#but I have nothing else to do other than Instruments and I’m gonna practice Anyways today

[sweet-as-kiwis]

My friend and I are Officially making plans to see the Barbie movie so I’m tryna figure out an outfit but I DONT OWN ANYTHING PINK AH

[iguessitsjustme]

Deep Night Ep 5 Thoughts

Oops. Got distracted by Stardew Valley and also the return of my headache. Here’s hoping the meds kick in soon. But also I got the Stray Kids merch I ordered! Now I’m living in my new hoodie. Anyway it’s time for Deep Night 5: Rae Blogs Live. Wait no that one is too easy. Deep Night 5: Jealousy Dive. Yeah that one sounds right:

Who is hiring these unfluencers to talk shit when the police come? That’s a typo but I’m keeping it. Cause there’s no way they’re not in on it

I don’t know what Freya pays Dai but it is not enough. 

I don’t think I talked about the opening vocals when I liveblogged episode 4. So here’s me gushing about how absolutely fucking amazing they are. I do not think this would be an easy song to sing. It sounds easy but that’s because of the sheer talent and skill its being performed with. Like, I’m a passably decent singer. I can carry a tune. I am not the most impressive vocalist in the world but I have had multiple people ask me if I sing professionally or as a hobby somewhere. I would not be able to perform this song without HOURS of practice. Vocals are also an instrument that requires practice and technique and I am just so damn impressed with these vocals. I think the song itself is okay, but the singer does so much. The singer is actively carrying the melody and I cannot. I’ll stop talking about this now but if you want my thoughts on how the opening fits the show, let me know. Cause I do have some thoughts there but I think I should probably actually continue watching now

Freya and unnamed gorgeous woman are so cute. What is her name? I need to know for reasons. 

Unrelated to anything but I am having an excellent hair day and I am annoyed that only I will see it. 

Seiji. You can love both of them. I promise. It’s okay. They’re gonna fall in love with each other too. I don’t know if they actually do in the show but don’t worry about that. Semantics. You’ll all be in love.

Ken can be the one that tucks them both into bed at night. 

I need Khem to apologize to Wela so bad. He very clearly actually feels bad and wants to apologize.

Honestly, I don’t think I could say no to Khem’s face. I mean just look at how cute he is

Awww he apologized. Now make it a good one.

I love them????

Now boys. You’re on the roof. Not even gonna lay down a towel or nothing?

Ooohhhh here comes his mother. Oh she got distracted. Seems Wela knows his mother well. But still. The roof? Boys. 

Khem is very good at apologizing. It’s because he thinks about how his words and actions have hurt the people he loves. And he cares more about not hurting them than he does about being right. And I think he will not make the same mistakes twice. 

Obsessed with this. More please. 

Khem and his mom are so cute. 

I’m sure someone else has talked about Khem giving Wela his watch and how that was so good for both of them. Khem can lay a small inconspicuous claim on Wela and when Wela is working he can use it to show Khem that he’s thinking of him so no need to get jealous. Its beautiful and brilliant. 

My man don’t do drugs in the bathroom. This isn’t the club for that.

Of course the cops showed up. Good for Khem knowing someone hired that man to do drugs. 

Honestly are the cops not bored?

I know what pink milk is. But what is red soda?

Is Ken gonna rat them out? Trying to make Seiji number 1? Got bad news about who Khem is and how his mom already knows. But I still see how that could be an issue. 

I mean, Seiji makes a good point. These issues did start when Khem started. It’s not his fault and it’s obvious who it is but he has no way to know that. 

Ken’s a bitch. I actually don’t like him. There was no reason for him to do that.

Yeah somehow I knew Seiji wouldn’t like that.

Get him Seiji. Get im.

I am so surprised that that woman showed up with the cops. Shocked I tell ya. Picking my jaw up off the floor. 

Time to watch episode 6 I guess. I don’t really care about this plotline but I’ll watch it anyway. But only after this commercial break (I caved and subscribed to dropout so i can watch game changer so that is what i will be doing for a minute between these episodes)

[witch-hazels-musings]

scaramouche, diluc, and childe with a [gn] reader whos terrified of needles?

Needle Fear

Warning -> General, sfw (mention of needles, getting a shot, cussing (S), sudden kiss (Ch))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Scaramouche 

Childe

Not only has Childe seen many sicknesses and many healers, but he’s also had to help his siblings through any and all visits they had to take - so it wasn’t unusual for him when you nearly begged him to visit the healers with you

There was something adorable about the way you tightly gripped onto his hand, the way you hid behind him just enough when you walked down the hall to the examination room, the way you glanced at him or turned to him every time you heard a person walk past the door. How could he not think you were adorable? 

“Childe, it’s gonna hurt.” Your fingers curled around his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. His comforting scent and tall frame were like a barrier between you and the door you didn’t want to see. 

“It’ll be okay, I have to do this all the time.” 

“Really?” He nodded his head and lifted your chin. The smile on his face was reassuring and, for a moment, as his fingers rested against you, you forgot where you even were. That was until you heard the click of the door and the sound of footsteps. 

“Hey there, are we ready?” They entered the room and set their items on the small table next to you but all you could respond with was shifting closer into the shield you’d made out of Childe. 

“Hey, it’ll be alright. Wanna know why?” He leaned down, his arms spanning either side of you while his palms pressed into the mattress you sat on. The soft cool of his eyes brought you a reprieve, a distraction from the current environment and as you looked at him, you shook your head signaling him to continue. “I’ll be here the whole time, right here, that’s why it’ll be okay.” 

After a moment, you gave in - how could you not when he was so comforting to you. “O-okay, I’m ready.” Your hands moved to grab onto his wrists and as you heard the healer begin to prepare their items, you continued to stare at Childe. “Don’t move.” 

“I won't.” You nodded again, your eyes drifting to the healer, and when they ran a cool, cleansing cloth over your arm you tensed. “Look at me, it’s okay.” Their hand wrapped around your arm to hold you steady and your head twisted in fear.

“Childe --- I can’t … hold o-” Your words were cut off by his lips, his fingers wrapping around your jaw as he pulled you back to him. The suddenness of his kiss blocked out everything else, the heat of his lips, the fullness of his connection, it was all so distracting. 

“All done.” You pulled away, your gaze dropping to the small bandage they placed onto your arm. When did they do that?

“See, I told you it would be simple.” Childe smiled at you and you hid your embarrassment in the palm of your hand. 

Diluc

He couldn’t count the times he’s had to experience this type of care - from the constant exams done in the Knights of Favonious, to the aid he received during his three mysterious years - getting something like this was just common practice to him at this point - plus, it only took a few moments and then it was over, so it wasn’t that bad 

Though, as he watched the way you fussed, worried, and nearly drew yourself to sickness at the idea, he recalled a memory of his childhood. If he could do it for you, he would, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and he was going to need to find some other way to keep you steady 

Diluc stood next to you, his body angled in such a way that he could keep you in his line of sight while also observing the door. You didn’t dare turn around so instead, you looked out the window as you held onto your arms with a grip that hurt your fingers. 

“I don’t like this.” You muttered, watching the workers meander through the vineyards. It would have been better if you could just be with them, hide in between the many dangling grapes, and as far away from this situation as you could get. 

“I know, I’ve been assured this person is very experienced. You should have nothing to fear.” 

“Save for the whole needle part, archons, why do we even need this.” You shook your head and moved closer to the window. 

“It will only take a moment, I’ll be here the whole time.” Turning your attention away from the outside world, you gazed up at Diluc. His neutral expression surrounded by lively hair was somehow more comforting than anything you’d ever come upon in your whole lifetime. He was your rock, steadfast and sturdy, and as his fingers grazed your arm, ran over your ear, you knew his words held true. 

“Oka--” 

“Master Diluc, the healer.” You turned and saw one of the maids ushering in a young woman whose brightness lit up the room. You recognized her from the church and immediately you felt more at ease. Quickly, the instruments were prepared and as you settled onto the bed, your eyes found the one thing you were most anxious about. 

“I know you’re scared,” She began, pulling a chair close to you while she explained the process. “I’ll clean your arm with this,” She pointed to the small tin before continuing, “then I’ll gently take your arm and give you the shot.” 

“It’ll hurt, right.” You whispered, shifting uncomfortably to make more space. 

“For a very brief second. Then it’ll be over.” Her smile was so warm and you knew she must have done this quite often. 

“I’m sure it’s silly to see a grown adult so afraid of needles.” 

“Not as silly as you would imagine, are you ready?” You looked at her and nodded your head slowly but when she began the process, you turned away and closed your eyes. That’s when you felt the bed dip and a warm heat spread across your body. 

“I’m right here.” Diluc’s voice was soft, and sent a shiver down your spine - or was that the cleaning salv? It didn’t matter because as soon as your face found his chest, you disappeared into his warmth and security. All you felt was his hand over your ear, all you heard was the pounding of his heart; you weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, but by the time you looked up the healer was gone but Diluc had stayed. 

Scaramouche 

He didn’t understand your aversion to something so small. How could one little thing cause you to break down into a panic, it’s not like it could really hurt you - he’s felt much worse in his lifetime

So when you begged him to go with you, pleaded practically on your knees, he was stuck between his irritation of your complaints and how cute you were with those pouting lips and watering eyes (how adorable you look, he’ll never tell you though)

“It’s not that bad, just be quiet for one minute.” Scara pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed so loud you were sure people outside of the room could hear him. Of course, he’d be annoyed, you literally dragged him here to your check-up just so you could have someone with you when they … when they brought out the needle. Why did they need to do this to you anyway, weren’t there healers all around Teyvat that could cure you with a flick of their wrist. The fact that they also had instruments like these was confounding. 

“I know, I’m sorry …” You bit your lip and turned away from him. Your eyes finding the sheets and fingers moving to poke at your gums, teeth clenching hard around your nails. This habit was one you developed a long time ago and while you managed to curb it during most activities but when you were stressed and uncomfortable it reared its head. 

You heard the sound of Scara’s voice and turned to look at him but were interrupted by the healer entering the room. “Hello, are you ready?” As soon as they placed the items close to you, you went stiff. You wanted so badly to be calm but it was … impossible, look at that thing! Eyes darting to Scara you slipped into pleading but did your best to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

“Will it hurt?” Scara asked as he watched them prepare the needle and syringe. 

