here and not his bedroom?

“You’re awake.”

Virgil jumped, vaguely making out Patton in the armchair beside the couch. He wasn’t in his cat onesie anymore. Oddly enough, he seemed dressed not in pajamas but in a polo shirt and blue jeans.

“Y-yeah, finally. I had a really weird nightmare.” Virgil said, surprised to find the action of speaking no longer painful. In fact, his throat felt fine even. Maybe the blender water’s effect was delayed.

Patton sighed, moving to sit on the couch next to Virgil. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he clasped his hands together, fingers twisting in a fretful manner. It alarmed Virgil. Patton was always babbling about something, jumping from one topic to the next seamlessly. Virgil didn’t know how he never ran out of things to say.

“Virgil, there’s something you should know,” He hesitated, “I was planning on telling you eventually. I just didn’t think…”

“What is it?” Virgil asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I’m a vampire.”

Virgil gaped at him. Out of all the things to come out of Patton’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that.  Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. A way to placate Virgil. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.” Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced. 

Virgil laughed, except it came out wrong. All high-pitched and strained.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

“I’m not joking. Promise.” Patton insisted, grasping Virgil’s hands with his own.

Virgil swallowed, staring down at Patton’s pale hands. Come to think of it, Patton always shied away from doing outdoor activities, especially in the blazing hot summer heat.

“I’m Irish! I burn easily.” Patton once said, laughing.

Patton wasn’t laughing now. He looked abnormally serious, his lips pressed together in a neutral line. It was starting to freak Virgil out even more, to be honest.

“Vampires aren’t real, they’re just fictional,” Virgil said, as if he didn’t spend his time watching conspiracy theory videos at 4AM and wholeheartedly believing them on a daily basis.

Besides, Patton was too sweet, too kind and bubbly to be a vampire. They were gruesome creatures of the night, they feed on blood and had little room for morals. Unless, Virgil’s breathed hitched, unless Patton had been faking everything, what if their entire friendship was just a whole facade in order for him to get close enough to suck his blood?!

“Virgil, breathe,” Patton said, squeezing his hands.

He squeezed back, inhaling a deep shuddering breath.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for, remember?” Patton said, referring to a past conversation they had regarding Virgil’s anxiety.

“Patton, I just…” Virgil bit his lips, instantly regretting it. He must’ve bit down harder than usual because it hurt, “having a hard time not thinking this is a dream.”

“I can show you,” Patton said, “Is it okay if I turn on the lamp light?”

Virgil nodded and with his consent, Patton reached over to the end table and turned the lamp on. A soft glow flooded the room. Virgil closed his eyes regardless, black dots overwhelming his vision. 

“You okay?”

“Just gimme a moment.” Virgil gritted his teeth, wincing again when the action hurt him. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I’ll only keep it on for as long as necessary,” Patton reassured.

“Alright,” He nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. It burned like someone had been chopping garlic, but that was ridiculous, right?

Patton drew a breath in, opening his mouth wide. Virgil watched in horror as two sharp incisors intruded from his gumline. Even if Patton wasn’t one for cruel, practical pranks, there was no way it was a pair of cheap plastic fangs. They looked too real, too grotesque to be fake.

“What the fuck!” Virgil fell off the couch, tripping in his haste to flee. He plunged to the floor, his head banging against the corner of the coffee-table.

A dull pain blossomed around the crown of his head but he stood up anyways. He had to get away, flee from this twisted nightmare he found himself in. This couldn’t be real. Perhaps he thought he woke up only to be thrust into an even worst nightmare than before.

“Virgil, Virgil, please calm down!” Patton appeared at his side within a blink, placing his hands on Virgil’s shoulders. 

He tried jerking out of Patton’s grip, glancing wildly for some sort of escape. Belatedly he realized though the lamp light had been turned off, he could still perfectly see his surroundings. What the hell? He looked back at Patton, taking in the worried wrinkles and his normal set of teeth. No fangs. Where were they? He knew he saw them, he couldn’t have imagined them--

“P-please dont hurt me,” He whimpered, digging his head into Patton’s chest. He didn’t know why he did that. He should kept thrashing, escaping the grip of a supposed vampire. But Patton was also his friend, who cheered him up with stupid cheesy puns. The one and only person Virgil trusted and sought comfort from.

Patton drew his arms around Virgil, pulling him closer. He froze, waiting for sharp fangs to pierce his neck. Instead a hand carded through his hair, soft and gentle.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Patton said, his voice tight with emotion, “I’m going to hurt those that did however.”

Virgil craned his neck to look up at him, “W-what do you mean?”

Patton didn’t say anything at first, continuing to caress Virgil’s hair.

“Virgil, how was your day?”

“What?”

“Your day, before you--” Patton hesitated, “before you fell asleep, what happened?”

“I overslept my alarm,” Virgil recalled, “I was in a rush to get to work, and I....”

He bit his lips, a soft curse slipping out from both the pain it produced and the fact he couldn’t remember. He must’ve went to work, right? Work has been so slow and tedious that he just forgot what happened. He must’ve said some of that out loud because Patton slowly shook his head.

“Virgil, I contacted your workplace. You never showed up to work.”

“Wha-but I wouldn’t--I mean--” Virgil jolted, making direct eye contact with Patton, “I’m a vampire now, aren’t I?”

 He couldn’t believe he said that out loud just now. It was absurd, it didn’t make any sense! But...it did make sense in a maddening, down-the-rabbit-hole way. His unquenchable thirst, his unusually sensitive eyes, food tasting weird, that absurd, horrific nightmare that was starting to feel more and more like it wasn’t a nightmare. Had he really almost killed a person to drink their blood? He felt lightheaded, his world spinning wildly out of control as he clung to Patton for balance.

“I got you kiddo,” Patton whispered, leading him to sit on the couch, “do you need a glass of water?”

He was deflecting, maybe in a poor attempt to spare Virgil from the cold, harsh reality.

“Patton,” Virgil hissed, “I need to know.”

Patton averted his gaze, his hands curled into fists by his side.

“Yes.”

Virgil’s heart stopped beating. Wait a minute, didn’t vampires’ hearts already didn’t beat because they were undead? Did that mean Virgil was technically dead?!

He frantically checked his own pulse, relieved yet spooked hear it. Albeit, much more slow and lethargic than before.

“Our heart beats at a slower rate than humans,” Patton laughs weakly, “A lot of the myths around vampires don’t have any truth to them.”

“Pat,” Virgil’s voice trembled, “This is crazy, I mean--you’re a vampire and I’m one?! Did you--”

“No!” Patton insisted, his eyes flashing a brief red, “Virgil I promise you, I’d never do that. It can be really, really painful--the whole turning process. It can be so traumatic that well, I--I don’t even fully remember my own. Many don’t survive let alone live pass it. I’ve never wanted you to know what it’s like to--”

Patton cut himself off, jerking his head away. Virgil took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Know what?” He pressed. Patton’s lips quivered, tears glistening in his eyes, as he cupped Virgil’s cheek with his free hand. Virgil leaned down, gently touching his forehead with Patton’s.

“Pat, please.”

“You deserved a normal human life,” Patton said at last, a strangled noise escaping him, “Where you got to live and grow old and die. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be a monster like me.”

Patton broke away, clasping a hand to his mouth as the tears finally fell down his face. Virgil watched, his head throbbing as conflicting emotions raged war inside. Denial, rage, sadness--he pushed them all aside. Patton. He needed to focus on Patton. 

Despite everything, he still knew one thing; Patton Patterson was the furthest thing from a monster. Virgil refused to believe anything otherwise. He needed that one thing to remain true or else he’d fall apart completely.

“Patton you’re not a monster, you’re--you’re,” Virgil took a breath, steadying himself, “you’re my best friend.”

Patton let out a bark of laughter, “If--if you knew the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Yes, I--I would,” Virgil swallowed, kneeling down beside him, “Pat, you are the kindest person I've ever met. You cry at cheesy Hallmark movies that end in happy endings. You volunteer at the local animal shelter and soup kitchen. You believe the best in people, even if they’re a shitty anxious nobody who doesn’t deserve it--”

“Virgil--” Patton choked.

“And--and unless that was all one elaborate ruse to fool the world, to fool me,” Virgil pressed on, “vampire or not, your presence makes my day bat-ter.”

“Bat-ter? L-like bat?”

“Yeah, well, congratulations you managed to get a pun outta me before the year’s end.”

Patton stared at him, mouth hanging open. He then laughed again, this time surging forward to tackle Virgil in a hug. Virgil yelped, falling to the floor hard enough to see black dots. Still, he clung to Patton as if afraid of never getting the opportunity again. Virgil let out a high-pitched keen, no longer being able to contain his anguish. Patton responded with a despairing wail of his own. 

Tears poured down both of their faces as their sobbing duet continued. For a long, long while it was the only noise produced from either of them. Until it tapered off into weak whimpers and then it was just the sound of two slow, steady sets of heartbeats close together.

“Pat?” Virgil croaked, utterly exhausted from the ordeal. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, safe and secure in Patton’s arms. A small part of him yearned to wake up in his bed and learn that all of this was a nightmare and nothing more. Yet the pain from unconsciously biting his lip with his newly sharpened incisors said otherwise.

“Yes?” Patton answered, his hand brushing through Virgil’s hair once more. He was so soft and gentle that it was hard for Virgil to ever imagine him the same species as Count Dracula.

“If--if you didn’t, um, turn me, then wh-who-how--why don’t I remember--why would--” Virgil let out a frustrated huff.

“Virgil, I...I don’t know who did it or why. There’s lots of reasons why another vampire would do it,” Patton said, dropping to a low growl, “and none of them are good ones.”

“Oh,” Virgil swallowed, “and that person? I went after a person, didn’t I? That was real, right? Did--did I hurt them? I swear I didn’t mean to, I--I--”

“Virge, deep breathes,” Patton said, “They’re okay, you didn’t hurt them. They were fanged out but okay. And then I brought you back here and gave you some of my blood supply.”

“I--I don’t remember that.” Virgil said, “I remember attacking them and something...stopped me? That was you right? But I don’t--I don’t remember--”

Virgil’s voice trailed off, the words once more getting tangled up in his throat. He was afraid. Virgil was always afraid but this was new. Vampires were real and he was one of them. He was an immortal, bloodsucking creature of the night. As much as it sounded cool on paper, it was utterly terrifying. Especially to know he had no memory of becoming one. 

As if sensing his distressed thoughts, Patton brushed his bangs aside to kiss his forehead.

“Shh, it’s common for young vampires to black out from blood rage. It’s--well, it’s not okay what happened to you, Virgil. I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there to stop it from happening. But I swear to you it’s going to be okay and that I’m here now to help.”

“Promise?” Virgil asked, yawning.

“Of course. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a stake in my heart.”

And while Patton’s words didn’t immediately quell his fears, he fell asleep knowing Patton would be there for him, like he always was.

[artificialqueens]

Off Limits, Chapter 2 (Bitney) - Veronica/Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.) ALSO: Thank you so much to our beta reader slash Australian slang consultant, Ms. @opalescent-cheetah

Chapter Summary: Bianca and Courtney continue to get to know each other: an endeavor that involves quite a bit of teasing.

SLAM!

The jarring sound startled Bianca out of what was pretty sure had been a very pleasant dream, making her whole body jolt upright. Was that their door? Why was anyone even awake at this hour? She pressed a palm against her left eye, where a dull headache seemed to be forming.

She wasn’t sure why. They hadn’t had that much to drink last night--only a few glasses of wine while telling each other some random stories about their families growing up. They seemed a bit scandalized to learn that even though she was a junior like them, she was 23 years old. She was unsurprised to learn that Willam’s parents owned a bar. And equally unsurprised to learn about Courtney’s family house in Brisbane, a solar-powered bungalow with overflowing vegetable gardens.

But who would be up at...Bianca looked at her phone. 6 am. Jesus.

Alaska still burrowed under a mound of covers--that awful duvet, plus a fuzzy, muppet-like electric blue blanket and a rainbow knitted monstrosity that looked like it had been made by a team of emotionally disturbed fairies. She hadn’t moved an inch at the sound. Heavy sleeper, apparently.

Must be nice.

Bianca threw off her covers bitterly to go investigate the noise, perhaps yell at whoever dared to disturb her at this ungodly hour. Despite having been intent on reading said person for filth, the moment she found Courtney curled on the couch in her fleece blanket, blowing softly on a steaming mug, Bianca felt the majority of her annoyance suddenly disappearing. Still, she was determined to set a precedent.

“Bitch, was that you that slammed the fucking door?” she asked, though her voice lacked any of the sharpness she originally intended.

An apologetic smile was shot her way and right through her heart as Courtney shook her head and explained, “No, soz. That was Bill. She’s on her way to the gym.”

“At 6 AM?” Bianca exclaimed in exasperation, “Jesus fuck, does she hate herself? There’s easier ways to go about making yourself miserable, let me tell you.”

The laughter that emanated from Courtney at the statement was enough for any remaining trace of irritation to completely dissipate from Bianca’s body. Part of her marveled at how Courtney always managed to have a smile on her face. It was as though very little could be done to truly phase her.

“I’ll talk to her,” Courtney promised sweetly, “She always heads to the gym around this time but maybe I can convince her to shut the door more quietly, okay?”

There was a natural charm in the smile on Courtney’s lips, one that assured you that if she said something, she meant it. And with that reassurance, Bianca muttered a word of thanks and continued on towards the bathroom.

When she emerged, she found Courtney waiting for her with yet another smile and a steaming mug of coffee.

“The sugar is in-”

“I take it black,” Bianca said, following her back into the livingroom and settling on the sofa.

“Hard core,” Courtney laughed.

They sat side by side, not really talking much but instead just enjoying the morning in each other’s company as some program played on the screen. Bianca was almost tempted to ask what it was but ultimately found she didn’t really care about the answer. She was too content at the moment to interrupt the peace and relative quiet of their living room.

Once Courtney finished her coffee, she started to slide a bit closer to Bianca, inching over a little at a time and finally claiming her shoulder as a makeshift pillow. Bianca tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered as she wrapped an arm around Courtney’s sleepy form. How nice it felt to have a warm, soft body pressed up against her. How her hair smelled like honeysuckle.

Fuck.

Bianca stayed still as long as she could stand it...even drifted off herself a few times. But eventually, once her arm fell asleep and her stomach began to rumble, she regretfully roused Courtney awake, smiling slightly as she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

“Sorry about that,” Courtney said.

“It’s alright. I was just starting to get hungry and I didn’t want to dump you on the floor.”

“Aww, that’s sweet as!” Courtney laughed, jumping to her feet and offering Bianca a hand, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever.

“Sweet as what?”

“Uhh,” Courtney pursed her lips, trying to figure out how to explain. “Just…”

“That’s so Aussie?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Courtney laughed.

***

Once in the kitchen, Courtney began to pull an assortment of items from the fridge...bananas, apples, dates, spinach, a carrot, frozen blueberries, a can of coconut milk, an avocado. She could see Bianca eying the combination with great suspicion.

“What the fuck are you planning to make?” Bianca asked, touching her lightly on the arm.

A hot flush crept into her cheeks as she said, “Smoothie. Want some?”

“Pass, dollface,” Bianca said, grimacing.

“Suit yourself,” Courtney shot back in sing-songy voice, pulling the blender out of the cabinet and beginning to toss in the ingredients, “But what are you gonna eat?”

Bianca’s brow arched and a devilish smirk spread across her lips. She let her eyes roam slowly and meaningfully over Courtney’s body before settling back on her face with an expression that seemed to dare Courtney to say something. All Courtney could think about was that comment from the day before, about how she’d never been eaten out by someone who knows what they’re doing. A fair statement--and it certainly piqued Courtney’s curiosity. But she wasn’t about to give Bianca the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Uh-uh,” Courtney rebuffed as she struggled to contain a nervous laugh. Her cheeks were certainly blazing under Bianca’s hungry gaze but she was determined to stand her ground. “Not on the menu.”

Far from being discouraged, Bianca just gave her a little wink as she pushed herself away from the counter’s ledge and replied in mock disappointment, “Shame. Eggs it is then.”

She sauntered back towards the fridge but as she opened it, Courtney decided to keep the joke going, adding, “Well, it's not on the menu today...but…” she trailed off, chuckling a little, but when she saw the glint in Bianca’s eye, she breathed in sharply, pressing her lips together.

“Yeah?” Bianca leaned in close again, trapping her against the counter. “Gonna be running a special sometime? Might just take you up on that, you know.”

Courtney had no response; there was precious little going through her head other than how close Bianca was to her. How close their lips were to one another’s.

Part of her was fighting against the temptation to lean in, ever so slightly, to see what Bianca would do. Deep down she knew Bianca was only trying to get a rise out of her (and it was working) and she longed to call her bluff. To say something smart and sassy just to impress her, even a little. But here she was, mouth agape and unable to vocalize any sort of coherent thought.

Taking pity on her shell-shocked roommate, Bianca immediately backed off and cackled, “Oh, my god! Relax! I’m just joking, Court.”

She was still chuckling even as she retreated back to the fridge but for Courtney it felt like her presence had never really left. She could feel the heat of Bianca’s body as it had nearly touched hers, skin tingling with the memory of feeling her so close.

“Sorry...I’m kind of a shameless flirt,” Bianca said, pulling out a carton of eggs. “It’s one of my best and worst qualities.”

“Me too,” Courtney said, letting out a relieved exhale. So, there. Bianca was in fact just playing around. That’s what she’d assumed, and it was good to be right. Right?

“Yeah, so...it doesn’t really mean anything. But I’m sure you know that-”

“Of course.”

“But you should tell me if I go too far,” Bianca said gently, brown eyes soft and warm.

“Same,” Courtney replied, hoping that her cheeks were less red than they felt. That Bianca believed the truth: that this was just fun and games, nothing more.

After another dimpled grin, Courtney was finally able to pull herself fully together with a strong mental note to never let herself become that overwhelmed by Bianca again.

If Bianca wanted to play...well, she’d play right along, too.

***

Twenty minutes later, with a fresh batch of coffee and breakfast nearly ready, Alaska had finally stumbled out of bed to join Bianca and Courtney in the kitchen. As the eggs sizzled away in the frying pan, Bianca had set Courtney to work on buttering some toast for the both of them (it had been a slight challenge given their lack of toaster, but Bianca managed to use the oven broiler).  

Alaska’s bedhead made quite a sight as she sleepily wandered into the kitchen, still looking only half awake.

Courtney was the first to greet their disheveled roommate with a warm smile, inquiring, “Good morning! Are you feeling any better?”

After Alaska’s polite nod, Courtney’s quickly followed up by offering up some of her breakfast smoothie, chock full of nutrients to help shoo away any remaining trace of illness she might have had.

“No one wants your gross smoothie!” Bianca exclaimed, adding, “Beware, Alaska. I saw her put dates in that thing.”

“Shut up!” Courtney laughed out, a hand on her hip. “Dates make it sweet.”

Rolling her own eyes, Bianca was quick to fire back, “You know what else would make it sweet? Sugar.”

Cocking her head to the side, Courtney cooed out, “Yes, cupcake?”

Their banter was interrupted when Alaska piped in to ask about the coffee she’d smelled. Gesturing to the French press, Bianca encouraged her to help herself.

Bianca poked at the eggs, satisfied. Before she served them up, she looked at Alaska and asked if she wanted any.

“No, thanks,” she answered politely.

Bianca nodded, dividing them in between the two waiting plates and making a mental note to find out what Alaska liked to eat. She knew it was probably silly and mom-like, but she would have felt a lot better if she’d had something to offer Alaska in the way of comfort food. She resisted the urge to pressure her to eat something, silencing her own mother’s voice and sitting down with the plates.

Courtney took her plate, offering some of the toast from the large stack in exchange. And licking the butter knife clean with a saucy glint in her eye.

Shaking her head, Bianca chuckled and said, “That’s disgusting.”

Courtney simply shrugged and giggled along with her, saying, “I like to lick things.”

Bianca pressed her lips together. That one was too easy, and she was determined not to take the bait.

“Where’s Willam?” Alaska wondered aloud, giving Bianca a welcome change of topics. “Still asleep?”

Before Bianca could even make a crack about Alaska sleeping through the racket that was Willam leaving at 6 AM this morning, Courtney chimed in with a casual, upbeat, “No, she’s at the gym! Gotta keep it tight as for her clients.”

That one particular word immediately captured the attention of both Bianca and Alaska and almost instantly their heads snapped back to Courtney for more information. Alaska’s eyes were wide as saucers and Bianca knew that her own expression must be similar.

Courtney seemed to instantly regret the choice of words, sputtering, “Uh...I mean...”

“...Clients?” Bianca found herself asking with nothing but suspicion and judgment dripping from the word.

“Well…”

“Courtney. Are we sharing an apartment with a hooker?!” Bianca asked, pointing a fork at her for emphasis.

“No!” Courtney cried out empathically, “No, not a hooker. She’s like…”

Alaska seemed to be leaning off the edge of her seat as she inquired rather eagerly, “Yeah?”

“I’m not sure I should say,” Courtney reasoned, half muttering to herself, “I mean, it’s not like a secret, but I just don’t feel like it’s my place to-“

“Well too late, bitch.” Bianca cut in as she leaned in even more, arguing, “You brought it up. Now you have to tell us.”

Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling for a moment, Courtney huffed out, “It’s not a big deal! She just like...video chats with guys and they buy her stuff.”

Bianca relaxed a bit, gears turning in her head as she clarified, “She’s a cam girl?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Bianca felt like she was deflating. The self-righteous anger churning in her chest subsided and she shrugged. As long as no “clients” would be brought back to the apartment, Bianca didn’t really care what Willam did. Although, hopefully she wouldn’t have to hear anything. Ew.

***

Courtney loved Cielo Plaza, the open-air shopping center with adorable Spanish-style buildings covered in murals and bougainvillea. The courtyard was full of beautiful plants and tiled fountains, almost like another world. When they first arrived, she saw Bianca looking around with a bit of a puzzled expression. She grinned, knowing that this wasn’t what most people expected when you said “mall.”

“Not what you pictured?” Courtney asked, bumping her hip gently.

“No, I guess not,” Bianca said, following her and Willam, who was striding confidently towards her favorite clothing stores.

Courtney’s eyes lit up as she caught sight of See’s Candies, tugging on Willam’s arm to get her to slow down. She could never resist See’s and their deeply generous sample policy.

“Bill, come on, let’s go get samples!”

Despite Willam’s heels dragging (and firmly ignoring the set of rolling eyes), Courtney was determined to get her a sample. Even if she didn’t eat it, Courtney would be sure it wouldn’t go to waste. She was almost licking her lips in anticipation of what she might get when she heard Alaska piping up with a soft sigh in her voice, “My ex-girlfriend was obsessed with that place. She never shut up about it.”

At once Courtney’s feet stilled and she rounded to look back at Alaska.

And she wasn’t the only one; Willam’s head rose after hearing the unexpected information and even Bianca had shifted her gaze from a distant boutique in order to study the girl next to her. At first, it seemed like Alaska had something more to add on but upon finding everyone’s attention solely focused on her, she immediately shut herself up, a light flush coloring her cheeks.

She looked a tad...panicky. As if she weren’t sure what to expect from sharing this information.

But Courtney knew better, a grin spreading across her face, gushing happily, “Don’t worry, Bianca’s gay too! And Willam’s bi!”

She certainly would have said more had she not chanced to catch sight of Bianca shooting her a look of mild irritation.

Oh.

Perhaps that wasn’t something that needed to be shared so loudly...or publicly, now that she thought about it. Her stomach began to drop as her cheeks darkened to mirror the same shade that was present on Alaska’s.

Shaking her head, Willam grumbled, “Foot in Mouth Disease strikes again...Anything else you want to share with the other mallgoers, Court? Maybe inform them of my ass waxing schedule?”

“You wanna call my grandma, come out for me?” Bianca questioned as nothing but snark penetrated her voice. Her eyes rolled as she placed a hand on her hip and added in, “I don’t think she knows yet.”

Falling over her words as her eyes darted from one woman to the next, Courtney struggled to explain herself, “I thought…I mean, yesterday you said that you-I just thought it would be better if she knew...shit...”

She thought her stomach couldn’t be twisted any tighter until she finally saw a crack in their hardass façade. Bianca was the first to break completely, slipping an arm around Courtney’s shoulders.

“She already knew, dollface. She’s seen us at the meetings,” Bianca assured her.

A little wink might’ve been thrown her way but nothing could distract her from the utter relief she felt washing over her. Though Bianca was at least attempting to keep composure, it was hard to miss Willam’s trademark laugh echoing in the background. Even Alaska seemed to be more than a bit amused by the situation.

Almost involuntarily, Courtney found herself crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as she attempted to will away the furious blush on her cheeks. Even with the slight mortification she felt, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning further into the warmth of the body pressed against her. But still, she was determined to save some face and let out a sarcastic muttering of, “Ha ha.”

“Well, I’d invite you,” Bianca purred next to her ear, “but I’m not sure you’re ready for the initiation ceremony…”

The arm draped across her shoulders slipped even lower until Bianca’s hand was nestled firmly into the small of her back. It was all Courtney could do to suppress a shiver as Bianca’s nails grazed across the strip of bare skin above her shorts. Having enough of the teasing, at least for now, Courtney turned on her heel and strode off in the direction of the candy shop for a self-indulgent treat.

Bianca followed closely behind, smirk ever-present on her face, even as Willam called after her, “And your grandma totally knows, by the way.”

Barely suppressing a laugh, she turned back around and flipped off her roommate before inquiring one final time, “You guys coming in?”

She left the door hanging open as a welcome invitation but Alaska was still reluctant to follow the pair into the shop. She mumbled a polite refusal, one prompting Willam to stay outside and join her, and with a carefree shrug, Bianca replied airily, “Suit yourself,” and let the door close shut behind her.

***

Once inside, she saw Courtney immediately, standing in line and fawning over a large glass display case filled with chocolates and truffles of every kind.

“Okay,” Courtney said, down to business the second Bianca approached. “We’re each gonna get a sample, and then I think we should each buy two or three more...and then we can try a whole bunch. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a lot of fucking chocolate at…” Bianca glanced at her phone, “eleven-thirty in the morning.”

“Almost lunchtime!” Courtney insisted. “Besides...life is short.”

“Fine, fine.” Bianca sighed. “Pick whatever you want, dollface. It’s on me.”

Courtney squealed happily, turning back to the case, nose practically pressed against the glass. Bianca chuckled to herself. Courtney took her time selecting her favorites, almost all dark, proudly handing Bianca one of the samples while the clerk rang them up.

“That’s my absolute favorite. Dark chocolate raspberry cream,” she said.

Bianca took the candy, taking a small bite. It was pretty damn good. She looked up at Courtney’s big eyes, which momentarily looked like a toddler watching their mommy leave for work, and couldn’t help laughing.

“You want the other half, baby?” she asked indulgently.

Feigning uncertainty, Courtney inquired, “You don’t want it?” but Bianca was having none of that and swiftly held out the half-eaten treat towards her roommate.

“Take it,” she insisted.

A flash of a happy smile stretched across Courtney’s face before her lips wrapped around the candy and Bianca’s fingers. Bianca couldn’t help gasping softly as Courtney’s eyes darted up to hers, lips curled into as much of a smirk as could be managed. She gave a quick lick around Bianca’s fingers as she snatched away the rest of the candy.

A burst of laughter erupted from Bianca’s chest as she immediately reached over to wipe off the remaining saliva across Courtney’s cheek. “Fucking whore,” she accused her roommate.

“I told you I’m a licker,” she commented as she turned to take her own sample from the counter.

“Gonna share?” Bianca asked.

Courtney looked back to her in consideration, cocked her head to the side, then calmly popped the entire candy into her mouth as she replied with a simple, “Nope.”

“Fucking greedy whore.”

Bianca’s comment earned a snorting laugh from her roommate as she nearly doubled over to keep herself from spitting out the candy. As she tried to keep control of her giggling, she offered with her mouth still full, “Can give you a taste, though.”

“Right,” Bianca countered with a chuckle of her own, “Nothing as sexy as masticated food.”

With that Courtney flashed her a wide toothy smile complete with chocolate truffle spread across her teeth. It made for quite a sight, Bianca had to admit.

After paying for the rest of the candy, Bianca handed the small box to Courtney, watching with amusement as she dug in immediately.

“I think this one is cafe au lait,” she said, taking a large bite. “Yup. Amazing. Wanna taste?” She offered Bianca the rest, what amounted to about one-tenth of the truffle.

“So generous,” Bianca said, taking the tiny piece as Courtney moved onto the next, and the next.

“You’re gonna be sick,” she said, but Courtney shrugged.

“I have low blood sugar.”

“And I suppose we’re not taking any back for Will and Alaska?”

“Well…” Courtney paused thoughtfully, fingers hovering over the last two pieces. “They could have come in.”

Bianca laughed. Her behavior with the chocolates was the first sign of selfishness that she’d seen Courtney display. And it was, of course, fucking adorable.

In spite of eating what seemed to be a third of her weight in candy, the first thing Courtney questioned upon meeting up with the other women outside were their plans for lunch, suggesting a bakery at the other end of the mall.

“You’re still hungry? You just ate 3 pounds of chocolate,” Bianca chuckled.

A trace of a pout appeared on Courtney’s lips as she prepared to argue with Bianca, but her response was cut short by Willam waving them off with a curt, “You go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

Courtney cocked her head to the side, concerned, and questioned her in a motherly tone, “Are you okay? Are you sick again? Do you want to go home?”

She might have probed even further but Willam was quick to step in with a defensive, “She’s fine.” Then added in a further, rather rushed, explanation of, “She’s just telling me about a recurring fantasy she’s having...of strangling you in your sleep.”

Snorting out a loud laugh, Bianca found herself piling on, “Who hasn’t had that one!”

“I know, very relatable,” Willam replied with a smirk firmly set on her lips as Courtney blew a raspberry in her direction.

“Fuck you all, cunts!” she announced before grabbing Bianca’s wrist and dragging her off in a fit of righteous indignation.

Her pace soon slowed down, but only after Bianca’s chuckling had finally subsided. Strange though, Bianca noticed, Courtney still hadn’t let go of her hand. In fact, if anything, she had adjusted her positioning in order to be more comfortable. The only thing missing was their fingers laced.

But as she pondered whether or not read anything into it, a shop front caught her eye further up the walkway. She immediately diverted her course towards the store in question with Courtney following closely. She didn’t seem to consider letting go of Bianca’s hand, simply gripping her tighter.

***

“What do you need in here?” Courtney asked, heart skipping a few beats at Bianca pulled her inside the lingerie store.