“Only for a second, I promise you won’t even notice it.” They looked at you but all your eyes could see was the large pointy metal bit that was about to go right through your skin and as a child reaches for their parent in the darkness, you grabbed onto Scara’s clothes. 

“Fine, give me one. I’ll show you there isn’t anything to be scared about.” Quickly, he rolled up his sleeves and after the healer prepared a second needled, they held his arm while he looked in your direction. 

“Ready?”

“Get it over with.” You watched as the needle moved to his arm, your head shaking but he seemed so calm. “See there is nothing to -- FUCK WHAT THE .. SHIT!?” His sudden outburst startled both you and the healer, but their professionalism powered through until it was all done. 

“Wasn’t that bad … huh?” You laughed, your hand covering your mouth as you watched him stare daggers into the person at his side. 

“Shut up, I’m leaving.” 

“Wait! I still haven’t gotten mine!!” 

“Too bad, you’re on your own.” 

“Scara!” He pushed his way through the door and you heard him shouting indiscernibly down the hall. 

“Are you ready?” The healer asked, and you began to bite your nails.  

--

tag list:

@sufzku @plenilunegazes @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @fuwon @aoirohi @anatthesavage @actstfbla @shy-specter @fvushiguros @kaidou-pie @cyphermagic @linarizaki

[marauderundercover]

Maribat Halloween: Decorating

Marinette Dupain Cheng groans, dropping herself across her friend’s lap, hiding her face in her hands. 

“What’s up Pixie Pop?” Jason asks, his attention immediately on her. She just groans, trying not to think of the ways she had failed today. “Pix?” Jason prompts. She huffs and sits up, pouting. 

“I met a boy today.” She says, and Jason grins. 

“Didya say something embarrassing?” He teases, and she huffs. 

“Kind of.” She says vaguely, not willing to go into it. 

“Ya know you’re gonna tell me eventually. Might as well just tell me now.” Jason points out, and Marinette sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. 

“So he was super cute and instead of doing something normal like tell him he’s cute or ask him out or anything else, I volunteered to be his secretary for the month while his is on vacation.” She rambles out, groaning. Jason snorts, laughing loudly until he stops abruptly. Marinette glances at him, frowning at his sudden change. “What-” 

“Your meeting today, it was at Wayne Enterprises, wasn’t it.” He says, his frustration clear. 

“Yeah?” She draws out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Goddamnit Replacement.” Jason swears, shaking his head. 

“What?” Marinette raises an eyebrow, completely lost. Jason sighs. 

“Let me tell you a little about Tim Drake.”

---

Tim Drake was confused, as he walked into Wayne Enterprises on October 1st. And he didn't like to be confused. But all things considered, he felt that his confusion was valid. After all, when he left the building at eleven o'clock last night (long after everyone else, even his secretary, had left), the building looked like a normal office building. Now, though, there were spiderwebs and tiny pumpkins everywhere. Tiny plastic spiders and cloth ghosts hung from the ceilings. It was cute, but he had no idea how it could've happened. Or when. Deciding to check the security tapes, he walks swiftly over to the elevator, blinking in surprise at the change in music. Instead of the usual (boring) elevator music, an instrumental version of "This is Halloween" was playing softly. Honestly, it was impressive. Whoever had managed to do it had done so without Tim seeing them as he left, and without tripping any of the alarms. He'd just have to hope that whoever did it wasn't willing to use their powers for evil.

As the elevator stops at his floor, he mentally makes a note to ask Marinette, his temporary secretary, if she'd seen anyone strange when she left the night before. She’d only been his secretary for two weeks, and was only scheduled to do the job for one more. She had come in for a meeting with Lucius Fox, something to do with a fabric Lucius had developed, Tim was unsure on the details. But when she came in, she’d seen the absolute mess that the top floor had become since Tim’s secretary had left on vacation. She’d nearly insisted on helping out, and Tim honestly loved having her around. Marinette was funny, and cute and smart and- He frowns, shaking his head to clear it. Sure, he had a crush on her. But nothing could come of it. He’d seen Jason picking her up a couple times, and as much as he disliked his brother at times, he wouldn’t try to date the girl his brother was dating. Sighing, he watches as the numbers finally approach his floor.

The second he walks onto his floor, he's bombarded with even more decorations. More of the same from downstairs, but there were also skeletons (dressed in tiny costumes), plastic bags, and Marinette- for some reason- had a witch's hat on. Tim's eyebrow raises. 

"Feeling festive?" He asks, confused. It's not that Marinette was always serious. In fact, he'd seen her leap over a counter for a cup of coffee. But he'd never seen her in a hat. Especially not a witch hat. 

"Is it too much? We don't really do Halloween in France, not like this anyway." She says nervously, touching the hat.

"Well, er, it's definitely more than I'm used to." He says, before the pieces click together. "Wait a minute, did you decorate the entire building?" Tim asks, completely shocked. Though, he probably shouldn't be. The woman was a force of nature. Marinette blushes. 

"Yeah, I just thought- sorry, Jason mentioned something about it the other day.” She says and Tim sighs. Of course his asshole brother had something to do with this. Tim drops into the seat in front of Marinette’s desk and smiles at her gently. 

“What exactly did he say?” Tim asks, and Tim’s surprised to see that Marinette’s face can get even more red. She mumbles something, and Tim frowns. “Couldn’t hear you, Mari.” He says. She sighs, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. 

“He said that you love Halloween.” She says again, and Tim blinks in surprise. 

“Wait, what?” 

“You, he said that you like Halloween. And I wasn’t exactly sure how much would be too much and I’ve never been great at subtlety and so I decided that it wouldn’t be the end of the world to do the whole tower instead of just this floor but then I had to call Jason to help me change the music in the elevator because I didn’t have the clearance for that and-” She rambles, and Tim frowns, reaching forward to grab her hands to try and get her to slow down, to help her calm down. She takes in a deep breath and grins at him, making his heart skip a beat. 

“Sorry, I just, you were rambling.” Tim says, quickly releasing her hands. 

“I really like you.” She blurts out, her eyes widening. Tim’s eyebrows shoot upwards. 

“I-you-Jason?” He says and she frowns. 

“What about Jason?” She asks. 

“You, you and Jason. I can’t- you’re dating Jason, aren’t you?” He asks, and she laughs, which confuses him even more. Was she laughing at him? Or at the suggestion? 

“Jason is one of my best friends. And, like my friends Adrien and Nino, he’s also practically my brother.” She explains, her amused smile shifting into something else. Something softer. 

“So you aren’t dating my brother?” Tim asks, and Marinette shakes her head, giggling softly. 

“If I was dating Jason, I definitely wouldn’t have decorated the entirety of Wayne Enterprises to try and ask you out.” She says. Tim grins as her words register. 

“You want to ask me out?” He clarifies, and she nods.

“Coffee after work? I’ll buy.” She offers, and he smiles. 

“As long as I can buy next time.” He says with a grin. Who knew a couple of decorations could lead to something so great.

Permanent tag list (open): @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @maribat-october-rarepairs

[slytherwrites]

Part Two: Girl’s Night

Momo never minded sharing you. You were an intellectual masterpiece, something to be shared and gifted to the world. And so, she would quickly talk about what you do and who you are (once her full-fledged background check came in, of course).

The next two you meet are Kyoka Jirou and Tooru Hagakure—two of the other Class 1A girls. Momo grabs your wrist harshly, yanking you towards them when she spots you in the lunchroom.

“Oh hey, Yaoyorozu!” You press a hand to your chest, your heart practically beating out of your chest, “You scared me. Anyways… is there anything you need? I don’t have your costume done, but I’m working on it during my free time!”

“Don’t worry about that right now. And call me Yaomomo, we’re friends, remember?”

“Al-alright Yaomomo.” You reply, “If this isn’t about your costume, what do you need?”

“To have lunch together!” Momo sets down two bento boxes, “Here, I had my staff send it over last block. It should still be heated up!”

“Thanks…” You take the lunch. It saves you the trouble of going through Lunch Rush’s line.

With food already with them, Momo’s other two friends don’t get up either. They have you trapped with them the entire lunch. You eat what Momo’s given you. It’s your favorite.

You don’t bother asking how she knows your favorite food. It’s just a coincidence… right?

“So…?” Momo asks, eyes wide and hopeful for your approval, “What do you think?”

“It’s good!” You reply, “my favorite, actually.”

“What a coincidence…” This is the first thing the purple haired girl says to you, “Anyways, the name’s Jirou. Kyoka Jirou.”

“And I’m Tooru!” The invisible girl exclaims, “Momo’s said a lot about you!”

“All good things, Y/N.” Momo chuckles.

“You’re the girl who was singing during the School Festival.” You place where you’ve seen her face before, “Your voice is really good, by the way!”

“Th-thanks…” Jirou’s face starts to flush.

Tooru adds, “You can hear it again if you join us for girl’s night!”

“Girls night?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” Momo explains, “the 2A girls get together every Friday night and work through whatever we need to do, since heroics can get pretty stressful. And we also have our fair share of fun!”

“Wouldn’t I be intruding?” You ask, “I don’t exactly fit the requirements…”

“Nonsense, Y/N!” Tooru replies, “We’d love to have you.”

“Yeah…” Jirou comments, “I can show you some of my other instruments and some other things I wrote, besides the song for the festival—”

“You wrote that?!”

“She totally did.” Momo replies, “and she has a ton of music and whatnot. The others wouldn’t mind either.”

“If I’m not swamped with other work then yeah, I’ll come.” You decide.

Tooru squeals, “We’re going to have so much fun Y/N! Just you wait!”

===

Come Friday, your teachers hadn’t given you any more big assignments. Chapters to read and worksheets to fill out were expected, but nothing would be too time-consuming. In other words, you were free to attend the Class 2-A Girl’s Night.

All of the dorms are in the same corner of campus. Though, because the 2-A dorm was for Heroics and not Support, your dorm is still a ways away from theirs. And since you don’t want to be late, you head early.

The sun’s starting to set. But unlike your hometown, you aren’t overly cautious about walking around during this time. U.A. itself is surrounded by a massive gate and the sidewalks are well-lit. Plus, Pro Heroes are on campus 24/7.

It doesn’t matter that you’re quirkless. You’re safe here.