“Saw something for you, hold on.”

Curious, Courtney allowed her to guide the way, feeling a twinge of excitement growing in her chest. Quickly, it fell flat as Bianca pointed up rather proudly at a mannequin displaying a hot pink babydoll nightie trimmed in matching lace.

“I thought the pink suited you,” Bianca defended herself, though the hidden laughter in her voice did little to convince Courtney of her sincerity.

A brow shot up at the statement and Courtney cast a quick glance towards the rest of the mannequins, finding the perfect one on the very end of the display--a sheer, bright red, lace teddy.

Pointing it out, she commented cheekily, “Actually, this is more my style.”

“Mmm,” Bianca mused to herself as she pretended to study the garment. She took in every little detail inch by inch, then turned back to state in all seriousness, “I don’t think you have the tits to fill that out. Sorry.”

“Cunt!” Courtney laughed out as she leaned into her roommate for support.

But Bianca’s fun was far from over.

Tugging Courtney further inside, she assured her, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something to cover those tiny, little A-cups...somewhere.”

“I’m a B cup!” Courtney cried indignantly, adding, “Most of the time.”

Bianca chuckled, guiding her towards a table full of elaborately embroidered bralettes.

For almost 15 minutes, the pair darted from one section to the next, pointing out the skimpiest or sexiest bits of lingerie that they could find (and of course suggesting that the other person model them). Courtney was having so much fun that she didn’t even mind the salesgirls eyeing them suspiciously. Finally, Courtney found her coup de grace in the form of some very revealing, forest-green panties. The entire piece consisted solely of strategically placed straps and sheer lace, doing nothing in terms of coverage: more the idea of panties than actual underwear.

Courtney held them out triumphantly and silently dared Bianca to find something better than that, confident that she had won. But the smirk on her face was wiped off when Bianca tossed them back into the pile, pulling out a nearly identical pair.

“These are my size,” she taunted as Courtney’s jaw went slightly slack.

And then, she moved to another small pile next to the panties. Quickly finding the right piece, she sauntered up to the front counter with her intended purchases, but not before mentioning with an enviable air of casualness, “Matching bra. Really completes the whole look.”

At this, Courtney’s jaw did drop but Bianca’s back was thankfully already to her. Rushing up to the front counter, Courtney’s eyes remained glued to the matching bra and panty set. Her mind raced, some not so modest thoughts of what the clothing might look like on Bianca’s body flashing through--the rich color would be gorgeous against her skin, that was clear. And the skimpy straps would barely contain her curves…

Her thoughts were cut short when Bianca spun around, bag dangling from her hand, and said, “So...lunch?”

“Oh, um...yeah.” Courtney gulped, leading her out of the store and back down the walkway towards the bakery. Once her hammering heart slowed down a bit, she cast a glance towards Bianca, linking arms with her and saying, “I’m glad you found something you liked in there.”

Bianca grinned back at her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“Yeah, thanks. You’ve got real classy taste.”

Courtney giggled, beginning to accept and even enjoy the permanent blush that seemed to be on her cheeks anytime she was around Bianca.

“Anytime,” Courtney said. “And you know, if you need advice about what to wear in more—”

She was shaken out of her slight daze by the sound of Willam’s voice shouting, “Hey! What the fuck?”

Happily, Courtney waved back to her and quickly finished, “—in more formal settings, like to the office, I’d be happy to help.”

“What makes you think I won’t wear these to the office?”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize your internship was in a brothel.”

“I mean, it is the oldest profession,” Bianca cackled.

As they approached Willam and Alaska, Courtney ignored the irritated tapping of Willam’s foot, the hand on her hip, tossing her a sweet kiss and focusing her attention on Alaska.

“Sorry about that, back there,” Alaska said, and Courtney smiled, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s fine. I hope you’re okay,” she said. Though she wanted to ask more questions, really just to make sure she was alright, Courtney thought it’d be best to wait. She was confident that Alaska would come to her when she felt comfortable. In fact, her mood seemed to have lightened quite a bit since their brief break from one another. She’d bet anything that Willam reached out to Alaska and helped her lift some of the weight off her chest. Though some people might see Willam as selfish or uncaring, Courtney knew the truth. That when it counted, she was sensitive and even loving, loyal to a fault. That there was nobody better to talk to about a broken heart.

Alaska nodded, then asked, “Did you at least have some fun?”

“Yeah,” she replied, smile growing and cheeks beginning to heat up again. She spared a glance at Bianca and said, “B made an...interesting purchase.”

Immediately, a sneaky, devilish little smirk appeared on Bianca’s face and raising a finger to her lips, she seemed to say, ‘Our secret.’

A thrill passed through Courtney’s body at that, a feeling in her abdomen not unlike riding a rollercoaster. She wondered if the others would let things go, or demand to be let in on the joke, and found herself hoping for the former, to allow her this one little secret with Bianca, something just for them.

“I’m sure I don’t even want to know,” Willam said, and Alaska giggled in agreement. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

***

“Are you sure this table meets all of your requirements, your highness?” Bianca scoffed. They’d already passed by at least five others that didn’t meet Willam’s exacting criteria.

Sipping her iced tea, Willam gave a passive shrug of her shoulders and replied back, “I know what I like.”

Bianca shared a long-suffering look with Alaska as she finally took a seat and let herself relax for a moment. Across the table, Courtney let out a contented sigh and mused out loud as she stirred her lemonade, “Don’t days like this just make you happy to be alive?”

Rolling her eyes at the sappy statement, Bianca muttered, “Alright, Miss America.”

Courtney stuck out her tongue at the comment and remarked proudly, “I did actually win a pageant, once.”

Willam groaned at the statement and moved to cut the story short with a tired, “We know, we know, Miss Tater Tot-”

“No, Miss Tiny Tot,” Courtney squeaked out through a burst of giggles that echoed through the courtyard. Turning back to her new roommates, she added in,  “I was 5. I won a car.”

Feeling her face twisting in disbelief, Bianca asked incredulously, “What the fuck is a 5-year-old supposed to do with a car?”

Slightly distracted, Alaska murmured wistfully, “I would love to meet Miss Tater Tot. She sounds delicious.”

“And crispy,” Bianca agreed, giving a slight nod of her head.

Tossing in a carefree wave of her hand, Willam mentioned, “Ehh, I’m off carbs.”

Despite being the butt of the joke yet again, Courtney played it off, resting her delicate chin in her hands, a dreamy smile stretching across her lips.

But before she could say anything, Willam cut her off with a lamenting, “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I know that fucking look,” she accused, “You’re about to get all...sisterhood of the traveling pants on us, aren’t you?”

“No!” Courtney cried out defensively, “I was just gonna say-”

“Something lame and cheesy about best friends forever?” Willam guessed as her eyes narrowed in on Courtney with a silent dare to try and lie and say she was wrong.

Crossing her arms, Courtney shot back, “-that I’m glad we’re all getting to know each other...and I have a really good feeling about this year.” Turning her attention strictly back to Willam, she asked in a lilting, mock-submissive tone, “Was that acceptable, boss?”

“....Barely. You’re on thin ice,” Willam said, stealing Courtney’s drink for a quick sip.

An adorable, good-natured pout began to form on Courtney’s face, but Alaska came to her defense.

“I think it was great, Courtney,” she assured with a sincere smile, raising her drink, “Here’s to the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.”

“More like the Golden Girls,” Bianca remarked dryly.

A squeal quickly emanated from beside her, much to her shock. She had yet to see Alaska get this excited about anything; it seemed that reference struck a chord.

Willam, on the other hand, was less than impressed. “Speak for yourself, you old cunt.”

Bianca gave her the finger as Alaska wriggled excitedly in her seat.

“Omigod,” Alaska exclaimed with an exuberant grin, “I love that show!”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Courtney asked, “What show?”

“Golden Girls!”

Shaking her head, Courtney admitted, “Never heard of it.”

Alaska’s jaw went slack as she stared at Courtney from across the table. Bianca could see the wheels beginning to turn in her head so it came as no surprise when she decided, “Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”

Doubtful of Alaska’s plans, Bianca asked, “Is it even streaming anywhere?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alaska stated with a firm resolution in her voice, “I have all 7 seasons on DVD.”

Bianca could practically see her entire evening being swallowed up right in front of her but she was out of ideas to delay it. Only Willam had one last card to play. With an almost convincing air of disappointment, she pointed out, “We don’t have a DVD player…”

Without missing a beat, Alaska rebutted, “We’re at a mall. It’s happening. Also we need to buy cheesecake.”

The only one who seemed excited about this prospect was Courtney, the little traitor. She easily became swept up in Alaska’s excitement and allowed her mood to soar with the prospect of a movie night. With her hands clasped to her chest in glee, she suggested, “Can we all get in our jammies and make popcorn and have a real slumber party?”

Alaska’s eyes lit up with a joyful spark and pointing her finger at Courtney, she immediately agreed.

Accepting her defeat gracefully, all Bianca could do was mutter, “Dear God,” along with a mental banging of her head on the table.

Sharing a similar sentiment, Willam leaned in towards her and stage-whispered, “It’s not too late to kill them both, you know.”

Bianca instantly cracked up at the statement, and suddenly a girl’s night in watching Golden Girls didn’t seem too awful. If nothing else, she could trade snide comments with Willam and use some of the huge arsenal of hilarious anti-Florida jokes she’d built up over the years.

And then, of course, there was Courtney and her blissed-out little face, as happy as a lark—almost infectiously so.

Maybe...this could be fun after all.

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Bonds

TITLE: Bonds

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki assuming your nephew is your son. He’s not totally wrong, though, since you’ve been the boy’s legal guardian for a couple of years now. Plus, you do play a convincing “mother” role. (more to the imagine in link)

RATING:  M (Swearing, maybe some violence and MAYBE some smut)

NOTES/WARNINGS: I don’t want to give too much away but obviously adoption takes place. Talks of abandonment. Angst. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry for not much Loki again, BUT I am hoping to have more interactions soon!

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: As usual I will try to keep to my 3,000 words per chapter.

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Raelynn helped Travis pack a bag, as she promised John's mother. 

Travis was a bundle of excitement. 

Raelynn a mess of nausea and tangled nerves. 

On the car ride there, she let him talk about how excited he was.

Once pulling into the driveway Raelynn wanted to pull out and go home. 

Swallowing down her fears, she put on a brave face.

All of the children were excited and hurried to hug Travis, stating how surprised they were that he was able to hang out with them. Raelynn made a quick exit before she could snatch her nephew up and take him home with her. 

Her heart raced, the watch making sure to warn her. She tapped into the watches and everything was fine with Travis, however the ache in her chest and the thumping in her head was bringing on one hell of a headache. Tears pricked her eyes once she was home. She noticed her hands shaking as she fumbled with her keys, dropping them at least once before succeeding. 

The trip to the kitchen was more difficult than she expected. She bumped into nearly everything on her way to get a glass of water. With her hands shaking, drinking the water was difficult, spilling some on herself. She threw the plastic cup in the sink with a frustrated yell.

The tears poured down her face as her lip trembled.

Unwanted memories of her younger self breaking into her mind, visiting, since a long time ago.

She was alone in a barely livable apartment.

Abandoned by her family at the age of 13. Thrown out of their lives, besides what could bite them in the ass. Her basic necessities were met: roof over head, food and water to sustain her, clothes that made her look like a normal and loved child. The “apartment” was the little shed in the backyard, if anyone asked, it was Raelynn who wished to live out there.

She was cursed with magic.

Her ability to communicate with electronics, shamed.

There was a sound that was pulling Raelynn from her worst nightmares. 

Focusing on the sound, desperately attempting to get out of her own mind she felt something as well.

It was her phone, ringing loudly and vibrating in her pocket.

She scrambled to answer the device.

It was Natasha.

Raelynn swallowed and answered, “Hey.”

Concern obvious in Natasha’s voice. “I’m outside.”

“I think it is unlocked.”

Then Raelynn heard the door open, the phone hang up and Natasha rushing through the house. Natasha hurried to put the few bags on the table. Raelynn noticed Natasha was taller than normal, then she realized she was on the floor, sitting in the fetal position against the cabinets. 

Natasha’s face softened but she hurried to get down to Raelynn’s level.

“Breathe. I know you have a million things going on in your mind, but I promise everything will be okay.”

The words were meant to comfort but it was just a flashback to the moment of Loki’s confession. The ache in her chest of having the chance of her dreams but not allowing it due to the new responsibility of a child. She could not drag anyone else into that responsibility thrown on her.

“THAT is what you said before, on THAT day.” Raelynn grit her teeth as she groaned.

“I know. I know.” Natasha sighed heavily. “Ya know… Loki seemed to be in a good mood yesterday when he came back from his walk…”

Raelynn’s heart fluttered, shaking the ache away momentarily. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t bring him into this life I have now. I have to take care of Travis.”

Natasha made herself comfortable on the floor, sitting in front of Raelynn. “I completely understand your worries… But look at you right now. You get a break from your duty of guardian and you are crying your eyes out.”

“I DON’T WANT A BREAK! -I need to take care of Travis.”

Natasha took Raelynn’s hands. “Sweetie… You are NOT abandoning him right now. He is having a healthy time away, socializing with friends. I know you will bring him home the first chance you get. You are not going to leave him to figure out things for himself. You have taught him so much already and he is a GREAT little boy. Very polite and caring. He has the best person to watch over him but you need to take care of yourself too.” 

Raelynn gripped Natasha’s hands. “I just want him to know he is loved.” Her voice broke, “And W-wanted.”

The firm grip returned from Natasha, “I promise you, he knows he is loved and wanted. Everyone around the two of you KNOW you would do anything, give that boy whatever he wished, and would not hesitate to defend him. That little boy appreciates you more than you know. Everything you have done, has been with him in mind. ….Now. I am here. I bought ice cream because I had a feeling we would need it. ...It is probably melting.”

Raelynn laughed a little. “I guess we should eat it all then.”

Natasha got up to get the ice cream with a smirk. 

Raelynn’s phone and watch went off with a message. 

From Travis: 3:16 PM. “I am having fun. Thanks for letting me come. :)”

Raelynn smiled. The message helping ease her mind a little.

She accepted the carton of ice cream and spoon from Natasha before Natasha took her spot on the floor again. “Travis just checked in. Said he is having fun… Thanked me for letting him go.”

Natasha smiled, “That’s great. Did it help you? Because if you don’t think you need that ice cream…”

Raelynn clutched the ice cream to her chest. “I still need this.”

Natasha laughed a little before shoving ice cream into her own mouth. Raelynn grinned as she took a spoonful, then sent a message back to Travis.

Sent to Travis: 3:19 PM. “Happy to hear that Kiddo. You are welcome.”

Raelynn set the phone on her thigh. 

She sighed spooning the melted parts of ice cream. “I still can’t believe how much my life changed with one phone call. I mean… I love Travis with all my heart.” Natasha confirmed quickly. “I know that.”

“-But he was four Nat… All because of my family’s damn curse he was abandoned. He talked to his pets and they actually listened to what he said. Scarily clearly did what he said and that was it. I was tracked down and my damn sister threw her own child at me… Or threatened to put him in the system. He cried constantly.. He didn’t understand who I was, he hated me for taking him away from his family.” Natash pushed the liquid around in the container. “I know… It was extremely difficult in the beginning.” Tears welled in Raelynn’s eyes once again. “I wonder if he still hates me.”