The sunset never lasts long. So as it's in its final moments, you knock on the door to 2-A’s dorm. It’s identical to the support class dorms. Some support class students tried to say that future heroes would get better dorms. The evidence against it is right in front of you, right down to the loud, chaotic sound emanating from the inside.

You knock at the door, even though you don’t think it would be heard. After another knock, you go for the doorknob. The dorms aren’t allowed to be locked unless there is a villain attack. So you aren’t surprised when you’re able to open the door for yourself.

The future heroes you’ve watched train and design costumes for are sitting there, in various groups. Names don’t really come to mind—except for Tooru, who is sitting on one of the green couches.

“Y/N!” She jumps up and grabs your arm, dragging you towards the elevator before anyone else can see you “C’mon!”

Your bag is secured on your shoulder though you still put your other hand upon it, in order to not lose it. The speed and strength of Tooru is unexpected, but she is a hero student after all.

The elevator ride up to Kyoka’s floor and the couple of steps to her room is over before you notice. Inside are instruments lining most of the wall—more instruments than you could ever learn in a lifetime. The red is an unexpected color, considering that her hero suit is black and pink, but you think this suits her better.

“You must be Y/N!” The pink girl with horns bolts up. Ashido? You think. The names of everyone don’t stick immediately. “I’m Alien Queen! But you can call me Mina! You’re so much prettier than they say!”

“Who says—” You get interrupted by one of the other girls sharing an (out of place) bean bag chair, “Hi! I’m Ochako and this is Tsu. Pizza?”

The other girl—Tsu—passes a pizza box towards you, “Kero.”

“Oh no thanks. I ate back with my class.” You reply, reaching into your bag, “Oh and Yaomomo, I have your completed costume.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up at the completed costume. “I’m gonna be right back, let's see how it fits!”

Momo’s in and out of Jirou’s bathroom quickly. When she returns, every piece of the costume is on and she’s modelling it for the other girls.

“I love it, Y/N!”

Ochako asks, “You designed that?”

“And built it.” You add.

Mina exclaims, “Girl, me next! I’ve been dying for a new suit. They didn’t let us change much for our winter costumes and I’m already sick of mine! Camo? What was I even thinking!”

“I’ll make note of that…”

The conversation shifts and soon you’re asked more and more questions. Favorite color? Why did you join the support department? Crushes? Your past? Your future? Sure, the other girls answer, but you wouldn’t be able to remember their answers if you tried. But they will remember yours.

A knock comes from the door and Yaoyorozu—still in her new hero costume—jumps up to get it.

“Hey, Tenya just wanted to remind you all that the kitchen’s about to close if you all need anything.” The green-haired boy comments, “Thought you all would like to know.”

You look around the spread. A bag of chips is in your lap at the moment, but food and drinks litter the floor.

“Not really, but thanks though.” Momo replies.

Midoriya says something else, but you aren’t really paying attention. In all honesty, you don’t know what you're doing here. A quirkless support student shouldn’t be hanging around with the next hero generation.

“But like, Ectoplasm giving us an essay is like, so dumb.” Tooru complains, “I mean, who even gives essays in math!”

“Honestly, it’s better than actual math work.” Ochako counters.

You stare up at the ceiling. If they’re calling for you, you don’t hear it. Eventually, your eyes get heavy and you start to tire out. The bag of chips are still in your lap and your head’s in Mina’s lap, but it doesn’t matter. Besides, the fastest way to get through girl’s night is sleeping through it.

[earthfire-75]

You Send Me Flying

(Author’s notes: written with @nature-and-music, beta’ed by @lady-jane-revisited. Warnings: language, smut will come later)

I don't want to make a habit of this

But seeing you is like getting a fix

Every time I kid myself; I'll never do it again

Definition of love on a cliff

A lemming has no alternative

I want to die in your arms

That's my suicide wish

Chapter One:

I’m at a party with Vince where he’s playing with his band, Rock Candy. We had gone to school together, along with Tommy, who we hadn’t seen or heard from since graduation. That’s about to change.

I’m talking with some of the guests around me when the singer’s set is over and start to excuse myself so I can join him at the bar. I’m getting better about being more social, but sometimes it’s still a little overwhelming. The next thing I hear is a familiar voice greeting Vince. I turn around just in time to see him hugging Tommy. When they pull away, I jump up to hug the other man in a bear hug.

“Tommy! I’ve missed you!” then I smack his shoulder, hard. “Where the hell have you been?!”

“Ow,” Tommy whined, rubbing his shoulder. “Trying to start a band, man! Damn, you hit hard!” His eyes light up and he pulls a tape out of his jacket pocket. “That reminds me! Vince, we still need a singer,” Tommy says, handing the tape over. “Give it a listen, will ya?”

Vince hesitantly takes the tape, asking who else is in the band. Tommy happily points out the other two who came with him. I lean toward Tommy, getting a better look. Both men are cute, but I have a weak spot for blue eyes.

“Who’s the short one?” I ask.

“Dude, no way!” Tommy laughs. “He’s like… old!”

“He doesn’t look that old! Plus, you know I have a thing for blue eyes.” I whispered that last part so only Tommy and Vince could hear. I look over at them again and I see him looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Had he heard us anyway?

“Gross,” Tommy mutters before turning his attention back to Vince. “Just give the tape a listen, man. There’s a number on it where you can reach us.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll listen to it tonight.”

After a quick goodbye, I couldn’t help myself, watching the “old man” walk away. Vince laughs beside me. “You finally found someone you’re willing to give it up for?”

“Shut up, Blondie!”

About a week later, after convincing Vince to actually listen to the tape, we went to audition. Well, he did, I went for moral support. His girlfriend came too, who acted like a bitch from the moment we got there. She completely ignores Nikki’s greeting and then just stands there looking at them, half in disgust. I shake the bassist's hand in formal greeting, as does Vince.

“Nikki Sixx,” he addresses with a wide smile, then pointing to the “old man” as he plugged in his guitar. “That’s Mick Mars right there.”

He nodded his head as he adjusted his guitar strap comfortably upon his shoulder. I gave him a little smile, but his focus was on his instrument, something that I could understand.

Nikki tapped on my shoulder, “There’s some beer in the fridge if you want some.”

I thanked him and as I headed towards the kitchen, I couldn’t help but overhear Vince asking what was the matter to his girlfriend. Her response was something along the lines of making sure that the rest of the guys were good enough to play with him. The silence in the apartment was so prevalent that one could hear a pin drop after such a remark. I rolled my eyes as I cracked open the bottle cap, making my way back to the living room. The first strum of Mick’s guitar made my heart stop for a split second, the same feeling intensified when Tommy and Nikki played along as well. The vocals from Vince that came in seconds later really boosted their sound. I rested my back against the wall as I heard them play. However things came to halt when Vince’s girl told them to stop, commenting that their music was “too heavy.”

“Hey, how about giving him an actual chance?!” I asked a little more angrily than I intended. Then I turned to Vince. “You got this.”

The boys talked amongst themselves about changing up the tuning and tempo, Nikki recommending to Vince about where he could really push it vocally. Next thing we knew, the four of them practically created an earthquake, their little session could have brought the roof down! We were shocked and amazed at how incredible they sounded. It was heavy and just the right amount of aggressive. I clapped after they completed their song and exclaimed that they sounded amazing!

Tommy was ecstatic as he stood up and gave Vince a high five, “Fuck yeah dude! You sound amazing!”

Nikki appeared as if the wheels in his head were turning, reflecting on what just occurred in the last few minutes, meanwhile Mick simply stood there as if nothing happened. Tommy ran to the fridge to grab everyone a celebratory drink.

Nikki groaned, “Dude, come on, we need to save those for later-”

Tommy ignored his unfinished remark as he passed the bottles around, “That was crazy, Vince you sounded awesome! And Mick, holy shit, I’ve never heard guitar playing like that before!”

Mick shrugged as he took a gulp of his drink, “Whatever, come on we have more to work on.” He kept his head down and strummed the strings, although I could see a little smile pulling at his lips. “Alright, what’s next Nikki?”

The bassist turned to the band and so they played another tune, this time even louder and heavier than the previous one. The banging from the annoyed neighbors downstairs could barely be heard, although I could definitely feel the pounding from below my feet. I couldn’t help but get lost in their sound as I watched them, especially the way Mick’s fingers would manipulate and pull at the strings. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn that he looked at me for a brief second. Regardless of what I thought I saw, the musicians played one more song, one that was a little slower, yet still could pack a punch musically and lyrically. Tommy would perform a little trick where he would twirl his drum sticks when the timing seemed right, Nikki would put his best foot forward as he plucked the strings of his bass, Vince would proceed to move his body the way a snake slithers across the grass, and Mick had loosened up a bit himself. The guitarist would lean forward, pointing the neck of his instrument away from him and mimicking a shooting- like motion.

Now it was time for a break, they all congregated in the kitchen and helped themselves to another round of drinks. Even Vince’s girlfriend was more or less slowly warming up to the rest of the band. Although I could see from the looks on Nikki’s and Mick’s faces that they weren’t the least bit interested in her being around them with the attitude she gave them earlier. Mick looked over to me and I could see that little smirk again, but he actually kept it this time.

“So what do you think? About the music?” he asked.

I smiled, “You guys sounded amazing. I’ve never heard anything like it before. I don’t even think the punk music scene sounds this hard.”

Nikki interjected, “Yeah, well that’s them, not us.”

“Is that your best attempt at a ‘thank you’ Nikki?” I pondered with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” he responded with a chortle.

Vince’s girlfriend took her man by the arm, “Vince, can you step outside for a second? I want to talk to you.”

The poor man had no choice but to follow, giving us a nod and to let us know that he’d be back shortly. Once she was out of sight, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

“Hate to be him,” Nikki mentioned, causing Tommy to snicker. He turned to me, “Listen, we got to practice a bit more, but you're welcome to stay if you want to.”

I smiled and nodded, “Cool man, yeah I’d like that.”

Tommy sat up on the countertop, dangling his long legs as he took another swig, “Cool! So where are we gonna play first? I hope it’s not gonna be a bunch of pool parties or gyms.”

I rested against the fridge, “I think you guys need a name first, Tommy.”

“We’re gonna work on that tonight, as soon as Vince gets his ass back here,” Nikki noted. “And hey, when we get our first gig, you can come too. But the bitch ain’t coming.”

We could all wholeheartedly agree on that matter.

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick @gothicfuneralsblog @thesmokingguns

[meher-sumedha]

Gwynriel : She breaks up with one of us, she breaks up with all of us.

Over the last 3 months, Gwyn had grown very close with Elain. They even considered each other sisters. Elain had even started coming to training, but she had backed out after a week, for being a valkyrie, was not for her.

Elain and Azriel had also grown closer to each other. Even though, they had been dating since 3 months only, the had had sex. All thanks to the great Gwyneth Berdara, who had practically begged Rhysand to let them date each other.

Gwyn had promised Azriel that she would find out a way for him and Elain to date, she did. But, they still had to follow rhys' condition, that they could not date each other exclusively.

Elain still had to go to the day court to spend at least 3 days with Lucien, they had become good friends now, or as Rhysand thought.

Elain was, well, she had started to grow a liking for Lucien. She noticed that even though he was shy in front of the inner circle, he just wouldn't shut up in front of her. Elain knew there was some kind of relationship between Helion and Lucien, as they often went to the day court, but she didn't press on the matter. She was impressed about the amount of sarcastic jokes Lucien could make.

He told her his idol was "Chandler Bing", one of the characters from a human sitcom. He said he was the king of sarcasm, and after watching 10 seasons of the show, Elain too realized that. Every time Elain visited him, they watched at least one episode from the sitcom. And if they really really liked the episode, they would re watch it and would enact as characters. Elain had a lot of fun, especially as she could be herself around him.

She didn't have to pretend to like anything, and didn't have to do anything to impress him. Sometimes she would catch him staring at her during the sitcom, she never said anything, not until today :

"You're staring" She said, trying to stop the smile tugging at her lips, her eyes still on the television. Yet, from the corner of her eye she could see Lucien's cheeks had become the colour of his hair.

"Am not" He said, his voice sounding a little shy, which led to Elain chuckling a bit and looking at him, only to find he was still staring at her. They were currently watching the episode, "The one with the proposal" and both Chandler and Monica were on their knees.

Elain didn't back down from his stare, she kept looking at him. But she couldn't help glancing at his lips once or twice. They were sitting extremely close today for some reason.

And if they moved a bit closer, their lips would touch. Lucien was too staring at her lips now, and Monica was happy crying. Gods! He was looking good today. Elain knew she shouldn't do anything, that she was still in a relationship with Azriel, but she couldn't help but lean in slowly, and touch his lips with hers.

Elain started kissing him, but he didn't move, he didn't kiss her back, and just when she was gonna give up and move back, his hand strangled her hair and tilted her head in a way so that he could kiss her in a better manner.

Fireworks started exploding everywhere, Elain had never felt such a thing while kissing anyone, not even Azriel.

And that one kiss, had led to another and another and something else.

(Gwynriel starts from here)

And now, Elain was on her way to break up with Azriel. She'd been seeing Lucien since a month now, which meant only three days. But in those three days, she had never been happier, and she wanted nothing more, than to spend time with her mate.

With Azriel it had always been about him, what he liked. And Gwyn would always be the one to tell her that. What kind of flowers, instruments, sleeping positions, and whatnot Azriel liked. But Elain didn't find it creepy, as she knew Azriel and Gwyn were best friends.

But she always had the pressure of being with Azriel, it was like she was a puppet who had to do exactly as told. Now, she had had enough, and was gonna tell him, that she wants to break up.

Well not before telling Gwyn. Elain and Gwyn were sitting in the House of Wind's library. They were reading a book, Elain opened her mouth to speak a few times but then shut it.

Until she finally gathered the courage to speak, "I need to tell you something", "Okay" Gwyn replied, not looking up from her book. "I need you to be quiet about it", Gwyn looked at Elain and said, "When am I not?"

"Literally never" Elain said and Gwyn rolled her eyes. Elain continued, "I wanna break up with Azriel", "WHAT", "WAY TO BE QUIET" Elain shouted back and Gwyn took a long breath.

"Why do you wanna break up with Az?" Asked Gwyn after calming herself down. After Elain kept quiet for a few minutes, Gwyn finally understood, "oh, Oh, OH! YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH LUCIEN", "I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH LUCIEN", "THEN WHY DO YOU WANNA BREAK UP WITH AZ".

"BECAUSE I CAN'T-I CAN'T BE MYSELF AROUND HIM!." Gwyn opened her mouth but Elain continued, "ALL THE TIME GWYN, ALL THE FUCKING TIME! YOU'RE TELLING ME WHAT TO DO, WHAT HIS FAVOURITE THINGS ARE, WHAT HE LIKES TO DO! WELL I CAN'T DO ALL THAT, I CAN ONLY BE MY SHITTY SELF AROUND LUCIEN AND NOT AZ CAUSE I'VE GOT SO MUCH PRESSURE! FROM YOU, FROM NESTA, FROM RHYS AND WHAT NOT. IT'S-it's too much for me Gwyn, I-I'm sorry".

And then Elain left, leaving Gwyn with guilt of being a bad friend. Gwyn was upset, and when she thought she couldn't be more upset, she sensed the shadowsinger around her.

Azriel paced to his room, knowing that Gwyn was following him, he still slammed the door shut, and the tears he'd been fighting finally came loose.

Even though he slammed the door in her face, Gwyn still came in his room after a few minutes. He was sitting on the floor, with his back resting on the side of the bed.

Gwyn didn't know what to do, so she just sat on the floor, beside him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Gwyn noticed there was something in his hand that was resting on the floor. She took his hands, and opened its fist, only to see a ring box.

Gwyn gaped at the box and Azriel let out a dark chuckle, his sobs had stopped now. "You were going, to propose?" And Azriel chuckled once again, but that chuckle was muffled by a sob.

Gwyn didn't know how to react, "YOU'VE BEEN DATING FOR THREE MONTHS" Gwyn shouted at him, clearly angry and surprised by his stupidity. Azriel didn't say anything. He just brought the ring box closer to his chest, and opened it.

That ring. Gwyn could have sworn all the diamonds of the world were present in that ring. Azriel just took the ring out of the ring box, and looked at it, a sad smile on his face.

Gwyn just stared at the ring, not able to form any words. And then Azriel asked, "Do you think she would've liked it?" and offered it to Gwyn to look at. Gwyn was silent for a while and then said, "No" and Azriel chuckled.

"Why not?" He tried to be amusing, but his voice still broke. And then Gwyn looked at him with an emotion in her eyes, that even Azriel could not recognize, "Because if she loved you, she would never want such an expensive ring. She would want you to save money for your future with her instead".

And then Azriel smiled, a genuine smile, but a sad one. And then he said, "It was good while it lasted" while not breaking his eye contact with Gwyn, and then Gwyn repeated, "It was good while it lasted".

And then ice creams appeared at both their sides and they both chuckled, Gwyn opened hers and it was Belgium Chocolate. And Azriel opened his and it was Dark chocolate. The house also provided them with brownies to eat.

They both chuckled and sat there the entire night, stealing bites from each other's ice cream. And contemplating whose heart ache was worse :

"Well I lost a future wife" Azriel said and stole a bite of Gwyn's ice cream and mixed with his own. Gwyn tried to move away but he still got the bite anyway.

"Well I lost a friend". Azriel was not even listening to her at the moment, just trying to take bites of her ice cream.

He then took another bite and at this time, Gwyn didn't even try to move away, she just stole one bite of his ice cream and then made a face, "How can you eat such ice cream? It has no sugar!" which led to Azriel laugh, a full and real laugh. Gwyn just looked at him, and burst out laughing as well.

*It took me 2 hours to write this. It is currently 4am in the morning. ANYWAYS, hope you liked it. And I may not be online this month a lot as I have my mid terms coming up. ANYWAYS, this was ONE LONG headcanon, and I hope it fulfilled your quota. BUT, I hope y'all won't stop writing headcanons as I may not write any BUT I read ALOT. ANYWAYS, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Skin

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary:Angel gets to see your dancing skills.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Inspired by a conversation with @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​. Also a special dedication to @starrynite7114​

I strongly suggest listening to Rihanna’s Skin while reading.

Coco was dragging the Mayans to a dance studio. The girl he was seeing at the time invited him to see her routine. “I don’t understand why we don’t just go to a strip club.” Gilly complained as they made their way through the parking lot. “This is free, man! They may not be naked, but you might get a lap dance. Now stop complaining!” Coco stomped out his cigarette and put some pep in his step.

Trish and her group just finished performing their rendition and now it was your group’s turn. “Oh, there he is!” Crystal whispered excitedly to you. Turning around you saw Coco waving at Crystal with the rest of the Mayans behind him.

Immediately, you started freaking out. None of them could see you like this. Especially, your best friend Angel. They all thought you were an innocent schoolteacher, not some dancing vixen.

You went out to seek reprieve from your other best friend and dance instructor, but she was already shaking her head no. “C’mon Nic, please! You perform with the group!”

“Nope! This is kismet. The forces at be wants you and Angel to bang and who am I to deny them?” Before you could stop her, she began to introduce you and your group. “Anddd, we have a special little treat,” Nikki stood behind you and clipped the microphone to the bottoms under your sweatpants. “Miss. Y/N here will be singing as well as dancing.”

Angel quirked an eyebrow at you saying, “Really?” In return you gave him a small smile and shrugged.

As the best starts, the dance studio dims to a blueish purple color, setting the mood that you’re singing about. The further along the song played, the more you got into it and stopped worrying about what Angel would think. Usually, you would find an unsuspecting target to sing and dance to, but instinctively you zeroed in on Angel. Tonight, he was gonna be the object of your desire.

I got a secret that I wanna show you, oh

I got a secret so, I'mma drop em to the floor, oh

You teased as if you were gonna strip out of your sweats and when you didn’t you swore you heard Angel say ‘fuck’. His eyes got fiery and you knew you had him under your spell, so you gave him a sly little smile. Angel raised another eyebrow saying, ‘You better quit while you’re ahead’, but did you listen? Hell no!

Go deep, I'mma throw it at you Can you catch it? Don't hold back You know I like it rough

You hit the squat, tugged on your own hair and bit your lip. “Oh shit!” Coco was there for Crystal, but he couldn’t help but be entranced by you. Angel hit him in his stomach when he caught him lurking at you too long for his tastes. “Look at your own fucking girl.”