Natasha quickly replied, “He appreciates you. He is old enough to understand what he needs to. He knows you love him and will not hand him off. Trust me Rae. He does not hate you.”

Raelynn sighed, “I just hate the day when I have to tell him that his family threw him out because of something he loves so much.”

Natasha pushed her lips together. “Kids are smart. Maybe he already knows?”

Raelynn’s face fell even more. “He is just 7… That was hard for me at 13.”

Natasha offered a smile, “He has you, he has me and Clint. -His friends. He is not alone. You take him to the park to let him play with animals all the time. You are encouraging his ability, not trying to make him hide it.”

“To a point. I don’t just let him tell people he can SERIOUSLY communicate to animals. Just like I don’t tell everyone I can make electronics do as I say.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Well duh. I don’t tell everyone I am an assassin and work with SHIELD.”

Raelynn laughed slightly. “I guess…”

Raelynn and Natasha ate the melting ice cream. However, Raelynn laughed after a few slurps.

“This mide as well be soup!”

Natash grinned. “Lets try to make milkshakes.”

Raelynn hurried to get the blender out, but both of them laughed when there wasn’t much solid parts left, they added some ice cubes to help the situation a little more.

Natasha sipped her milkshake as they sat on the couch… “Are you constantly checking on Travis?”

“That’s what the watch is for, right? My peace of mind and breathing room for Travis?” Raelynn rose an eyebrow at Natasha.

“Well yes, but you could take a break. ...We could talk about you and Loki yesterday.”

Raelynn smiled a bit, “It was nice.” Then she took a long drink from the milkshake, looking away.

Natasha waved her hand towards herself, trying to coax more information out of Raelynn. “Give me more. He was in a really good mood when he got back. -Ofcouse Thor had to comment on Loki’s mood which made Loki bitter.” 

That made Raelynn giggle, “Sounds like nothing has changed.”

“Not really much has. -Tell me about yesterday.”

“I had Travis at the park, I sat on THE bench again, Loki showed up. And… It was like we have been friends all this time. It felt like we never forgot the other. We reminisced a lot and occasionally we would talk about Travis. Loki was… Happy when he realized Travis could talk to the animals -like I can talk to electronics.”

Natasha grinned, “Did you exchange numbers?”

Raelynn rose an eyebrow and asked, “Why would you ask that?”

“Oh ya know… Loki looking at his phone more than usual.”

Raelynn pushed her lips together… “Well… We did. I just do not know what to say.”

“Ask him to hang out.”

“It is not that simple anymore.”

“Okay. I will take you to the tower, you and Travis. He would love to see all the Avengers. AAAAnnnd you and Loki could hang out that way.”

Raelynn scrunched up her nose… “I don’t know about that.”

“It would be fine, and fun. He would be surrounded by the powerful protectors of Earth. He would be completely safe.”

There was nothing she could do but to sigh. “I’m just still not sure about dragging Loki into a relationship with me-even as friends. He was the one to suggest being friends again, and he KNOWS about Travis but…. Would it even work?”

“Only one way to find out Rae.”

From Travis: 5:48 PM. “I am having a lot of fun. Just ate some pizza with pineapple on it, weird but good. Going to watch a movie soon.”

Raelynn smiled, “He is having fun. Do you think I should let him stay the night?”

Natasha shrugged, "up to you. Would you want me to stay the night?"

Raelynn shrugged, "I don't know."

To Travis: 5:50 PM. "That does sound a bit weird lol. Enjoy the movie Kiddo."

Natasha offered a smile, "I see the new games. Wanna play?"

Raelynn grinned, "think you could win?"

Natasha held her hand out, “Only if you don’t use your magic.”

Raelynn grinned, shaking her hand. “I am still going to kick your ass.”

After playing a few rounds of the games, Raelynn got a call.

Immediately diving for her phone, she answered.

“Hey Kiddo. Everything okay?”

Travis sounded a little worried as he spoke. “Yeah. I think so.”

Raelynn sat up. “You sure?”

“Well… Everyone is wondering if I can stay.”

Raelynn bit her lip for a moment, “Do you want to?”

“Kinda… My tummy is upset though.”

Raelynn smiled a little. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah..”

Raelynn smiled slightly at Natasha. “You sound a little homesick. Do you want me to come get you? Or do you want to stay?”

Travis sighed, “I don’t know. I wanna stay, but will my tummy still hurt?”

“It might, but just play with your friends. Enjoy your time if you want to. If you want me to come get you then I will. You just need to let me know.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Raelynn’s heart melted and broke at the same time. “I want you to have fun, Kiddo. But I would not mind at all to come get you. I do miss you already.”

“I miss you too.”

“Is Johns mom there? Can you let me talk to her?”

“Yeah hang on. … Here she is.”

The mother’s voice was friendly, “Raelynn?”

Raelynn got a little more comfortable on the chair. “Yes, um. I was wondering, is Travis okay. It sounds like he is a little homesick. Or is something wrong?”

She seemed to chuckle a little. “I think it is a case of homesickness. We all asked him if he was staying and then he seemed to get a nervous belly. If he wants to stay he is more than welcome. I have some ginger ale and crackers I could give him.”

Raelynn pursed her lips. “Yeah. Give him that. If he wants to come home at any time, just let me know and I will be there.”

The mother seemed to be smiling, it carried through her voice. “I will definitely let you know. Here is Travis back.”

Travis spoke again. “Hey…” Raelynn smiled slightly at his worried voice. “Hey Kiddo. She is supposed to get you some stuff to help with your tummy. You just let me know if you want me to get you, Okay?”

Raelynn could hear noise in the background of the other children getting excited.

“I guess we are allowed to watch another movie.”

Raelynn laughed, “I heard the excitement.”

“Can I stay?”

Raelynn looked to Natasha who nodded. Biting her lip but then sighing, “Yeah Kiddo.”

“Thanks Rae Rae. ...Can I call after this movie?”

“Absolutely. I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

“Okay. Bye Rae Rae.”

“Bye Kiddo.”

Raelynn watched her phone light up, letting her know the phone call was ended.

Natasha grinned, “Come on.”

Raelynn watched Natasha get up and walk to the dining room. “Where are we going?”

Natasha shrugged looking innocent. “Well, I need to go pack a bag. We need to go to the tower.”

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 6

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, mentions of bad family, needle (briefly mentioned for a second with little detail), a smidge of violence.

Word count: Approx 2400

Masterlist

In this one, Bucky feels terrible about what happened and wants to fix it but he doesn’t know how.

Okay, so we’re just going to admit that Infinity War and End Game didn’t happen and Bucky’s brain had been de blendered by Shuri and for some reason still has his silver arm (sorry that one makes me weak and I always defult to it). 

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (My forever list and His Second Chance list)

_____________________________

“(Y/n)?” Steve knocked on the door a few times. “She even in there?” Sam asked. “FRIDAY said her vitals are reading from her bedroom, so she’s definitely in there, Sam.” Steve nodded, knocking on your door again. “C’mon sweetheart, we just wanna check up on you.” Steve called through the door. “(Y/n), sweetheart, please.” Steve called.

For fuck sake, just leave the poor girl alone. Bucky sat on the floor on top of his mattress, back pressed up against the bed frame with his ear against the wall. He could hear you shuffling about now and again, the odd sniffle and whimper. He could also hear the click clack of your keyboard along with the sound of your mouse, you were drowning them out with a videogame. That sounded like you.

 You’re a fucking idiot, the poor girl has locked herself away because of you.

Perhaps you should be the one to coax her out of her room and apologise.

No, she’s terrified of you, it’ll make it worse, you’d be better to just leave.

Don’t leave, you can’t leave her when you haven’t said you’re sorry or said goodbye.

“Can you please, shut the fuck up?” Bucky growled lowly, hitting his head against the wall that separated your rooms.

 A thump caught your attention. You knew where it came from, it was Bucky on the other side of that wall, probably beating himself up over the incident. Truthfully, you weren’t scared of him and you might have already forgiven him because you knew it wasn’t really Bucky that meant to scare you or hurt you, it was the voice in his head, the damage Hydra did to him that caused it. “(Y/n), open up!” Sam was taking a turn at your door now and you let out a deep sigh.

 Getting up from your swivel chair at your desk, you padded over to the wall and sat on the floor, pressing your ear up against it, your hand coming up to rest against the wall. “Bucky?” You whimpered out.

 Bucky heard you on the other side of the wall. He even considered ignoring you for a moment but knew you had come to him and it wasn’t fair to ignore you. “(Y/n).” Bucky sighed your name out, wondering if you’d even heard him. “I’m sorry.” He apologised, a bit louder this time. “I’m so sorry.” Bucky clutched at his long brown hair, pulling on it a bit too hard, the hurt eased the pain in his chest. So goddamn sorry. “I’m sorry too.” Came your little voice, confusing Bucky. What? Why is she sorry? You’re the one who fucked it all up. “I pushed you too far too fast.” You went on. “Please don’t be sad.” Bucky blurted out. “It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky pulled his hair a bit tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.

 “It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky sounded so desperate, so broken. You let out a sigh and sat in silence for a moment. “(Y/n), please open the door!” Sam was getting exasperated. “Sam, calmly, she’s not gonna open the door if you shout at her.” Steve started squabbling with Sam. “Well I know better; she’ll open the goddamn door if I’m out here long enough.” Sam argued. “No, she won’t, she’ll answer the door if we’re gentle with her.” Steve started going into protective Steve mode and putting on his Cap voice. “Don’t coddle her, she ain’t a child.” The two of them continued arguing and you heard a pained groan from the other side of the wall. I feel you.

 Getting up from the floor, you padded over to the door and swung it open quickly. Both soldiers paused and looked at you, Sam looked terrified as you gave them both a death glare. “(Y/n).” Steve began, voice gentle. “Are you alright?” He asked. “Does she look alright to you? Cause she looks like she’s about to gut us both.” Sam pointed at you. “I just want to rest, please.” You sounded exasperated, exhausted from the anxiety and the entire situation. Without saying anything, Steve nodded and pulled Sam back from the door before you shrunk back into your room and collapsed on your bed. A muffled, “Thank you.” Could be heard from the other side of the wall as the silence set in and you began to fall asleep.

 “C’mon Buck, it’ll be good for you!” Steve exclaimed while Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No.” He replied simply in an frustrated tone. “Please Buck, it’ll help, I promise.” Steve tried to pull Bucky along by the hand the way that you did, but he wasn’t having any of it. “No, I’m not seeing some therapist.” Bucky protested, yanking his hand away.

I don’t want to see a therapist; I want to see (Y/n) and apologise properly.

“No, it’ll help if you go see this therapist about the voice in your head.” Steve encouraged. “It won’t just help you, but it’ll help your little girlfriend too.” Sam teased. “Not my girlfriend.” Bucky growled. I wish she was though; I wish I could kiss her and hug her, tell her how wonderful she is, make lov- Nope, no, now is not the time to think about that!

“Whatever you say pal. Look, just think about it, alright?” Steve sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile and handing Bucky the business card for the therapist he was recommending. “She’s helped a few of the others too, helped Wanda and Pietro process everything that happened after Ultron, helped Tony with his anxiety, she’s helped Bruce with his anger, I’m sure she can do the same for that voice in here.” Steve poked the side of Bucky’s head before backing away and leaving it at that.

Maybe it was worth a shot, if she could help stop the voices so you could think fucking rationally for once.

Bucky sighed and stared down at the little paper in his hand before retreating back to his room.

 ***

“Here, it’ll make you feel better.” A woman who resembled an older version of you leant over your tired body. “It might hurt a little, only for a second.” She smiled gently down at you. “No, please.” You half heartedly protested, too drugged up and sleepy to respond properly. “Darling, it only lasts a second.” She smiled, holding up the needle before slowly approaching your arm. “Stop.” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Stop!” Your yelling was useless, body limp, heavy and difficult to move as the needle went into your arm. Oh god. It burned, it burned so much.

 A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat as you burned from the inside out. “Should’ve knocked her out completely before we did it.” The woman sighed, watching you wriggle and writhe under the straps that held you down onto the workbench. “It’s in her, give up the cash.” She held out her hand. “Not yet, I want to see it work once it’s set in, then you get the money.” An older man stood next to her, dressed in a tan suit. “That wasn’t part of the deal, Pierce.” She sneered. “It is now.”

 “You’re worthless! A freak! An experiment!”

“You injected me with it!”

“Shut up! You worthless child, I did it for the money, not you!” Your mother screamed you down as you cowered in the corner. “You’re tainted, ruined, a failed test!” She raised her voice, throwing kitchen utensils at you with every word. “That’s all I am to you?” You screamed back. “That’s all you ever were!” She responded, chucking a knife at you, but you were too fast, your abilities kicking in. The knife stopped short of your chest, only by a few centimetres.

You saw red, your mother had just tried to kill you.

“Your father left because of you!” She went on as you used your fingers to manipulate the energy field that held the knife still in front of you, twisting the knife around without even touching it. Her eyes went wide and you stared her down. “Don’t talk about dad.” You growled. “Dad left because he couldn’t stand the thought of you taking money from Hydra so they could use their experimental serum on me.” You frowned. “He hated you for it! He hated what you became.” She screamed.

“So did you.” And with the flick of your wrist, the knife hurtled towards your mother, the blade narrowly missing her face and smashing through the wall behind her with the force of energy you put behind it. She screamed, stumbling back from the force and ducked as rubble cascaded down onto her and when she looked up, you were gone.

 ***

You came bolt awake in a cold sweat, heaving for breath, the voices replaying in your mind a few times. “Asshole.” You whispered as shook your head of the memory and sat up to look at the time. Three o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t like you were going to be able to get back to sleep, so you decided to get up and do something with yourself.

 With a pounding headache, you left your room in search of something to quell the pain. As you walked down the corridor, you realised the living room light was on still and you naturally assumed one of the boys had forgotten to turn it off. But as you entered the living room, you saw Bucky sitting hunched over on the edge of the sofa, looking up at your sudden arrival like a deer in the headlights.

 “Bucky.” You whispered. “What are you doing up so late- early- I don’t know.” You dropped your forehead into your hand and rubbed where the headache pulsed. It felt like your brain was two sizes too big for your skull. “Uh.” Bucky looked confused for a second. “Could ask you the same thing.” He responded simply. “(Y/n), I, uh. God, fuck me.” Bucky rubbed his face with his hands. “Can I sit next to you?” You asked, hesitantly taking a step towards him. “No.” Bucky face palmed. “Yes, please.” He almost squeaked out. Oh my god, you are so confusing Barnes. “That’s a yes or no answer question, not both.” You stated with a small smile on your lips. “Sorry, yes, please sit.” Bucky patted the seat next to him. God you’re bad at this, can’t even answer a yes or no answer question properly.

 Bucky flinched when you approached and sat down next to him. “I’m not going to hurt you.” You tried to reassure him. “I know that.” Bucky nodded, leaning away from you. “I’m scared to hurt you, though.” Bucky dropped his voice into a whisper. A look of realisation crossed your features for a second. Wow you actually admitted that out loud, not sure if that’s good or bad, Barnes. Please don’t take it the wrong way, please. “You can’t hurt me, Bucky.” You gave him a small, sweet, reassuring smile as you looked up into his bright blue eyes. “I promise.” You did a quick demonstration of your abilities by plucking the piece of paper from between his fingers with your energy. Bucky stared at you for a second, completely dumbfounded. WhaAAT? This whole time she could make things fucking float? “Holy shi- you’re enhanced?” Bucky’s voice peaked. This is mildly terrifying. You smirked, pulling the card into your hands with your energy field. “I suppose you could call it that.” You shrug.

 Your eyes look down at the little paper. A business card. It was the therapist you’d seen around that Wanda had mentioned a few times to you. “Steve set you up with her?” You ask, holding up the card with your hands this time before handing it back to him. “Yeah, wants me to go and see her.” Bucky sighed. “Think it’ll help?” You ask, sitting back against the soft cushions as you watched Bucky visibly relax a bit. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, following your lead and leaning back against the sofa. You reached out and hovered your hand over his flesh one, waiting for his approval to take it. Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours, his eyes fixed on your gentle gaze. “What do you think?” Bucky asked. Did you really just ask her opinion? Is that going to help? Oh god, she’s going to try and persuade you to do it. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Steve might do that, but I’m not Steve.” You paused for breath. “Do you have anything to lose? The worst that will happen is that it won’t work or that you’re not ready to try it, that’s not going to hurt or kill you. But it’s ultimately your decision, Bucky.” You squeezed his hand a little. Bucky huffed.

 She’s right. She’s so fucking right. What have you got to lose? Her… But going to a therapist is doing the opposite of putting her in danger.

Should listen to her more often.

 “Maybe you’re right.” Bucky sighed. No, she is right you idiot. “No, you’re definitely right.” Bucky corrected himself. Good. You smiled up at him, not a ‘see I told you so’ sort of smug smile, no. It was a sweet, encouraging, gentle smile. Your cheeks warmed with a dusting of pink blush as you gazed up into his soft blue eyes. Oh god, she’s melting me. I’m melting. How does she do that? How are you so wrapped around her little finger? It’s that smile, that sweet little smile. Or the eyes, that’s probably it.

No, it’s her, it’s all of her.

“I’ll do it, for you.” Bucky whispered. Oh no, did you just say that out loud? You just said that out loud. Of course you fucking did. Urgh.

Oh but look at the flustered little smile, the blush, the way she’s looking away shyly. Oh so damn cute. Deeep breath. Bucky smiled at you goofily, getting lost in your beautiful features.

He would do it, for you. He knew he could.

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Forever Tag List:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie@paintballkid711@lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz@mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf @geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red@buckys-islandgirl@chipilerendi @butteryoptimisticpeanut@wowitsemilysblog @dark-night-sky-99 @marvel-ous-bucky@rand0mfangurlstuff @tfandtws

[is-it-madness]

My Glorious Purpose | Loki x OC Chapter 6

A/N: I’m so in love with the mood board for this story! Thank you @wowjeena​ for helping me with it and for being an amazing beta! Love you, darling! 💜😘

Pairing: Loki x OC  (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Touching without consent

Chapter 6: Mission

(Tera’s POV)

Three months have passed by. Tony and Pepper rebuilt Stark Tower from the inside. Tony made sure that every Avenger has their own floor if they ever happen to stay over—Nat and Clint already rearranged their rooms to suit their style. They had come back about a week after they had vanished. Everything is back to normal after Loki’s attempted invasion failed. I still have a light mark from where I was cut on my forehead, other than that, everything is great. Tony designed my room, but unlike Clint and Nat, I kept the original layout and decor. I don’t really have that many possessions to decorate with. When Fury had dropped off a backpack that contained all my stuff, Tony freaked.

“Hey! Where’s this bag from kid? It has your name on it.”

I walk over to where Tony is standing. There’s a backpack next to the elevator and sure enough, my name is on it. I pick it up and unzip it.

“Oh! This is my stuff. Fury must’ve finally had time to clear out my room on the ship,” I tell Tony.

He looks at the bag, then at me, then back down to the bag.

“So-o-o, when is he going to bring the rest of your stuff over?”

“This is all my stuff Tony,” I laugh while shaking my head.

He takes the bag from my hands.

“Hey!”

He starts to ruffle around inside.

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me all you own is three shirts and two pairs of pants?!”

“Not true!” I retaliate.

“Oh excuse me, so rude of me to forget about your toiletries,” he says sarcastically.

“Yeah, so?” I rip my belongings out of his grasp.

“Okay. JARVIS.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Remind me to ask Ms. Potts to take the kid shopping later.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tony! You really don’t need to do that! I’m absolutely fine with what I have!”

“Look kid. You might be okay living like this, but I’m not. You are a teenager! You should have more shoes that you can count! Jeans, shorts, t-shirts, sweaters, dresses, pajamas!. Not some S.H.I.E.L.D. authorized uniforms! And I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this! End of discussion.”

I huff in frustration. “Fine.”

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

I look into my huge walk-in closet that Tony had built for me. I’ve been able to fill a rack after Ms. Potts had taken me shopping. I honestly don’t mind having a few items. I’ve lived so long with so little, that I’m used to not owning as many things as most girls my age would.

I quickly change into some workout clothes we bought and head down to the training room. Nat is already down there meditating, and I join her. We sit there for about ten minutes before we start to stretch.

“You ready to continue your training?” she asks me.

I nod at her enthusiastically. She had begun to train me in karate before Loki came to Earth.

“Okay, so I decided that today, we are going to start incorporating weapons into your techniques.”

She walks to the cabinet where we store all our practice weapons, and pulls out a staff that’s roughly her height. She reaches in again and pulls out another one that is smaller by several inches and hands it to me.

“Now, when you work with a staff, you need one about your height. That makes it easier to work with. And since you’re so short, you get the smallest staff.”

“Hey! Just because I’m five inches shorter than you does NOT mean I’m short!”

It’s the whole “kid” fiasco all over again. 

Nat just laughs. “Yeah, because being 5’2” isn’t short at all. Not in the slightest.”

“Whatever. Can we just start already?”

“Okay, first, we’ll begin with learning how to do a basic spin.”

She begins spinning her staff with both her hands, then switching between hands. I begin to bounce on my heels. I can’t wait; it looks so cool. When she’s done showing off, she stands in front of me.

“Now the first thing you want to do is place your left foot in front of you and extend your left hand while holding your staff. Make sure your hand is in the middle of the staff. Good. Next place your right hand on your chest, just to move it out of your way, for the time being.”

I complied.

“Okay now follow what I do.”

She begins to turn the staff in front of her, then bringing it towards her back.

“See how I’m leading the staff with my thumb? It’s directing the staff where I want it to go.”

We practice that move for a few minutes before turning to use our right hand. After we do that, it starts to get a little tricky. Nat tells me to reverse the way I am turning my staff, so that I start with my palm downward instead of up. It takes me several tries and a few hits to my arm before I finally catch on.

“Not bad. Now let’s try incorporating both hands.”

I watch Nat do it first before I give myself any more bruises. She starts slowly, with her left hand, turning the staff in front of her. When she reaches the right side of her body, she places her right hand behind her left, and turns it back towards the left side of her. She starts speeding up and taking steps as she twirls her staff. It’s a beautifully deadly sight. I start mimicking her movement and soon we were side by side, furiously spinning our staffs in front of us, dancing around each other. Lethal, dangerous, a force to be reckoned with. And I love it.

After practicing for a few hours, I head upstairs to take a shower. Tony had built an en suite in everyone’s rooms. At first, I thought it was a bit much, but I had admittedly grown to love it. When I finish showering and changing into regular clothes, I make my way to the kitchen for food. I take out some ice cream, milk, and frozen strawberries and dump them into a blender. Nat walks in when I’m adding the bananas.

“Mmmm. Make me a cup too.”

“I don’t know if I should,” I respond teasingly. “After all, I seem to recall a certain redhead making fun of my height.”

“Please кроли!” she pouts.

“Okay, fine, fine.”

I blend the smoothie together and pour us each a cup.

We’re making small talk, when her phone buzzes. She picks it up and reads the message. She smiles and looks at me.

“What’s up Nat?”

“Clint and I have another mission tonight.”

“Another one?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to not sound whiny. You just came back from one two days ago! I think to myself.

She must’ve seen the disappointment on my face, however, because she says, “Don’t worry, it’s only for tonight.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have had to practice spinning a staff with Tony.”

Nat laughs at that. When we finish our smoothies, Nat leaves to look for Clint to fill him in on the mission they received. I head out on my own, roaming the tower. I could join Tony and Bruce in the lab, since I’ve been acting as peacemaker since we first settled in. Tony gets a kick out of trying to get Bruce to hulk out. We haven’t had an accident yet, but with Tony around, who knows when Bruce will reach the end of his tether. But I just don’t want to deal with that headache right now. After Tony had finished rebuilding the tower, and whenever Clint and Nat are gone, I go exploring. It’s unbelievable how many rooms the tower has. Lately I stopped exploring because I found a library. It’s magnificent. Rows of shelves that reach the ceiling are stacked with books. The room is circular, so that you can’t see the other end of the room when you enter, just books. It’s kinda like a maze, with all the shelves curving to fit the shape of the room. Someone else could be in here and you would never know. Thankfully Tony took my advice when building this room. He added a mini kitchen, several sofas and armchairs, and a huge fireplace, that I requested. I go to my favorite sofa and grab the book I’ve been reading. 

I read for several hours before I hear JARVIS speak to me. 

“Miss Tera, Miss Romanoff has asked me to inform you that she is looking for you. She is currently in your room.”

“Okay, thanks JARVIS.”

I jog to the elevator and head up to mine and Nat’s floor. I enter my room to see Nat wearing a black cocktail dress with red accents and black heels. Clint is there too and wearing a suit.

“Hey Nat. JARVIS said you were looking for me?”

“Yeah, why aren’t you dressed yet?!”

“For what?”

“Oh shit, did I forget to tell you? You’re coming with us on our mission.”

“Really? Seriously?”

“Yeah, c’mon, get ready. Here’s your dress,” she says, gesturing to my bed.

I take one look at it.

“Wait, what is it that I’ll be doing exactly?” I ask anxiously.

Clint answers, “Don’t worry, you’re backup. Which means you get to sit with me and let Nat do everything.”

“Well if I’m just backup, why do I need this dress?”

“Cause we're going to a party,” Nat tells me.

Nat has to force me out of my hoodie and jeans and into the dress. She threatened to make me workout with Tony. I changed real fast when she said that. When I finish, I slip into the heels that Nat set aside for me. Clint then sat me down in front of my mirror and did my makeup while Nat worked on my hair.

I’m glad when we went to the garage no one saw me in my dress. I manage to avoid everyone. Except for Nat and Clint of course. Now don’t get me wrong. I like the dress. I really like it, in fact. But I struggle with accepting my appearance, not to mention self-esteem. I don’t like anything about any of my features, my insecurities always consume my every waking minute. And this dress is a little revealing. I feel exposed in the lace sleeves, knee length skirt, and low neckline. Plus with the black and gold heels? It’s a nice outfit, just not for me. 

As we drive to the hotel, where the party is at, I admire my smokey makeup look Clint did. I never would have guessed that a skilled archer would know how to apply eye shadow.

“So what are we dealing with Nat?”

She turns to face me from the front. Next to her, driving, is Clint.

“We’re dealing with a major illegal arms dealer named James Foyer. He’s made millions selling illegal weapons to the worst kind of people imaginable.”

“I’m guessing you’re gonna flirt with him to get him to tell you who his buyers are?”

She winks. “Exactly.”

I run my hands through my long, brunette hair. “So what’s he celebrating?”

“I don’t think he needs a reason to celebrate. Just wants to show the world he’s got money—and lots of it,” Clint says.

A few minutes later, we pull up in front of a huge hotel. We step out of the Ferrari and Clint gives the keys to the valet.

“Not a scratch.”

Nat and I hold on to Clint’s arm, on either side of him.

“Earpieces in?”

“Check,” we tell him.

“Alright then Nat, off you go.”

She slips away from us and heads through the crowd, keeping an eye out for our target. Clint heads toward the stairs, and I make my way to the back of the party, smiling, keeping watch.

“Target located Nat. He’s coming out of the elevator.”

Of course Clint would see him first, looking for his prey from above.

“Heading that way now,” Nat reports back.

I turn towards the elevator, where a tall, skinny, dark haired man is exiting. He has a cigar dangling from his lips and is wearing an expensive looking suit. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, hordes of women try to come near him, to touch him, to claim him as their own. He gives each of them attention, but he grows bored of them and moves on to the next set of breasts he sees.

“Disgusting,” I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m Nat’s backup. If something happens to her, I have to jump in and take her spot. I see James’ eyes latch on to Nat and her body. I shake my head. No decent man can look at Nat without looking down every few seconds. But she takes it, she starts chatting with him, laughing flirtatiously, placing her hand on his arm. It seems to be working. I figure Nat would get him to crack in the next ten minutes. I start to notice something wrong. Foyer is getting bored of her. I’ve never seen a man become bored so quickly when Natasha Romanoff is around. He begins scanning the crowd, looking for another female to interest him, when his eyes land on me. I’m about to bolt out of the hotel, when I hear Clint.

“Wait! Stay there. Nat’s losing him, so you might have to go in. Act interested in him.”

I do as Clint says and flash a smile at Foyer. He immediately begins to make his way towards me.

Through my clenched smile, I tell Clint, “I don’t think I can do this! Nat hasn’t trained me in this yet!”

“Don’t worry Tera, you can do this. Just make him think you’re into him. Flirt. Laugh. Play dumb.”

“But Clint-”

“This is my sister Savannah. Savannah, this is Mr. James Foyer.”

“There you are Cleo!” I say to Nat. “I’ve been looking for you!” I turn to face the man. “It’s lovely to meet you Mr. Foyer.”

I extend my hand to shake, but he takes it and brings it to his lips.

“Please, call me James.”

I smile back at him, trying to restrain my look of disgust.

“Cleo, why didn’t you tell me your sister is a doll?”

Nat laughs and says, “You think every new girl you meet is a doll.”

I find myself very relieved that Nat and I came up with fake names for each other. I suddenly notice Nat tapping her thigh. It isn’t out of nervousness, rather, it’s a code—Morse code.

Not me, he wants you.

I groan internally after I decode her message. Of course the only person to ever find me attractive is a sleazeball.

Okay. I tap back. I have to do this, this is why I’m here, for backup. Also because I don’t think Clint would be able to seduce Foyer.

At my response, Nat makes up an excuse to leave, leaving me with Foyer.

“I don’t believe you two are sisters,” he says evenly.

I raise an eyebrow. KEEP CALM!

“Really?”

He takes a step closer to me and takes my face in his hand. It takes all I have to not bite his hand.

“No. You’re much more… appealing,” he says, eyes darting towards my body, lingering in places that make me want to put him in a choke hold. 

DON’T SLAP HIM, DO NOT SLAP HIM! THINK OF THE MISSION! THINK. OF. THE. MISSION.

“You’re not like other girls,” he continues. 

“How so?” I ask, in what I hope is a seductive voice, batting my lashes at him.

He drops his hand and chuckles. “As soon as I entered the room, they all threw themselves at me. You didn’t. I like women who play hard to get.” He suddenly grabs my waist and pulls me flush against him, now whispering in my ear. “Cause once I get them, they taste the sweetest,” I feel him place a soft kiss on my neck, lingering before pulling away.

I see Clint aiming his gun from the balcony and Nat pulling out her knives. They heard what he said and saw what he did. I place my arms around Foyer’s neck, making a shooing motion with my hand to tell them to stand down. I smile at the man in front of me, an idea forming.

“If we taste the sweetest, what do you taste like?”