“Hate to break it to you mano, but everyone’s staring at your girl.” Angel looked around and Coco was right. His brothers were getting their eyeful of you, even his baby brother. “Really, Ezekiel?”

“Sorry man. It’s like she’s a fucking siren.” They were so consumed with arguing within themselves they didn’t notice that you were slowly strutting towards Angel.

So why you standin' over there witcha clothes on?

Baby, strip down for me, go on, take 'em off

Don't worry, baby, I'mma meet you halfway

'Cause I know you wanna see me

Angel held his breath as he watched your body move towards him. He always knew you had a banging body, but the way you moved confirmed it. His eyes followed every little move you made.

Almost there (ha, ha)

So baby don't stop what you're doing (Uh-huh, ah)

Softer than a mutha, boy, I know you wanna touch

Breathing down my neck, I can tell you wanna (No-o-ow)

Finally, you were close to Angel. You had sung into his ear as you slid your hand down his chest to his sizable crotch. “Querida, you’re playing a dangerous fucking game. You better be sure you can handle the consequences.” Oh, he was really pissed, but not as pissed as he was about to be.

I got a secret that I wanna show you, oh

I got a secret so, I'mma drop em to the floor, oh

Unlike the other time, you weren’t a tease and took off your sweats and over shirt, revealing solid black bikini bottoms covered in fishnet shorts with a black bikini top to match.

No heels, no shirt, no skirt, all I'm in is just skin

No jeans, take 'em off, wanna feel your skin

You a beast, oh, you know that I like that skin

Come here baby, all I wanna see you in is just skin

O-o-oh, oh, oh, oh your skin

O-o-oh, oh, oh, oh just skin

O-o-oh, oh, oh, oh, I'm lovin' your skin

Oh, oh

The male dancers joined in and it was practically dry humping to Angel. The chemistry between you and your partner had him seething. To Angel it seemed that if your dance partner could, he would’ve fucked you right then and there. “Imma kill him,” Angel muttered to himself.

“Calm down, playboy. Look,” EZ pointed out to you walking towards him again.

All I wanna see you in is just skin

All I wanna see you in is just skin

Oooh

All I wanna see you in

All I wanna see you in is your skin, oh

You circled around Angel as if he was your prey, but in reality, you were his. He’d have to show you as soon as this song was over. His eyes followed you as you circled him. He wasn’t missing one second of this. As you surrounded him you took off his kutte and put it on yourself. Angel knew he was gonna fuck you once he saw you started dancing, but when you put his kutte on he knew he was gonna fuck you while you wear that and nothing else.

The song continued to slow down, and you slid your back against Angel’s front as if he were a human pole. “Y/N,” he growled, warning you, but you weren’t listening.

You were no longer singing, but the instrumental kept playing. The outro was freestyle, so you let the music flow through you and did whatever came to you naturally. And naturally you wanted to tease Angel. Since you near the ground, you slid down to your chest to arch your back. To go a bit further, you slid your hand under your body to grab your clothed pussy.

You couldn’t see, but you could hear the little commotion of the Mayans behind you. It sounded like Angel was ready to snatch you right off the floor and the others had to stop him.

Rolling over your head, you hit the splits which earned you cheers from the other dancers. Looking over your shoulder at Angel while biting your lip, you bounced up and down. He tilted his head at you and clenched his fists. You could tell he was hanging on by a thread, but you just weren’t through with him yet.

Crystal and you got together and began grinding on one another until you got into a squat, twerking on one another. But this time your eyes were on Coco. When Angel saw he wasn’t in your eyesight, he moved to stand in front of Coco. “Angel, move! I can’t help it if Y/N wants to look at a real man,” he teased. “Man, fuck you!”

You could see that Angel could possibly start wrestling Coco, so you removed yourself from Crystal and started popping one butt cheek at a time. That kept Angel’s attention until the song was over.

Everyone applauded your group. Yahir, your dance partner came and gave you a hug. “Damn, Y/N you did the damn thing!”

“Thanks! You weren’t too bad,” you joked, nudging his shoulder. Your conversation didn’t last too long because Angel with your duffel came and interrupted it. He kissed the side of your forehead and whispered into your hair only low enough for you to hear. “Tell your friend goodbye before I beat his fucking ass.”

“But I want to see everyone else dance.”

“Nah, we got some business to handle, querida.”

Yahir stretched his hand across your body to shake Angel’s hand. “You must be Angel. Y/N talks about you all the time.” Angel gave him a weak shake. “Yeah, I’m sure she does. Anyway, we gotta go.” Angel didn’t even attempt to say bye, he just drugged you to the door.

“Bye, Y/N!” Coco told you as you walked pass him and Crystal. “Bye Johnny,” you sung, giving him a flirtatious smile.

Angel tugged you even harder, making his brothers laugh at him. “Go straight home, no pit stops. Understand me?”

“Yes Angel.” You snatched your keys out of his hands. “Want your kutte back?”

“Nah,” he pressed his hands on your shoulders. “I like you in it.”

Angel kept close to you, not letting a car come in between you two as he followed behind. He even got off his bike before you were able to turn off your car. It was like he was glued to you. He was so damn close to you as you unlocked the door that you could feel his hardon.

When you finally entered your house, Angel threw your things to the side, lifted you in his arms and carried you to your room. “Yo ass like showing out, huh?”

“Angel, what are you talking about? Matter of fact put me down. Best friends don’t act like this.” You tried to wiggle your way down, but Angel held you tighter right on his erection. “Best friends also don’t grab their pussy in front of each other while singing about fucking. But I ain’t trying to be your best friend.”

“Then what are you trying to be, Angelito?”

“Your man.” His lips hovered over yours. “Hmm, I don’t know if I want that. I know Crystal doesn’t mind sharing, so there would be no problem for me getting at Coco.”

Angel threw you on the bed and ripped your fishnet shorts and bikini bottoms. His tongue surrounded your clit. He suckled on it like he was eating a peach. “Angel!” You wrapped your hands in his ebony hair, pulling on it when he wouldn’t give you release.

He lifted his head and licked his lips. “It ain’t nice to tease, is it?”

“No,” you cried out. “Then who’s pussy is this?”

You should’ve just let it go and comply, but your whole friendship with Angel was built on teasing and you weren’t about to stop it now. “Mm, I’m still stuck between Coco and Yahir. Maybe I’m leaning more towards Yahir. Did you see how he practically pounded my pus-”

Angel caught you off with his dick. Now you were a mumbling mess. “Huh, what was that mami?” He cupped his ear, pinning you down with his other hand. Still no words could be formed. Never in your life have you had the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. Angel was stretching you out in all the the right ways. “Angel, please. Move.” You were gripping onto his wrist from how intense he felt.

“Nah, not until you tell me who this sweet pussy belongs to.” It was killing Angel not to move, but he knew he had to wait you out. “Shit, Angel you! You own this pussy, my body, my heart!”

A lone tear fell down Angel’s cheek. “I love you, Y/N. Always have. Let me show you.” Angel began moving, giving you slow, deep powerful strokes.

Cupping his face, you leaned up to kiss him. “I love you, Angel.”

Your proclamation drove Angel crazy. It was the words he’s been waiting years to hear. He tore his kutte and your top off your body and flipped you over on your knees. “Give me that arch that you were throwing in my face earlier,” Angel ordered with a smack to your ass.

A thrill ran through you, but you were a little upset that he took his kutte off you. “I thought you wanted to fuck me with your kutte on.” You looked behind you and shook your ass a little.

Angel kissed you down your spine, making you shiver with each one. “We got time for that later. Right now I need to feel your skin against mines.” Angel slid right in, causing you and Angel to spill out a harmonious, “Fuck.”

This time Angel fucked you faster, but still hitting you deep. “Look at my dirty little puta creaming all over my cock.”

“Angel,” you whined, reaching behind you, trying to push him away. It was too much. He was too much. The pleasure, the ecstasy was overcoming you.

Angel grabbed both of your wrists and held them with one of his hands. “Nah, take this dick. Keep that same energy you had earlier.”

He was brutal with how good he was making your body feel. Every time he felt you lose a bit of your arch, Angel would pull out of you until it was just like he liked it. “Don’t be getting lazy on me now.”

“Please, daddy! Let me cum!” You begged on the verge of tears. “Only because you asked nicely.” Angel let go of your wrists and snaked his hand under you to rub on your clit. The added pressure had you falling apart, screaming Angel’s name.

“Shit, querida, I’m cumming.” Angel pulled out of you, jerking himself off until his seed coated your back. He got all primal and possessive when he saw you covered in his cum. You felt Angel fingers dip into his cum on your back. “Angel, what are you doing?” You asked tiredly. “Just making you mines.” He snapped a picture of his work and showed it to you.

With all the energy you could muster up you turned towards him and rolled your eyes. “Really, Angel? AIR?”

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “There wasn’t enough for Angel Ignacio Reyes.” Throwing a pillow at him, you hit him in the face. “I hate you!”

“I love you, too,” he chuckled, pulling you both to lay down and get some rest before round 2.

Tags: @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @bigsisbria​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @sadeyesgf​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @angelreyesgirl​ @woahitslucyylu​ @thickemadame​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @angrythingstarlight​ @imanerdychubbyqueen​

[aremiies]

DRUMMER BOY.

pairings: drummer!bakugou x gn!leadsinger!reader

warnings: swearing, fluff, incorrect!bakugou (i think), bad writing

other: band au. song prompt (i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.)

notes: long over due part two, ik, ik. even though the first part of this was a fem!reader, i wanted to make this gn. ok thats it, enjoy <3

part one .

not my gif !

—

it’s been less than a month after the bands gig at rolling red, and they’d all begged you to stay. after the performance, an owner of another lounge had asked for you guys to play at his establishment. of course, you all said yes and now you had three weeks until you played there. all had been going pretty well. you, mina and jirou were working on a new song to sing since you thought repetitiveness with your performances may give you a bad rep. the three of you sat in the break room of the music store brainstorming. it was quiet; the only sound being the soft tapping of the mechanical pencil on the notepad in front of you.

mina broke the somewhat silences when she threw her arms up in frustration, “ugh! i cant think of anything else!”

“yeah,” you nodded in agreement “neither can i...”