He smiles an even larger one and leans forward, attempting to kiss me. I put a finger to his lips and a hand to his chest, holding him back. I might have to seduce him, but I refuse to let my first kiss be with this sexist.

“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?” I whisper, trailing my fingers down his chest, stopping at his belt.

He takes my hand and heads towards the elevator. He pushes the button for the third floor and as soon as the doors close, he tries kissing me again and again I place a finger to his lips.

“I don’t give kisses very easily, so if you want one, you must do as I say. Understand?”

He places both his hands on my waist. Never have I felt so violated in my life, but I hold back all my anger and emotions. 

I can’t back out of his iron-like grasp. He bends over to whisper into my ear again. “But you taste divine babe.” He places his lips at the base of my neck and I begin to feel him trail his tongue upward towards my jaw.

“So good,” I hear him whisper, before he catches my earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently.

Correction. NOW I have never been more violated. I grab his tie. I momentarily think about how if I choked him here and now, no one would know. Unfortunately though, we need that information from him, otherwise I would have to explain to Fury why the only man that can give us the information is dead. I quickly begin to care less about the mission and more about my own dignity, but before I can tighten the tie and choke the life out of him, the doors open to the third floor. Foyer removes his lips from my skin, takes my hand and leads me to his door. I look at the number, memorizing it for later. Foyer opens the door and pulls me inside. He tries kissing me a third time and again I stop him with a finger.

“You had your fun in the elevator,” I tell him. “Now it's my turn.”

He bits his lower lip and I see the lust in his eyes, but thankfully, he doesn’t argue.

Thank god!

I push him into a chair by the dresser, and I reach inside my clutch that I brought with me and pull out a pair of handcuffs.

I dangle them in front of him. 

“You brought cuffs with you?” he asks, unbuttoning his shirt.

I wink, “I thought I might get lucky tonight. Turns out I did.”

I cuff his hands and attach them to the chair, so not only is he cuffed, he also can’t walk around without the chair dragging with him.

I take his tie off. 

“Open.”

He opens his mouth immediately and I tie the cloth around his mouth forming a gag.

“Good. Now you wait here, and I’ll be back with a surprise for you.” I whisper in his ear, with a hand on his chest. I turn and head into the bathroom. I wink at him before closing the door.

I whip out my phone and text Nat.

Nat I got him. He’s cuffed and gagged. 

Hurry, call Fury quick. 

I only have a few minutes before he gets suspicious.

Where are you?

Third floor.

Room 394

This isn't a joke. Please hurry.

There‘s no response and it’s quiet for two minutes before I hear a loud thud. Probably Fury. I hear someone loading a gun.

“Where is she!?!”

I walk out of the bathroom.

“Hey sis,” I say.

I see Clint holding a loaded gun pointed at Foyer’s head, Nat with her widow’s bite charged up and ready to pounce, and the door laying on the ground. Yup. It was Fury.

“Alright boys, tie him up. Nice work you three. You’re done for the night, go and head on home.”

“Thanks, Director.”

“Don’t forget to turn your report into me. Otherwise I’ll put you on desk duty.”

“Yes sir,” we all say.

We turn to leave but I think of something

I walk back to Foyer. “Did you like my surprise?”

 He glares and growls through the gag.

I feign shock. “You didn’t?! Well I have some advice for you. Never touch a lady without her consent, otherwise they’ll bring hell down on you.” I smile and walk out of the room with Nat and Clint by my side.

As we walk through the lobby, S.H.I.E.L.D agents run past us, up the stairs and into the elevator. 

“You did amazing Tera. I’m so proud of you!”

I smile at the praise. “Thanks Nat.” I pause before asking, “Do you have any wipes? I feel contaminated.”

She smiles at me. “I always have some during my missions. They’re in the car. C’mon.”

When we walk out of the hotel, our Ferrari is parked right up front. We get in and Clint takes off, back towards Stark Tower. 

“Here you go.”

Nat passes me a pack of wet wipes. I immediately pull out three and begin scrubbing my hands and neck. I start telling them exactly what happened, not leaving out a single detail. I’m telling them how I was able to gag and cuff him, when Nat gets a call on her phone. She answers and puts it on speaker.

“Hey Tony. What’s up?”

“Sorry Nat, I know you guys are on your mission, but something came up.”

“Don’t worry, we finished. We’re on our way home right now.”

“Good, because I need you three here now.”

“Is that Lady Natasha?” We hear a voice ask in the background. “I wish to speak with her as well!”

The three of us look at each other.

“Tony?” I ask. “Is that Thor?”

“Lady Tera! You are in this device as well? Splendid!”

“No, wait Thor! That button hangs-”

The line goes dead. I laugh at the thought of Thor and Tony wrestling with the phone.

“I wonder why Thor is back?” Clint wonders aloud. 

Clint pulls into the garage of the tower and we make our way towards the elevator.

“At least we have another member on the team,” I say as we head up.

Part 7

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 27

LISTEN TO ME — 0027

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.9K

Chan wept not only the pitangas*, but also all the fruits of the fruit bow. It wasn't possible that someone had such bad luck!

"And her boyfriend got there all of a sudden, all handsome, looked like a model," — he sniffed as he talked about his fateful discovery about the hot girl at the hospital being compromised. Not that he was surprised, since fate loved to preach those plays to him, but he could swear that the smiles that that girl had sent him eventually wanted to say something... Probably, that he was a fool. — "It looked like those movie scenes, you know? Where he hugs her around the waist and gives that amazing kiss for everyone to see that they're a perfect couple. Even Seungmin must've laughed at my defeated face!" — Chan remembered Kim's indecipherable expression as he let the stethoscope drop to the floor. He also stationed in the same hospital, and although they had never had any disagreements, Chan thought that even that forgotten plant at the front desk was making fun of his personal failure. — "I feel cheated again!"

Lee Felix, who was sitting on the other side of the table, looked at his new friend in a way that should've been a little comfortable, but he also suffered so much from those damn breakdowns that he didn't even know what to do with his own life, nor with that of others.

Felix had requested transfer to the same college of Chan and that was the first day that he attended the lessons of the course of Medicine with the new class. Alas, he was already gifted by a double work without even getting a tiny salute from the professors, and Chan, who was sitting next to him, noticing how much the rookie looked lost, asked if they could do it together. Felix just missed wrapping him in a hug. Usually he wasn't so easy to make friends — for some reason, people always thought he was a bit strange (?) — what could've caused a headache if Chan hadn't been a good person and helped a soul in need of attention. So much attention, so to say.

It took forty minutes together and half a work done for Felix to start pouring out his frustrations as if they had been friends for a long time. His girlfriend had dumped him, so he was needy and immensely sad the last few days. The plan was to meet at five, after Chan had left the internship, and tried to finish the work until seven, but it was nearly nine o'clock and all they both knew how to do was cry — after Felix opened his wounded heart, Chan began to identifying with him and having his feelings rummaged by what appeared to be a giant blender, consequently urging him to talk about his frustrations as well, emphasizing the latter.

All that was missing was a bottle of soju and music for cuckold.

"That's why I detest some women" — gripping one of Bang's hands lightly, Felix sniffed and wiped the corner of his eyes with a napkin he'd recently purchased. — "No offense," — he said to Jade, who now only watched the two of them from the counter while making juice. She had tried to use her words from a near-graduate psychologist to console them in the last half hour, but it didn't seem to do much good. — "You're nice."

"Huh... Thank you?" — the american replied hesitantly. On the one hand, she was happy that Chan had arranged a friend, but the other was worried that the same friend would be so melancholic. Two melancholics together never ended in good. — "You're nice too, I guess."

"Really?" — the australian smiled suddenly. — "Not everyone says that, thank you!"

"... You're welcome."

At that moment, the front door made a noise and those in the kitchen waited until the person in charge showed up. It was inevitable for Felix not to let his jaw drop.

"May I know where you were until that time?" — Jade asked as soon as she saw Jinah enter the room, as if she were unnie there. However, everything became clearer as the figure of Jisung also entered her field of vision.

"In the church, of course," — Choi replied as she got rid of her uncomfortable tie. — "Praying for the Holy Spirit."

"With that swollen mouth?"

"That's not my fault."

Jisung let out a small "oh" when Jinah sent him a meaningful look with a wink. He was totally embarrassed by such attitudes.

Jade could already imagine the rest of the story. It'd start with dates, kisses here and there, nighttime visits and, when she realized, Jisung would already be sprawled out on the living room sofa. That way they'd have to rent a bigger apartment.

"What?" — Jinah asked when she finally noticed Chan's emotional situation. — "That girl from the hospital already has someone?"

He didn't want to be so predictable.

"My love for her started so random and ended even more..." — he lamented, drawing disjointed things on the sheet of notebook on the table. — "By the way, this is Felix, we met today," — his eyes met those of the younger boy, who by then had already blessed the newcomers mentally and returned to normal. — "This is Jinah, my friend, and that is Jisung, the... How can I call?"

"It's something undefined, I get it" — Felix laughed when Jinah opened her mouth, but couldn't find the right word, at the same time Jisung seemed to have received a flip-flop on both cheeks. — "Nice to meet you."

The doorbell rang and Jade, supposing it was the pizza, left the kitchen while the others settled on the table and exchanged receptive words. In the meantime, Changbin came out of the bath cheerfully, with a wide smile decorating his face.

"I loved the internship, being close to all those cute little kids is so cute!" — he said with his hands on his cheeks, resulting in a discreet grimace coming from Jisung. — "There are also the older ones, but I confess that little ones are my favorites!"

"But..." — Han whispered to Jinah, who could only hear because they were sitting close to each other. — "He's not like that, that's wrong."

"I told you that the impression you had of him was wrong," — Choi whispered back. — "But you don't believe the things I say."

"It must be because you're always talking nonsense"

"Boy, you can be sure that when I start talking real nonsense you'll know."

"And one of them even called me Binnie!" — Changbin continued his story, causing Chan and Felix to stop crying and start laughing and commenting on. It was just another day almost normal.

Having the two boxes of pizza on the table — one of chicken and the other of chocolate —, Jade took the jar of ice-cold orange juice that rested on the counter and began to serve the glasses. As soon as she went to deliver Jisung's, her gaze took on a deeper depth, like the look of a suspicious mother lurking in her son's first girlfriend.

Han stared at the glass for a moment, then turned to the american: — "There's no poison, right?"

"The will to kill you is no bigger than my willingness to spend money on so little."

"Jade!" — Jinah scolded.

"He started it!"

"I didn't start anything!" — retorted Jisung. — "You who kept staring at me with that angry face."

"But it's your fault!" — the american stamped her foot.

"I wasn't even looking at you. If your problem is jealous of Jinah, you can keep it to yourself!"

"She can?" — Choi's expression became sad, but she was promptly ignored in the middle of the argument.

"I'm not jealous of Jinah!" — Jade stated with all the conviction that she was able to gather within her 5'3" tall. — "I just don't like you very much!"

"Guys, what is that?" — Changbin intervened, alternating his gaze between them. — "Can't you stay in peace for at least a few hours?"

"Or rather, can't you be at peace for all?" — Chan reshaped the question. — "If you're going to have to get used to each other's presence anyway, you'd better do it more quietly, no?"

"It's not me, it's her" — sulked, Jisung folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Jade was about to do the same, but her good sense alerted her to how much she was being childish acting like that. — "And I won't apologize while she doesn't."

"Ah, but..." — Kang was almost indignant again, but eventually let out a sigh and lift the fucking white flag for being easier and less exhausting. — "Okay..." — she bit the inside of her cheek in a short moment of reluctance. — "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Jisung didn't spare one last ironic glance before finally lowering his guard: — "I'm sorry, too. For whatever bad I've done for you."

"Now a hug," — Changbin added, but both Jade and Jisung refused and said it was already too good that way, destroying Seo's expectations. — "That's why I like the kids," — he murmured, disappointed, and turned his attention back to the pizza.

The moment, then, became conducive to peace reign and everyone could enjoy a good meal around a large table, except for Jinah, who continued sulk in her place.

"What's wrong with you?" — Jisung asked with a frown.

"You reject me too quickly," — she mumbled, folding her arms.

It took him a few seconds to go over the last lines and find out what he had done wrong, then realized that the tantrum was due to the fact that he had told Jade that, if the problem between them was jealousy, the american could stay with Jinah for herself, but it was obvious that this was a kind of irony. For a moment, Jisung had forgotten how much Choi was sensitive that day.

"I didn't reject you and I didn't say that seriously."

"It wasn't what it looked like."

"Jinah, do you really think I'd offer you to Jade if I knew she really would want you?"

"This is getting cute," — Felix murmured to Chan, who laughed softly and nodded.

"Really?" — Choi asked, her eyes looking like those of some abandoned puppy. Changbin wanted to laugh and put an end to that drama at once, for it was very clear to Chan, Jade and him that it was all a cheap staging by someone who wanted only a little more attention.

"Of course."

"Then, give me a little kiss" — Jinah pouted her red lips in Jisung's direction, who widened his eyes.

"You don't have to exaggerate, either."

"But you said..."

Han began to think about what he had done so badly to deserve it, but, as he knew from experience that every fight with Choi was lost, he deprived himself of something stubbornly in vain and kissed her for a few seconds, then hearing cries and provocations of the others.

"Now I'm happy again," — Jinah said through a smile as they parted, watching the boy's cheeks paint red.

Jisung just wished he hadn't opened such a big smile as well.

* WEEP THE PITANGAS: again, idk where that expression came from, but basically from what i know, it means: "the name pitanga, or brazilian/surinam cherry, comes from pyrang, which, in tupi — language used by the ancient indian tribes here in brazil —, means red. therefore, the expression refers to someone who cried a lot, until the eye turned red. from its origins, this expression has the meaning of "complaining", "whining". i googled to see if there was a similar english expression and found some, but i don't think any other expression would fit that well sjskjs because that's the fun of brazilian slang and expressions, they're funnier when translated in a literal sense, even if you don't understand the meaning at all, yanno? in addition, it's also good to learn new expressions and slang from time to time, even if they are from a different language

[ravynnwritestrash]

I Know You

This is part two for I Know Who You Are so if you haven’t read that I recommend you start there first.

I Know Who You Are(p.1)

Summary- This is just Civil War, my guys.

Warnings- angst, fluff, swearing, angst again cuz that’s basically all this is.

A/N: I know this took a while to get out but I just wasn’t in the right headspace to write all of this sweet sweet angst. I’ve decided to make this four parts. Part one- CAWS (you knew that), Part two- CACW (You also knew that), Part three- Infinity War, and part four- End Game (which I’m sure you guessed already). I will have a tag list for this so if you want to be tagged let me know. We also have a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all of our fics so let us know if you want on that.

Lagos-

“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target.” Wanda’s voice was calm and quiet through my earpiece. I sat not far from her, just close enough where I could see her.

“There’s an ATM on the south corner, which means?” Steve asked

“Cameras.”

“Both cross streets are one-way.”

“So compromised escape route.”

“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen. He isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out. You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“The red one? It’s cute.” I let out a small laugh at her remark careful not to draw any attention to myself.

“It’s also bulletproof,” Nat spoke up.

“Meaning private security.” I finished for her.

“Which means more guns,” Nat added with a little extra sass than she had before. “Which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.”

“When is it not our headache?” I sarcastically added picking at the napkin in front of me.

“Eyes on target, folks.” Steve interrupted keeping us on track. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.” Sam laughed at him through the comms.

“If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem. He kinda hates us” he added.

“Sam, you see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

“That trucks loaded for max weight and the drivers armed.” my heart rate quickened as I got ready for the fight ahead of us.

“It’s a battering ram,” Nat said.

“Go now!” Steve slipped into his captain voice instantly and the rest of the conversation slipped from my mind as I stood and casually made my way around the corner from the cafe. Hopping on to my motorcycle and waiting for Nat to make her way around the corner as well. When I heard her coming I started up the bike.

“You going my way,” she asked into the comms as she passed me. I let out a small laugh before driving off after her.

“Only if you can keep up,” I joked as I pulled passed her, both of us racing in the direction of the gunfire. I leapt from my bike shortly after Nat throwing punches at the first guard I saw, trying to make my way towards Rumlow.

“I got him!” Nat yelled to me and I focused on keeping the rest of the guards off of her while she fought Rumlow. The vehicle behind me exploded distracting me long enough to get knocked down by one of the guards. My vision went black as my head bounced off the pavement and for a second I was falling from the helicarrier again. Falling from Bucky. Bucky. My vision flooded with white as I opened my eyes just in time to roll away from the kick one of the guards was about to hit me with. I quickly jumped up and slammed his head into the vehicle effectively knocking him out. Jumping on our bikes me and Natasha raced in the direction that Sam was flying.

“I got four their splitting up!” Sam said into the comms.

“I got the two on the left. (Y/N), keep civilians out of harm,” Nat said.

“ On it.” I started ushering people away from the scene. It became increasingly more difficult as the gunfire started. People were scattered everywhere and I moved to keep them away from the individual fights. I spotted Steve and ran over to where he was fighting Rumlow.

“Whos your buyer?” I heard him ask.

“You know he knew you?” Rumlow asked before glancing over at me and back at Steve. “ Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.” he spit out. I wanted to punch him for saying his name.

“What did you say?” Steve asked dragging Rumlow closer to him.

“He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it. Till they put his brain back in a blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me.”My heart was racing in my chest and I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to go to Steve but I couldn’t force myself to move. I wanted to shut Rumlow up but I needed to hear what he had to say. I needed to. “‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go you gotta go.’…and you’re coming with me.” he glanced back at me with a wicked look in his eyes. “ You and your girlfriend. ” before either of us could make a move he pushed the trigger and begun to explode. It felt like time slowed down and my heart stopped until Rumlow let out a scream. I realized Wanda was containing the explosion. Relief flooded through me and Wanda threw him into the air. I wanted to cry in relief. Steve was okay. Thank god Steve was okay. My relief was cut short as Rumlow exploded my gaze lifting up to where he was. Horror flooding through me as the explosion envelops part of the building.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Nat, I can’t sign them,” I said after Steve had left.

“Maybe it’s the right thing to do.” We were both staring out into the city from the window in the compound. “Maybe it’s something we all have to do. To stay together. You know that’s all Tony wants right.” I glanced back at Tony who had returned to his chair and then around the room before sighing.

“You heard the way Ross talked about us. We’re not going to be working for the U.N. We are going to be their weapons. I know why Tony wants this. I really do. I just… I just can’t back this one.” she let out a sigh as she took in my words.

“So, you’re retired then?”

“I mean. I am one hundred years old. I think it’s about time.” I joked with her masking the sadness in my voice.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The news was filled with reports of the Winter Soldiers attack on the U.N. I quickly pulled up my hood and made my way towards the building, keeping an eye out for Sam or Steve. If they were going to do something stupid, which they definitely were, then I was coming with them. I spotted Sam sitting in a crowded cafe and made my way towards him.

“Sam,” I greeted finding him sitting at the counter and I sat next to him.

“Oh no! I am not getting involved in whatever fight is going to happen between you and Steve.”

“Sam! Look, I need to be there. I need to come with. I can’t just sit around being.. Retired.” he let out a small laugh at my words. “Besides, you two idiots couldn’t last a day without me.” Sam faked offense before bumping shoulders with me. I was thankful for Sam. He was loyal to Steve and I had grown to trust him with my life. More than that I had grown to trust him with Steves. Not that I would ever tell Sam this but I was glad he was our friend.

“Fine. Fine, you have my vote.” I shook my head at him and stole his coffee.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Don’t make me take that vote back.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this” Steve said to me as we snuck into Bucky’s apartment building.

“I can’t believe you think you could stop me.”

“Just watch the stairs, please.”

“You got it.” I gave him a soft nod enough so he knows that I’m okay. Enough so he knows that I have his back and I trust him with whatever he is about to do.

Everything was quiet as I stood in the corner of the stairs, hoping that anyone who might see me would think that I was waiting for someone.

“They’ve set the perimeter” Sams voice came through the comms. My heart started to pound as they started to make their way up the stairs.

“Fuck it.” I grumbled and silently dashed up the stairs to where I knew Steve was. To where Bucky was. I opened the door as quietly as possible and shut it behind me. My eyes focusing on Bucky before I tore them away. ”Steve,” I spoke causing both men to turn to me.

“I told you to wait,” he growled.

“Yeah, well you didn’t say for how long and it was either here or draw a lot of attention.” my eyes flicked back to Bucky before I spoke again. “We’re out of time. We have to go.” the words had barely left my mouth when we were under attack. Quickly the three of us began taking down German police. Someone started to shoot and Bucky pulled me behind him using his arm to shield us from the bullets, only for Steve to step in front of him a moment later guarding the three of us with his shield. I followed bucky out the door helping him taking down anyone who was trying to stop us. Bucky made a jump for the window barely making it to the opposite rooftop only to be taken down by a man in a black suit. “Steve, opposite roof.” was all the warning I gave before taking a running jump for it. My chest slammed into the edge of the wall and I pulled myself up the rest of the way thanking the gods for kevlar. I ran to where Bucky and the stranger were fighting and quickly tackled the man away from him, only for him to throw me off and make a b-line back towards him. Bucky made a run for it making his way down the building the man not far behind him as I got up and followed shortly behind this time with Steve directly behind me. We made our way to an underpass my sole focus on keeping Bucky alive.

“(y/n), stay on Bucky. I have an idea.”

“On it, Cap” I didn’t need to be told twice I pushed myself a little more to slightly close the gap between us and ran where ever he did. Just when we had made our way out of the underpass Bucky pushed a man from his motorcycle spinning it in the air and climbing on. Damn. I shook my head of the image and spoke “He’s on a motorcycle heading your way. Mind giving me a lift?” I asked no one in particular.

“On my way” Sam spoke. I didn’t have to wait long before Falcon scooped me up carrying me towards the fight. “Where too, sweetheart.” he joked.

“Call me sweetheart again and I’m breaking your wings.” I sassed back. Just when we were caught up the roof caved above us causing sam to involuntarily drop me and I rolled across the pavement. I quickly got up and ran to where Steve was only to quickly be surrounded by cops… and Rhodey.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I stood next to Steve watching Bucky getting his evaluation. Anxiety filling my chest. Tony walked past me with a question in his eyes he already knew the answer to and I shook my head. I let the conversation Steve was having flow to the background as I focused on the screen. Suddenly everything went black. I quickly turned to Steve the small amount of fear in his eyes telling me everything I needed to know. He grabbed my arm and took off running keeping me close behind him. After a while, he let go and I followed behind Sam. the first thing I noticed is the cage, for lack of a better word, that they were keeping bucky in was empty. Steve ran into the room.

Sam had barely entered the room when Bucky took a swing at him. At first, I thought it was a mistake. It had to be right?. Once the fight drug on I knew it was no longer Bucky. Sam was thrown against the cage and Steve focused his attention on Bucky. I quickly made my way to where Sam had landed to make sure he was alright. When I moved to check his pulse and he let out a grown.

“I’m starting to hate that guy.” I didn’t have time to focus on what he was saying my eyes snapped up to Steve and Bucky in time to see Steve thrown down an elevator shaft. I followed Sam through the sea of people being evacuated cursing when we found the abandoned sweater of the doctor who had been in charge of evaluating Bucky.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Hey guys, your boys up,” Sam spoke breaking the silence. Steve and I quickly made our way to where Bucky was.

“Steve?” Bucky spoke and I had to fight to keep my feet where they were.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?”

“Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to were newspapers in your shoes “ he let out a soft laugh and I couldnt help the smile that grew on my face as I looked to Steve.

“That’s not in a museum is it, Stevie?” Steve rolled his eyes at me jokingly

“I told you not to call me Stevie.” He joked back causing Sam and me to let out small laughs. Steve didn’t let the moment last too long before he was asking questions. Questions about the doctor and what he wanted. I allowed myself to slide down the wall so I was sitting on the floor as Bucky told his story. I listened, of course, but for most of it, I was trying not to slip back down my own memory lane.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Bucky and I sat in the back of an old bug with Sam in the front.

“Can you move your seat up?” Bucky spoke.

“No.” I rolled my eyes at sams tone and place my feet on the back of the seat ‘accidentally” kicking him.

“Whoops” I joked as I looked out the side window.

“I’m not doing it.”

“I just said whoops.” I could practically hear Sam rolling his eyes and he was true to his word he didn’t move his seat up but I was able to get a small smile from Bucky so I counted it as a win. Moving my feet back down to the floor I leaned forward, “Is he actually going to get our stuff or is he just going to flirt?” I joked. Sam let out a soft laugh before responding.

“Give the man a break. He needs a little love.” Sam joked back.

“All I’m saying is while we are all wanted it might not be the time.”

“Or it’s the best time.” the car fell silent for a moment. Until Steve and Sharon began to kiss. Causing Me and Sam to laugh. “Told you so. Best. time.” I rolled my eyes going back to my seat. With a small laugh. I risked a glance over to Bucky smiled giving him a light shrug trying to hold back the heat rising to my cheeks when he smiled back. I looked away in time to see Steve pulling away from Sharon. Once he glanced towards I could tell by the look on his face we were all giving him the same look.

“So, I have a question,” Sam said turning slightly to face me while grinning.

“I’m not kissing you.” I sassed.

“That wasn’t it.”

“Bucky’s not going to kiss you either.”

“No. Does kissing Captain America-”

“Oh god” I groaned trying to hold back a laugh.

“Count as service to our country.”

“Please stop talking.” I laughed.

“Because I mean she served him… some tongue” he added through laughter and I let my head hit the window of the car as I groaned at his joke.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I was running behind Sam and Bucky. I just had to get bucky out safe. Bucky out safe and then protect Steve… from our friends.

“What the hell is that?” Buckys voice broke me from my concentration.

“Everybodys gotta have a gimmick.” the man in the red and blue suit quickly threw Sam to the side before moving to Bucky. I stopped dead in my tracks when he easily stopped one of Bucky hits.

“Wow, cool you have a metal arm?” before I could process the voice sam flew back around taking the kid with him.

“I’m sorry. Stark brought a child?” I asked partially into my comms and partially to no one.

“Apparently he’s called Spiderman,” Steve answered.

I leaned over the rails look at the two men currently webbed to the ground trying to hold back my laughter.

“Don’t even start. Just get me out.” Sam barked at me. I ran down the stairs cutting Bucky free and then moving over to Sam.

“For the record, I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, you didn’t help much either.” I rolled my eyes and flipped him off before we started in the direction fo the Quinjet. We wall stood in a line looking across at our friends. I looked over to Steve as Sam spoke.

“What are we doing cap?”

“We fight”

After throwing a few punches with Nat I made my way over to Bucky and Steve in time to see Antman turning huge. The three of us mad our way to the qinjet barely making passed falling rubble. Once inside we were stopped in our tracks by Nat.

“You’re not going to stop” she spoke

“You know I can’t”

“I’m going to regret this.” Instantly I put up my guards for a fight only for her to hit T’challa.  Quickly the three of us ran to the quinjet leaving Nat behind to fight off  T’challa.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest as we watched the video. The video of Tony’s parents getting killed by the Winter Soldier. A tear fell down my cheek. I couldnt imagine what Tony was going through right now. I placed myself between tony and bucky hoping it wouldn’t come to this. It all happened so fast after Tony hit Steve. I placed a kick behind his knee and he took me down with him.

“You’re going to fight for him? For a monster?” Tony asked holding me to the ground. “I saw you like family. “ his voice was broken as he spoke his mask coming down over his face. “I loved you like you were my own child.” He spoke through his mask. I kicked against his chest pushing him off of me and he instantly turned to Bucky and they began to fight. No matter what we said to him Tony couldn’t see past his grief. Not that I could blame him. I wished he could but I saw all of the reasons why he couldn’t. Reliving the pain of your parents passing had to be a new kind of suffering. Learning that everything you thought you knew about their death was a lie. Learning that a man you considered a friend knew all along an never said a word. I knew why Tony had to fight. I just hoped when the dust settled that he would see why we had to as well. The building began to crumble around us as we fought. Each punch to Tony broke my heart, he was like a father to me, but I couldnt let him kill Bucky not when I was so close to getting him back.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the way to Wakanda Bucky and I caught up, in a I’ll talk to you later kinda way. With stories, half finished and half-truths that the other caught but doesn’t say anything. I knew what was going to happen when we got to Wakanda. I understood why he needed to do it so I held back my tears and replaced them with cheese jokes I knew would get a smile. A smile I wanted to memorize. Once there Steve left us on the jet for a moment alone.  

“This is what’s best,” he spoke after a moment of silence.

“I know, Buck.” I kept my gaze focused on my hands. Slowly I watched his feet come into view as if he was unsure of what he was going to do one he reached me. His hand found its way under my shin and he lifted my gaze so that our eyes would meet. I wanted to apologize. Apologize for the sadness I knew he saw there. I watched him fight for the right words to say for a moment before speaking.

“This won’t be the last time you’re seeing me, doll.” I wasn’t sure if he used the old nickname for my benefit or because it felt right but I was thankful that he did it. I gave him a soft smile and felt my cheeks flush slightly under his gaze.

“We’ve met under less likely circumstances already.” I joked. He just nodded in response. He leaned in and placed a soft fleeting kiss on my lips before turning and leaving in the direction that Steve went. As I watched him walk away I gently placed my fingers on my lips as if trying to convince myself that it truly happened and let myself cry.

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@avengemepercy  

[diesiirae-blog]

. . . LOADING FILE .  hey ,  what’s  up  ya’ll ??  i’m  marty ,  seventeen  ( almost  eighteen ,  oof ) ,  livin’  in  the  cst  &  usin’  he / him  pronouns ,  and  this  is  my  Love ,  my  Light ,  shiloh .  at  the  moment ,  i  don’t  really  have  any  connections  in  mind ,  specifically ,  but  i’d  love  to  brainstorm  with  ya’ll  and  see  how  our  muses  connect / interact !!  so ,  please  don’t  be  afraid  to  hmu  for  plots  ‘n’  stuff !!  &  if  you  give  this  post  a  li’l  like ,  i’ll  assume  you’d  like  to  plot ,  so  Beware ;  i  WILL  come  bother  you  and  dote  on  your  muse(s)  (;  anyways ,  i’m  hella  awkward  and  Not  Good  At  Talking  To  People ,  so  i  apologize  ahead  of  time  (’:  now ,  let’s  meet  shiloh ,  yeah ?

NOTE:  psd  used  is  by  the  amazing  bumkeyz !!

statistics .

full  name:  shiloh  peyton  campbell

nicknames / aliases:  shi  ( pronounced ‘ shy ’ )

age  +  zodiac:  twenty - nine  ( 29 )  +  gemini

gender  +  pronouns:  trans  guy  +  he / him

place  of  birth:  roswell ,  new  mexico

ethnicity:  white ;  english ,  irish ,  scottish ,  german

languages:  english  ( first ) ,  spanish ,  french ,  asl

occupation:  paramedic  &  bartender

power(s):  blood  manipulation

face  claim:  chace  crawford

the  app .