“okay, we’ve been thinking about this for a while, i think we deserve a break. c’mon let’s go see what the guys are doing.” jirou suggested after a few more moments. you and mina agreed, you placed the pencil down and proceeded to the front of the store where you saw kaminari, bakugou and kiri beginning to close.

“yo, guys!” mina greeted the three, “need any help?”

over the last two or so weeks, you’d come to love the pink haired girl. her positive, bubbly attitude was exactly the thing you needed in your life sometimes. she was a breath of fresh air when you were stressed, and always knew exactly what to say when you were upset.

kaminari, who’d been sweeping the floor, turned his attention to the three of you,”oh hey guys! you were so quiet back there i forgot about you.” he chuckled.

“he’s right. i kind of forgot you three were here. did you get any good lyrics down?” kirishima added as he finished sanitizing the instruments that’d been used throughout the day.

you sighed, “we got a few lines down, but for some reason we literally can’t think of anything.” you could hear bakugou’s “tch.” from his place by the front door.

“you think you need help?” kiri asked putting down the disinfectant wipes he’d been using.

“yeah actually, do you think you guys may be able to?” jirou asked the trio, to which they obviously agreed.

the six of you then made your way to the back practice room and shut the door, this was about the time you guys had rehearsals anyway, so you were right on schedule more or less.

“okay, so this is what we have so far,” you began, sliding the notepad in the middle of the table for everyone to see.

as the boys quickly read over the lyrics, you watched bakugou’s eyebrows furrow and un-furrow. you watched as he took his bottom lip in between his teeth as if he was thinking; deciphering the lyrics, wondering what they meant.

“well first of all,” the blonde mumbled under his breath, “this is actually... okay progress. you guys have gotten pretty far with lyrics for this to be a new song.”

“thank you!” mina beamed while you just smiled at his attempt at a compliment.

“so, i’m guessing this is a love song?” kirishima spoke up.

you went stiff when you heard kiri’s question. you wouldn’t say love, no, that would be way too strong of a word for your liking. you thought of it more of having a somewhat pining for someone you found attractive; in both ways, not just one.

you felt mina and jirou look over to you, waiting on you to answer. 

you let a nervous chuckle escape your lips, “w-well... i don’t know, i wouldn’t call it a love song-”

“oh, come on. the phrase ‘i wanna be yours’ ? that tells me everything i need to know honestly.” kaminari teased.

“no, no, it’s just.. no. it’s just a song.” you tried to explain.

“the lyrics are nothing short of what someone would write when they’re in love.” kiri joined in on the teasing.

“and if it’s just a song, why are the lyrics so heartfelt? these seem like you’re speaking from experience. who is it?” bakugou chimed in.

mina and jirou kept quiet, though they did have an idea or two as to who it was about. 

“okay, okay, first of all, love is way too strong of a word.” you rolled your eyes.”i prefer a somewhat attraction to said person.”

you felt your face get hotter and hotter with each second the five teens spent looking at you. so what if it was a love song? was it really that big of a deal; not that it really mattered, but you swore that if you had to endure another second of what seemed like judgmental silence, you were gonna combust.

“guys, leave the poor thing alone,” jirou and shook her head and put a hand on your shoulder.

you somewhat smiled in relief.

“let them be in love in peace!” you heard the girl finish with a teasing tone laced in her voice.

you rolled your eyes once more, “okay, okay! let’s just figure out some more lyrics.” the rest of the team agreed, scooting their chairs closer to the table as you all began to brainstorm.

 after half an hour of brainstorming and making a little more progress, bakugou spoke up, “wait- y/n, do you guys even know what you want the instrumental to sound like? do you have chords written down?” he raised a brow, waiting for your answer, though he already knew what you were going to say.

“uh.. no, we don’t, but we’re working on it.” you assured.

he gave a soft “mhm” before he tilted his head back and to the side before running a hand through his striking blonde hair, sliding the hand down to his cheek where he then began to rest his head in it. 

you watched his movements intently with your mouth slightly agape, wondering just how the hell someone could be so pretty. how he could manage to look so good doing the most mundane of things. asking yourself how could he be so mesmerizing without even trying. 

you snapped your mouth shut the second you saw his crimson eyes meet your (eye color) ones. you felt your mouth get abnormally dry as you watched him look you up and down before meeting your eyes again. you felt as if your heart was about to drop into the pit of your stomach, you were sure the others could hear it beating. it felt as if this moment had been going on for hours when it’d really only been about 15 seconds. you felt tingles flow throughout your body as you watched an almost unnoticeable smirk make it’s way across his lips. a smirk nobody else could’ve possibly seen unless they were staring at him as hard as you were. and that’s when you looked away, finally taking the liberty to compose yourself.

‘since when did any guy have this affect on me?’ you asked yourself.

when you finally zoned back in, you noticed the room was unusually quiet, you turned to look at the rest of the teens who were either focused on you, or bakugou.

oh. they noticed.

“the hell was that-?” mina spoke up, turning her head from bakugou to look over at you.

“were you guys speaking telepathically or some shit?” kaminari chimed in which earned a stifled laugh from kiri and jirou.

“staring contest.” bakugou said with a small smile patent on his lips, his eyes still trained on you features. 

you looked towards the boy once more upon hearing his voice, “yeah. exactly.”

__

about an hour later everyone had decided that it was time for the six of you to go home and get some rest. you agreed, although you somewhat wanted to continue writing, considering you made little progress today. nonetheless, you grabbed your bag and made your way out the practice room. as you made your way to the front door, you noticed that among the rest of the teens, bakugou wasn’t there. 

you furrowed your brows and stopped before turning back around towards the practice room, “hold on guys, i think i’m gonna stay a bit longer.” you notified your friends. 

upon making it back to the practice rooms, you spotted bakugou sitting in the same spot, looking over the lyrics with a pencil in his hand. you watched as he would hum something before thinking it over and writing it down. it seemed that he already had an idea of what he wanted the song to sound like. he seemed content, and you found yourself sitting there for much longer than you had originally planned. 

“hey,” you piped up.

he looked towards the door to find you leaning against the frame, “what?”

“you okay? er... need any help?” you inquired, walking over to the table and taking a spot in the chair next to him.

“i mean, i guess... i kinda got a few more things down.” he shrugged as he slid the notepad over to you and let you read what he’d wrote down.

not to say that you’d underestimated the boy, but you didn’t think that he’d grasp the theme of the song this well; you just didn’t think that it was his type of song.

“you grasped this way better than i thought you would.” you said to him.

he raised a brow, “what’d you think? that i don’t understand feelings of infatuation? love?”

“oh... no, no, no that’s not what i was tying to say at all. i’m sorry if it came off that way.”

bakugou let out a small chuckle, “i’m joking, dumbass. i understand.”

it went silent for a second before you broke it, “so you understand what the song’s about?”

“of course i do, i’m not stupid. i just wanna know who it’s about.” he turned to look at you, “who’s it about?”

once again you felt your mouth get dry and your heard your heartbeat in your ears. you felt your hands get sweaty and-

“you don’t have to answer, y’know. i can see you getting nervous.”

you made a face that said “huh?” before you answered, “i’m not.” you lied. “besides, you keep asking me who it’s about, when i feel like you have a hunch...” 

he gave you a look before chuckling a bit and looking back to the notepad in front of you. though he looked confident, he was sweating bullets. every alarm in his head was going off saying that the song was about him, not that those alarms were wrong, but he kept on thinking ‘what if they are?’ 

like i said: they weren’t.

“and if i do?” he replied.

now it was your turn to seem confident, “i would tell you to tell me who you think it is.” you said as you rested your elbow on the table and gazed at him.

bakugou felt the tips of his ears turn the lightest shade of pink as his eyes set on you and your expression. did you have any idea what you did to this poor boy?

spoiler: you did.

the both of you stared at each other in silence, just as you’d did before. you waited for bakugou to answer you, while bakugou waited for the courage he needed to do so.

“y/n,” he began

“hm?”

“me?” 

you raised a brow, “what about you?” you asked, already knowing what he meant.

“ugh i- the song... is it about me?”

“let’s finish it and maybe you’ll find out.” you tilted your head and gave him a smile before grabbing the pencil from his hand.

__

two weeks later and two days away from the gig, you and bakugou once again found yourselves in the company of just each other as you finalized the lyrics and chords to the song. 

“i really do like working with you.” you broke the silence the two of you were currently in.

bakugou nearly dropped the guitar he was sturmming, “huh? you mean like... the band?”

you shrugged, “i mean, yeah, them too, but when we stay after together? i really enjoy it.”

bakugou swallowed thickly. what was he supposed to say back? it’s not like he didn’t enjoy working one on one, quite frankly it was one of the only things he looked forward to in the day besides going home. 

“i know it’s kind of weird for me to say that, sor-”

“no.” he interrupted.

“what?”

“i mean, don’t apologize. i really like it too...” he mumbled.

a smile involuntarily made it’s way onto your face.

“also,” he continued, “your progress has been... really good... you’re doing a really good job and i just thought you should know that.”

“well that’s only because i had a really blunt, but amazing teacher to help me.” you smiled at him.

bakugou looked at you and your smile, his face softening at the sight.

since when did you become so pretty?

he spared you a glance and shook his head softly, your smile was utterly contagious.

“yeah, yeah. let’s just run through this; make sure everything’s where it needs to be.” he instructed, to which you nodded, grabbed your bass and walked over to him.

you sat down on the floor next to him then looked at him once again, waiting for his cue. bakugou looked back, having to compose himself before he got lost in your gaze.

he then gave you said cue, and the two of you strummed the beginning chords together. nothing except the comforting sounds of the notes filling the atmosphere around you two. and as the two of you continued, bakugou found a smile beginning to grow on his sharp features. he didn’t bother to try and stop it, either.

 why would he? he’d never thought that he’d enjoy these moments with you as much as he did. whenever you two would have these one on one’s, he felt as if time was of no essence; as if nothing and nobody else mattered except the two of you. by the time the song ended, the boy was full on grinning. 

“that was good!” you beamed at him, “what did you think?”

bakugou nodded, “you did- i mean we did great. it sounded amazing.”

“ready to go?” you asked as you began to pack up.

he nodded silently as he did the same.

“you don’t have to talk me home this time, i can tell you’re tired.” you told him before you exited.

“you sure?” he questioned. he would feel somewhat guilty if you were to walk home alone in the dark, but you assured him that it was okay. then, you bid your goodbye’s and you gave him a short hug, eventually the two of you locked up the store and parted ways.

--

the night of the performance, you found yourself backstage with the rest of your friends and the people on stage wrapped up their set. 

“you guys nervous?” kaminari asked as he paced back and forth, he couldn’t seem to keep himself still.

“not gonna lie...” jirou began, “kinda... i mean, this place is much bigger than the last, and who knows who could be out there.”

mina perked up, “you’re right! that’s all the more reason to do our bests. we’ve all worked our asses off these past three weeks, and it shows. it doesn’t matter how good or bad someone else thinks we sound, because at the end of the day, nobody else’s opinion matters but ours. plus we sound fucking amazing, so fuck any and everybody who says we don’t.”

“mina is right. we’ve all made amazing progress, and we sound amazing,” bakugou spoke up, “there’s no reason to be nervous. so... just don’t fuck it up on the day it actually counts.”

a couple of laughs were shared at bakugou’s attempt at a pep talk, and then, as if on cue, your band name was announced onstage, signalling for you all to come on out. you looked over at bakugou, who for some reason was already looking at you, and smiled and encouraging smile. one to which his face couldn’t help but soften at.

when the six of you made it to the front stage, there was a welcoming applause. you all waved at the faces in the crowd before taking your places and getting everything set.

moments later, you were ready, and bakugou was giving his famous drummer count off.

the beat was slow and comforting. you could hear each note that everyone was playing perfectly. you swayed to the sound the instruments made while simultaneously trying to keep the note up on your own. then, you took a step toward the microphone and began to sing the first lyrics. 

your voice come out smooth, as if it was some type of silk. although you were nervous as shit, you made it seem effortless. with mina and jirou’s supporting vocals in the background, everything sounded heavenly; just as you knew it would.

bakugou however, could only focus on the sound of your voice. he couldn’t hear anything else but the sound of you singing. in his eyes, nobody else was in the room besides you and him, and he swore thinking about the current situation in that way made him less nervous. watching you sway left and right as the next lyrics rolled off your tongue readily with your eyes closed and the stage lights shining on you just right? you looked incredible.

“secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought. maybe, i just wanna be yours,”

the sirens in the blonde boys head were once again going crazy, and as he leaned up to his mic for leading vocals, he felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. he was absolutely positive that everyone in the audience could see how hard he was staring at you.

the thoughts of your one on one’s, your smile and you in general swarmed his thoughts, and by this point, he wanted nothing more than to be yours and yours only.

“ i wanna be your setting lotion, hold your hair in deep devotion. at least as deep as the pacific ocean; i wanna be yours.”

the whole time you sang, you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, but you knew who it was. bakugou staring at you as if you might disappear if he looked away may or may not have put a tinge of confidence in your play style as well as the way you sang.

oh, and the crowd? they loved it.

the loved the song, they loved the way you all played. you all could tell they were really enjoying this.

soon the song ended and the audience gave you the applause you all deserved. you grinned as you all made your ways backstage where you all joined in a group hug. 

“oh, y/n you did great !” kirishima complimented you, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“me?! you guys sounded amazing, don’t give me all the credit !” you gushed.

eventually, the group dispersed, and bakugou saw this as his chance to approach you. he was sweating, and he had no idea if it was because of the stuffiness of the air backstage or if he was genuinely nervous about what he was planning on doing. “y/n,” he started.

you looked up from your phone, eyes brightening as they made contact with bakugou’s own, “oh, bakugou, you did really good out there y’know? you were the main one i heard when you guys did the back-up vocals. you sounded amazing.” you praised.

“oh shut up, it was all you. your voice is gorgeous, y’know.” he stated. 

you felt your cheeks heat up at his words, something about bakugou complimenting you in such a way made you feel warm inside, “thank you. that means alot coming from you.”

“i- uh... i still have one question...” the boy quipped

“go on.”

“who? who was the song about... you never told me.”

you felt a small smirk find it’s way onto your lips, “and who did you say you thought the song was about?”

bakugou swallowed hardly, “m- me.” he said, clearing his throat mid-way through.

“and what if i told you it was?” you implied, inching your face closer to his.

you watched bakugou’s cheeks turn pink before he replied, “i’d say... i wanna be yours.”

you took that as your invite to connect your lips together. the moment bakugou felt your warm lips on his, he didn’t waste another second before he kissed you back. you ran a hand up the back of his head as the kiss continued, and bakugou swore he was in heaven.

once you broke away, you looked at him with a teasing smile, “you be mine, and i’ll be yours?”

“deal.”

--

i had absolutely no idea ho to end this, but i hope you enjoyed <3

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Eight

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 8 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; extreme canon violence (gun violence, hand-to-hand, baton use, knives); strong language; mentions of drug smuggling, drugs, and human smuggling; mentions of blood and blood loss; major/minor character death (not the mains, don’t worry!); angst; gunshot wounds; heavy alcohol consumption

Word Count: 14,600+

A/N: Listen... you know damn well I had to put some American Pie lyrics in this. The reader’s and Jackeline’s relationship is not modeled after Nat and Yelena lol it was literally the biggest coincidence. 

~

MedBay - The New Compound, 2024, 1:52 pm     

     “He did what?”     

Bruce smiles sheepishly as he lugs Steve’s practically lifeless body onto one of those beige medical beds. Dr. Cho is pacing calmly around the room, getting her instruments cleaned and ready. She tries to ignore the way you’re crowding her, inspecting everything she touches and in turn is going to end up touching Steve.      

“He took a bullet for someone.”     

“And where is that someone?” you bite. You immediately want to apologize to Bruce for your tone but you’re distracted by the tiny groans of pain coming from the pale super soldier beside you. You have to look away to avoid whimpering yourself, but you can’t exactly make yourself deaf. “Don’t tell me he took a bullet for you.”     

Bruce rolls his eyes and steps to the side as Dr. Cho begins cutting away Steve’s pants. “Everyone else is on vacation. He has no one here to take a bullet for besides. It was a shitty liquor store robbery and Steve was, of course, being a hero.”      

“Where’s he hit?” you ask, heading over to grab a pair of gloves yourself. No one questions it.      

“Femoral artery. Seems like he was plugging his own wound until he could get help.”     

Dr. Cho is right. There’s a massive gash in his thigh that’s leaking excessively and the skin surrounding the wound is raised like Steve’s own fingers had plunged so deeply it left an imprint. Not only that, but his hand is covered in his blood. So is Bruce’s, you realize, because he had tried to plug the artery as well.      

“How is he not dead yet?” Dr. Cho more mutters to herself than to you guys. Steve’s head is lolling to the side and his lips are an awful shade of white. His eyes are fluttering open and closed… open… closed… and he’s still mumbling random phrases. There’s a rough tug at the bottom of your stomach that pulls and pulls and there’s a weird urge to crawl onto the table to keep Steve warm.      

“He needs blood,” you say, even though all parties in the room know that as fact.     

Bruce, however, winces. “Sam’s not even in the state right now and I don’t think we have enough time to fly him-”    

“Is he Sam’s blood type? What’s his blood type? Why can’t Bucky do it? Bucky’s in Brooklyn, he can be here in five minutes if he runs.”    

Bruce starts rummaging through the upper level shelves and freezer cabinets. “Can’t mix the serums. We’ve tried.” He finally finds the blood bags, pulling them all out and spreading them across the clean tables. “It’s - shit - do we not have?”     

Dr. Cho is now covered in blood, working as fast as she can to close the wound. “What’s his blood type?”    

Bruce repeats it out loud and watches as Dr. Cho’s face falls. “I ran out yesterday. The blood drive isn’t until this weekend. I had a patient come in yesterday, I - I ran out yesterday.”     

They seem to be having their own conversation with their eyes and are too focused on each other to see you already stripping your long-sleeve shirt and wrapping that horrible blue rubber band around your upper arm. “Me. Take mine.”    

Bruce immediately shakes his head, stuttering as he tries to remove the rubber band. “Nu-uh, I don’t know if you know this but you’re human. I need two bags, three tops. I can’t just take it all from you right now!”    

“Then get me some cookies and a juice box. I don’t care how much you have to take to make him speak a coherent sentence. Do me.”    

Bruce hesitates but he rushes to the cabinets for the needles, vials, tubes, whatever - “No, do it direct.”     

Your words startle the two doctors but they don’t question it. They hook you up and poke the needle in the first vein they find, attaching the tube instead of a single vial and direct it to Steve.      

“You sure your blood matches?”     

You give Bruce a pointed look as if that isn’t something written on your dog tags or on your weekly personal reports.      

In the end, you’re told that you gave him the equivalent of two pints of blood. Not that you were awake for the second anyway but you vaguely remember Steve’s voice ringing in your ears. You’re not awake as he regains consciousness or to witness his very confused glare at seeing you in the bed next to him.     

He swears he heard small mumblings… ‘If you die because of some highway robbery, Rogers --- I’m never gonna fucking stop bullying your grave --- haunt it’.... ‘Stay --- with me, please’.... ‘---supposed to apologize first’....   

He tests the waters, mumbling a name he only says with annoyance nowadays. But now, it’s gently said. Soft, a whisper that sounds like a fractured hymn. 

Present Day, 2025, 12:05 pm

     There isn’t a set emotion in the world that seems appropriate. What are people supposed to feel when they’re singled out and chosen to suffer a life of pain? Self-hate? Pity for themselves? Anger? Sadness? Remorse? Nothing?

You really don’t know what you’re feeling. In the middle of rubbing vaseline on your newly acquired cuts and scrapes and bandaging yourself up, biting on a belt as Bucky set your shoulder back in place, and lying with Steve discussing everything and nothing all night after your promise - well, what the hell are you supposed to feel? As inevitable as it was considering he had ordered you shot before, the one feeling you know you feel is betrayed. Because even though Ernesto has proven himself evil time and time again, to his own flesh and blood, there was still a small part in your heart that didn’t think any parent truly wanted to inflict pain on their children. And your heart keeps proving itself wrong again and again.

“You just... jumped out of the car?”

Ramirez’s voice snaps you from your inner thoughts. He was let out of custody this morning. He’s currently filling in anyone who asks about the shipment, about Ernesto’s future plans, about the role he thought he had.