❛ ━ hey ,  is  it  just  me  or  do  you  hear  liability  by  lorde  playing  in  the  distance ?  oh ,  that’s  just  shiloh  campbell ,  a  twenty - nine  year  old  paramedic  &  bartender .  according  to  my  sources ,  i  heard  he  can  be  chaotic  good ,  and  is  benign ,  but  also  distant .  that’s  probably  why  they  remind  everyone  of  empty  tubs  of  ice  cream ,  the  warmest  smiles ,  &  dancing  in  the  rain  so  much !  anyway ,  whether  or  not  they’re  neutral  towards  the  supers ,  crystalline  city  is  keeping  a  close  eye  on  them !

more  info .

*     let  me  start  off  by  saying  that  shiloh  is  not  shy ━ he’s  actually  very  friendly  and  doesn’t  really  mind  being  around  people  or  conversing  with  them .  he  just  kind  of  prefers  his  lonesome ,  because  it’s  so  much  easier ,  and  he  enjoys  the  quiet .

*     despite  his  friendliness  towards  everyone ,  he  tries  to  keep  people  at  a  safe  distance .  he  rarely  gets  close  to  anyone ,  and  although  he’s  pretty  dang  good  at  hiding  it ,  he  gets  very  nervous  when  he  does  get  close  to  someone .  past  platonic  and  romantic  relationships  never  went  well  for  him ,  and  he  greatly  fears  being  used  and  then  thrown  away  when  people  are  bored  with  him .  keeping  people  at  a  distance  is  safe ,  and  gives  him  a  lot  less  anxiety ,  so  he  prefers  it  that  way .

*     the  only  person  he  really  trusts  is  his  mom .  they’re  very  close  and  always  have  been .  she  was  a  single  mother  raising  shiloh ,  and  when  shiloh  came  out  to  her  when  he  was  thirteen ,  she  was  more  than  accepting  and  supportive .  she  did  everything  in  her  power  to  make  his  transition  as  easy  as  possible .  she  found  the  best  doctor  she  could  after  a  thorough  search ,  and  shiloh  started  on  t  when  he  was  sixteen ,  and  a  year  and  a  half  later ,  he  got  top  surgery ,  thanks  to  his  mom  secretly  saving  money  for  that  exact  purpose .  he’s  definitely  a  momma’s  boy .

*     he  was  born  in  roswell ,  where  he  and  his  mother  lived  until  he  was  ten  years  old ,  when  his  mom  got  a  job  offer  in  new  york .  he  lived  there  until  he  was  twenty-six ,  working  odd - jobs  while  and  after  finishing  college .  he  moved  to  crystalline  city  after  a  long  talk  with  his  mother ,  and  immediately  applied  as  a  paramedic ,  his  dream  job .

*     backtracking  a  little ,  he  found  out  about  his  abilities  when  he  was  around  eight  years  old ,  when  he  cut  his  thumb  open  trying  to  get  a  blender  out  of  its  box  to  surprise  his  mom  with  a  milkshake ,  and  the  blood  almost  immediately  clotted  up .  the  cut  was  too  deep  for  him  not  to  be  confused .  however ,  he  kept  this  to  himself ,  afraid  of  what  his  mom  or  someone  else  might  do  if  they  found  out .  &&  just  before  moving  to  new  york ,  a  bully  at  school  got  on  his  last  nerve ,  and  his  emotions  overwhelmed  him  so  much  he  didn’t  know  what  he  was  doing  until  the  bully  dropped  to  the  floor ,  unconscious ,  and  his  own  energy  felt  completely  drained .  that  might  also  be  part  of  the  reason  they  moved ,  other  than  his  mom’s  very - well - timed  job  offer .

*     now ,  he  uses  his  abilities  to  help  others ,  but  as  discreetly  as  he  can .  a  few  people  at  the  firehouse  know  about  his  abilities ,  because  it’s  impossible  to  keep  a  secret  like  that  when  everyone  you  pick  up  with  deep  wounds  almost  immediately  stops  bleeding  when  you  touch  them ━ but  other  than  them  and  his  mom ,  he  keeps  it  to  himself .  he  doesn’t  want  the  extra  attention ,  or  to  be  used  like  he  was  in  the  past .

*     when  it  comes  to  others  with  abilities ,  he’d  be  a  hypocrite  to  be  against  them ━ and  even  if  he  didn’t  have  inhuman  abilities ,  he  wouldn’t  judge  them  on  their  powers ,  but  what  they  do  with  them .  needless  to  say ,  he’s  against  the  syndicate  and  everything  they  stand  for ,  but  he’s  not  exactly  for  the  league  of  heroes ,  either .  he  appreciates  do - gooders ,  but  he  doesn’t  appreciate  the  government  and  having  to  abide  by  every  single  law .  and ,  maybe  it’s  cynical ,  but  he’s  got  a  hunch  that  not  all  the  heroes  are  actually  heroes .  some  of  them  must  be  corrupt  from  all  that  power  and  attention ,  right ?  especially  when  they’re  put  on  pedestals .

*     so ,  his  abilities .  basically ,  he  can  manipulate  his  own  and  other  people’s  blood  to  clot ,  so  bleeding  stops  almost  immediately  ( this  doesn’t  apply  to  every  wound ;  more  like  just  deep  cuts  and  gunshot  wounds ,  scrapes ,  stuff  like  that ) .  his  energy  will  decrease ,  though  how  much  depends  on  the  severity  of  the  wound ,  and  he’ll  more  than  likely  get  a  headache ,  the  severity  also  depending  on  the  wounds’ .  he  can  also  reverse  blood  flow  in  others  to  cause  unconsciousness ,  but  it  takes  a  lot  out  of  him ,  almost  to  the  point  where  he  passes  out .  similar  to  this ,  he  can  raise  his  own  and  the  blood  pressure  of  others ,  and  can  even  induce  a  heart  attack  &  hemorrhaging ,  although  he’s  never  actually  tried  or  even  accidentally  done  that .  he  can  increase  his  own  blood  flow  to  enhance  his  speed ,  strength ,  and  stamina ,  as  well ,  although  not  to  superhuman  speed / strength / stamina ,  and  the  comedown  is  not  fun .  at  all .  it’s  like  a  bad  hangover .

[thedistantstorm]

The Morning After

A Kinderguardian wakes up on a couch, in a nice apartment in the Last Safe City, with no idea how she got there, and the Vanguard Commander makes her some coffee. He’s wearing regular clothes. Lilith is intrigued, hungover, and also regrets everything.

Roughly two weeks after the events of Phoenix Protocol:

-/

The lights in the flat are dimmed when he enters. Only a single candle is lit in the living room. On their loveseat - he doesn’t even blink at the thought of it being theirs, though this is technically still his residence and she does keep her own apartment - his beloved is curled up, focused. Her tablet casts ambient blue light across her features. He can tell she’s reading for pleasure based on how relaxed she is, Tamashii nestled into the collar of her robe, optic dimmed and resting. It isn’t that late though, so he's a bit surprised she has the lights off.

“Long day?” He asks, and stills when Miyu immediately puts her finger to her lips to shush him. She smiles when he heeds her request, staying silent. Tamashii shimmers away as she rises. She crosses the room as quietly as he’s ever seen, and she pulls him by the forearm into the kitchen.

Her lips press against his in greeting, and she turns on the single light over the sink instead of the main ones. “We have a guest this evening,” She murmurs gently. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“A guest?”

Miyu jerks her thumb toward the living room. “Lilith’s on the couch." From this angle, he can see the lump of small Warlock, the strip of light created from the one she's turned on illuminating her blanket-covered legs. "That fireteam she teamed up with on Titan invited her out. She’s never been drinking before.”

His eyes light up with something soft, almost amused, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“I don’t think she’ll do it again,” She murmurs. “Got a little philosophical with me on whether or not an Exo is technically a human being and cried herself to sleep.”

Zavala’s mouth twitches into a frown. “You should-”

“Yeah. I’ll talk with her about it when she’s sobered up a bit.”

He nods. “Cayde had his moments. The adjustment was… well, I think most Exos struggle with it.” He looks at the girl on their couch and back to Miyu. “If I can help, let me know.”

She squeezes their combined hands. “I appreciate it. She’s a good kid. Wish she’d have asked me to take her out though.”

“You can barely control your own drinking, if I remember correctly-” She flushes in the dim light and pouts.

“You came to get me one time,” She hisses.

“Shaxx seemed to think it happened more than that.” The smile that blooms on his face is more teasing than judgmental.

"It only happens when I'm with him. You can't tell me he's never subjected you to peer pressure!"

He chuckles low, pursing his lips and holding a finger to them, reminding her to be quiet. She blushes harder. He kisses her again, slow and sweet. "Shall we take this to the bedroom as to refrain from disturbing our guest?" 

Miyu hums something in the affirmative and lets him lead her with a hand on the small of her back. For the first time, when she closes the bedroom door behind them, she locks it with a quiet snick. Nizana will alert Tamashii if their guest needs anything.

-/

Her optics take longer than normal to boot up, to fully orient. She smells coffee before anything and blinks herself into focus silently. There's a blanket over her. It smells like sandalwood and jasmine, floral and fresh. She needs to stretch. She's sleeping on a couch, and though it's comfy, she feels like she's been dragged behind someone's Sparrow through the EDZ.

Nizana churrs quietly in her head. Washroom is to your left, the second door down the hall. Freshen up, you'll feel better.

She listens to her Ghost, feeling like she's still lacking a touch of her normal equilibrium. She wretches into the toilet for several moments, and if she had the ability to do so, she's certain she'd be blushing or crying out of embarrassment. She doesn't even know where she is.

You really did a number on yourself, Lilith, Nizana chastises through their link, but waits to do so until she's almost finished. Lilith splashes cool water on her face.

I remember being at the bar, Lilith thinks back to her Ghost. Morgana and Bertie and I were having a good time.

Yes, but you tried to show off and outdrink them.

Did I win?

Nizana shimmers into the space between her and the mirror, then scans her with a blue beam. Lilith recoils.

"'S too bright," She slurs, her own voice feeding the hollow pounding of her rapidly worsening headache.

"Do you think you won?" Nizana replies at normal volume. "You're going to be mostly functional today, but I wouldn't suggest fieldwork. You will likely feel dizzy and uncomfortable, at least until this afternoon."

Lilith sighs. 

Nizana relents, "You did win, but you were very intoxicated afterwards. My scans showed your alcohol levels to be nearly three times the limit to be considered safe to operate a Sparrow. You conducted yourself rather… outlandishly as well."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," Her partner chirps right back. 

The Exo puts a hand on her forehead, looking at herself in the mirror. Even the ambient lights of her mouth made little fireworks go off in her head when she appraises herself. She didn't know she could feel like this. "I think I need to sit down."

"That sounds like a smart idea."

When she returns, there's a mug of coffee sitting on a black coaster waiting for her. On further inspection, the coaster itself looks handmade, with durable yarn. She takes note of a loveseat adjacent to her, a comfortable looking recliner, and a modest sized screen across the room. The blinds are drawn, so she can't tell exactly where in the City she is. That bothers her a bit, but not enough to subject herself to seeing what's beyond the window. The natural light will likely hurt her head, as well.

The sound of soft, measured footfalls makes her still. She doesn't know anyone who sounds like that.

Did I… go home with a stranger?

Nizana doesn't answer her. 

Lilith sighs and draws the blankets around herself. She feels cold. Hopefully she didn't. She doesn't think she'd be that unintelligent, even if everything after that super cute fruity drink was a blur. Maybe this is Bertie or Morgana’s home, although everything seems rather well lived-in and high end, considering the comfort of the furniture.

"Quietly," Comes a low voice from the kitchen. "Surely-" Their words get lower, and Lilith's sharp hearing cannot pick up what they're saying.

A very tentative, muffled trill is the reply. It still hurts her to hear. Then, she notes that a small, white shelled Ghost flits into the doorway. When Lilith makes eye contact, it shimmers away.

The footsteps grow louder, but not unbearably so. 

"Good morning," Commander Zavala greets politely, and Lilith gapes at him, jaw hanging. She's glad she's leaning over the coffee table with both hands around the mug. If it was in transit to her mouth she's sure she would have fumbled it.

"Uh…" Nizana provides zero assistance. Lilith supposes she deserves this. Weakly, when the Commander drops into the recliner near her and her brain errors on the innately casual nature of his movements, of the fact that he's wearing a simple tunic and pants, not full armor, she hangs her head and mutters, "Sorry for the trouble, Sir."

He shakes his head. "I believe I've conducted myself similarly plenty of times. We've all been there," He offers sagely. When she looks at him, surprised she's not being lectured, he gives her something almost like a smile. With his mouth. She doesn't - she must still be asleep, she thinks.

"Not to sound rude, Commander-"

The Awoken sips at his coffee. "Zavala is fine. We are not at the Tower, you are not on assignment, and it is well before working hours."

"Did you bring me home," She blurts, and she's certain some part of her face is surely overheating. Perhaps the ground will swallow her up.

He leans back, coffee in hand. "No, I did not. Miyu retrieved you. She's currently asleep in our bedroom, I suspect she'll be up shortly."

"What." The word is thrown out like a thunderclap. "She - you…" She sags dramatically against the couch.

"For all your projecting, I suspected you knew."

Lilith blinks at his eyes, then focuses on his forehead because his irises are so bright. "I mean, I do," She sighs. Her outburst doesn't help her head stop hurting. She flails dramatically despite it. "But she's never come out and told me!"

Owlishly, Zavala blinks back at her. He has more coffee and thinks before responding. "Miyu trusts you," He finally says. "Therefore I do, as well. I would hope your exercise discretion."

There is silence between them until the sound of quiet footfalls comes from the far end of the flat. Adelaide pops back into existence with a quick spark and zooms through the air. Lilith watches as deft hands reach out and bring her close, initiating a strange version of a cuddle.

"Good morning, Addy," Miyu whispers, Tamashii hovering over her shoulder. 

It's a party in here, Lilith thinks to Nizana.

Nizana sighs. I think it's nice, she answers in her distant, cool tone, and Lilith holds out her palm immediately, summoning her into the physical realm. Though seemingly childish and self-centered herself, Lilith is not dumb. She knows that answer means Nizana is lonely or jealous, maybe both.

With her Ghost in front of her, Lilith strokes her fins gently and cups her between her palms. Adelaide, upon seeing the newcomer, immediately introduces herself, Tamashii floating over as well. 

“Sleep well?” Miyu inquires of their guest.

She looks down. “I feel like I’ve been put through a blender.”

“Death by turbine is rather annoying,” Zavala quips and Miyu swats playfully at his shoulder before perching on the arm of his chair. “What,” He asks incredulously. “I was simply empathizing with her pain.”

“Mhmm,” She hums, yawning with a cute little yowl. He blinks up at her in a secretive kind of smile and she returns it, nose scrunching as she looks down at his face.

“Oh, you two are gross,” Lilith crows, looking at her own reflection in the blackness of her coffee. “I’m going back to pretending I don’t know about this before you make me sick.” 

"You being sick is on you, Lillie," Miyu informs her, in a volume just above a whisper. "Neither of us drank themselves silly last night."