“Against my better judgment, but yeah.”

He chuckles and grins like he’s a kid hearing the best story ever told. “That’s what superheroes do. At least, what I’ve seen in the movies. John Wick, Bond, esos tipos.”

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, Omar,” there’s a teasing tone, “but I’m a fucking Avenger.”

That makes him laugh louder and in turn pulls one from you. “Ya se, ya se. I’ve known you since you were born. It’s weird hearing stories about you saving the world and jumping from bombed cars.”

“Mm, wait until you hear about that time I went into space and landed on another planet. Or time traveled. Take your pick.”

He’s stunned into silence and after a few more praises, he lets you return to typing out your report. There are plenty of other agents around for him to busy himself with. The base is tiny and not at all what you expected, but it’s secure enough to fit Torres, Sam, Bucky, and about fifteen other agents as they prepare for tonight. The plan you and Steve outlined was simple: attend the wedding, butter everyone up, send Steve away to help Ernesto retrieve and move the shipment, Scott and Sam will infiltrate, Bucky would be on standby to help you fight, and the rest of the team at base will begin arrests and sweeps. If everything goes according to plan, at least.

It’s easy to speak negatively about these things - there really were only two ways this could go.

You finish your report and go to stand, only realizing a minute later walking through the base that Ramirez is following you. You send him a funny look over your shoulder and he returns with a small smile of his own.

“Tengo preguntas!”

You stop and let him catch up. “Hmm?”

“Okay,” he starts, motioning his hands wordlessly until he could form them. “Are you and the Captain actually... juntos? Or just Avenger partners?”

“That’s personal, Omar,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “But I guess? That’s weird discussing with you.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s okay, I was just curious. So, him being mad was just an act? He doesn’t really hurt and threaten you, no?” He’s treading lightly, but you can already see the cartel mind turning. He would order Steve’s execution if he had to, even if he believed it to be morally wrong in some situations.

“Never. It was just an act for Ernesto.”

“Ah, Dios. Thank goodness.”

“Yeah, keep your men in line. It’s fine.”

He chuckles at that. “And the other Avengers?”

“They’re my family, Omar,” you grin wide, waking slower for the old man to keep up. “They would never hurt me.”

“That’s good, but not what I was asking.”

“Oh?”

“What are they like?”

Handing your report to one of the agents at a handful of monitors, you laugh loudly. “Do you want to meet them officially?”

“Aye, I know my daughters would like that...”

You raise an eyebrow.

“But I would like to meet them, too.”

“That’s what I thought. C’mon.”

The rest of the team are all relaxing and discussing the past days events in the lounge area, which is really just a glorified break room. Bucky’s still in his morning sweats same as Scott, Torres is already suited up, and both Sam and Steve are wearing their Avenger gear (minus Sam’s wings and Steve’s battered shield). Steve is the first one to notice you enter and he instantly gets up from his chair to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Gross,” Bucky mumbles.

“You’ve been trying to get me a girl for over ninety years, Buck. And now that I’ve finally got someone who likes me back, you bully me for it?”

“Who’s bullin’? I said the same thing when Agent Carter smooched you in the weapon’s room and you thought you were alone.”

You pat Steve’s shoulder. “Think about it, Rogers. When Bucky settles down with someone, you have free reign.”

Steve pulls a thin smile and glances back at Bucky. “I’ll make them hate you.”

“Love and hate are the same thing, pal. It worked out for you two.”

“Okay, we’re done. Everyone, Omar wanted to formally introduce himself.”

Ramirez gives a shy wave. Torres returns it. It’s kind of hilarious to witness. Here you all are, Avengers and some standing over six feet with one of the most wanted drug lords in the world, and the all mighty drug lord is shy. 

“I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” You notice how when Ramirez speaks to strangers or those he deems good people on his side, his accent is a little thicker. It’s like he wants to speak only in Spanish other than the Spanglish you were all accustomed to. “But it really is an honor to meet you all.”

Scott is the first to stand and shake his hand. “Sorry I pointed my gun at you, man. Habit.”

Ramirez chuckles, “Sorry I broke into your room.”

Steve interjects, “Thank you, though. For telling us what more we’re fighting for.”

Ramirez nods, a solemn look spreading over his face. “The minute I found out, I didn’t know who to tell. I’m lucky you were never truly on his side.”

“And what will you do after all this is over?” Bucky stands. “How do we know we can truly trust you?”

Ramirez sneaks a glance at you and you raise your hands. “Hey, I’ve got the same questions as him.”

Ramirez must know he isn’t getting out of this one because he answers quickly. “Drugs have a market where people choose. I just meet supply and demand protocols. I don’t do the unnecessary violence or blackmail. There is no need to. People will always want drugs.”

There’s a round of agreement throughout the small room. Ramirez continues, “But smuggling humans? There is no choice, nothing moral about it, it’s evil.”

“But people get addicted to drugs. They die from them everyday,” Sam argues.

“I produce and deal what you American’s call weed. Ernesto does the big stuff, as does White. I’m,” he laughs a little. “I’m their weed guy.”

“That is true,” you confirm. You’ve moved and packaged Ramirez’s product before. “Literally just weed.”

Everyone seems deep in thought, like their processing Ramirez’s words and the weight behind them. Ramirez ran with the big boys and was the biggest distributor of marijuana in Mexico and America alike, but he never messed with any other product. Besides producing, selling, and smuggling illegal weed, his only other crimes included conspiring with Ernesto on how to get the product over state lines.

“Okay,” Steve starts. “So how is tonight gonna work? We have to discuss that.”

Ramirez bows his head. “You’ve allowed me safety, you’ve listened to me speak, and you’re saving both my life and my daughter’s. If you must arrest me, then you arrest me.”

“The minute you’re transferred to a prison with less security, Ernesto’s men will get you,” you reason, already shaking your head no.

Ramirez gives a nonchalant shrug, “But you’ll get him and White. That’s all that matters.”

You look over to Steve for some other ideas, but like you he doesn’t have any. No one seems to have any.

Torres matches his shrug and his voice is small as he speaks, almost like his next idea is insane. “We can always put him in the Raft.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide.

“That’s where all the enhanced humans go, no?” Ramirez is stunned. “Do I count?”

“We’ve got no idea,” Steve rubs at his chin, looking at you for confirmation he knows you don’t have. “But it’s an idea.”

     The plan is no longer singular. Fury had sent his best field agents for the job, the ones with the best aim, the ones with great strategic planning. Although you and Steve were still in charge, it was no longer just your mission. Your mission was to arrest the big three, big four when including Seda. That was it.

The plan goes like this: half the team will be focused on the venue itself, hidden in the shadows and monitoring the big three as well as your mics, and will aid you in the physical fight and arrests. Some are on the ground while others in the sky. Afterwards, they’ll sweep the estate and collect stolen property or priceless artworks. The other half is split into two, where one of those halves will be spread out for miles to capture anyone that might slip through, like guests who were on the most wanted list or guests that have helped Ernesto in the past. The other part of that half will intercept the shipment (once Steve radios in the location), save the hostages, and shut down the routes. 

They instruct Ramirez to call Ernesto and to ask him if there’s a vegetarian menu offered. Ernesto responds with only a muttered groan and in a wild turn of events, asks if Ramirez can call you to make sure you arrive earlier than expected to make sure Jackeline walks down that aisle. He’s completely serious. Not only does Ramirez play along, but Ernesto doesn’t give any indication that he knows about the car bomb. So the team makes a judgement call: this was only Seda’s doing.

Ramirez is then told that the Raft is not an option; both the US and Mexican government want him and the only reason he hasn’t been arrested is because he still has many cards to play. The more he helps, the less time he’ll get. 

One thing is known: this is the biggest mission anybody has been on in over two years. 

      Bucky remembers things in bits and pieces. Sometimes he’ll be minding his own business, enjoying this new world and the countless amenities it offers, and remember exactly where he was on the hottest day of the year in 1936. He remembers the blistering heat, boiling his once pale skin and giving him that beautiful olive he was now known for. He remembers the way his tongue dried almost instantly the moment he stepped outside and how he asked his next door neighbor, Ms. Kranshall, for a cup of water before work. He remembers her massive square glasses and how they nudged the tip of her nose as she nodded sweetly at him. He remembers her high but smoky voice and the way she patted his shoulder as he drank the cup down. 

The first time he remembered Natalia was around the same time he remembered Steve. He sees a flash of ember in strands, speed almost matching his, and he sees those panicked green eyes he was once all too familiar with. 

She was twelve when he first met her, forced to throw her around like a ragdoll until her ribs were bruised and her spirit broken. He went again and again, and when he wasn’t forced he would teach her how to fight properly and how to shield her most vulnerable areas. Scared as she was, she never showed it in those private moments, and decided to follow his lead in most things. And she learned to be fierce, no matter how hard he hit, and he still remembers the look in her eyes and the pull of her young face as they yanked him away for cryo before he could congratulate her on winning her first fight. 

The first time he remembered you was when you leapt onto T’Challa’s back as the chase neared, tackling the young prince become king, and watched with sad eyes as both him and Steve climbed onto the jet for Siberia. He remembers your clumsy punches when you fought him with half his brain and how he kicked you so hard you flew. He also remembers how when you took that kick for Steve, the sound of his wail almost deafened the soldier. 

Everytime he remembers something, a memory, no matter how strangled it may arise, the twinge in his chest is good. He’s remembering. He’s James Buchanan Barnes.

He feels that same twinge when a face full of freckles greets him at the entrance, documents raised above her head in a show of selfish glee, and a pep in her step that tells him she remembers him too. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” Maribel gives a toothy grin. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Bucky tilts his chin up and rests the tip of tongue between his incisors. “What? Hydra wasn’t enough for you, you gotta infiltrate the Mexican cartel, too?”

She scoffs playfully, “Other way ‘round.”

He snatches the documents from her hand and leads her inside. “I hope you got something here. Steve put a lotta faith in you.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N does. That’s enough for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she snatches the documents back to turn the pages herself. “Follow me. We need to chat in private.”

“Shouldn’t we get-”

“I’d rather you know, and you tell them later. No audience.”

This causes Bucky to tense. He follows her in further and closes the door behind them both. 

The left side of her face had less freckles back in 2012, he remembers, and now she’s covered in them.     

Bucky remembers things slowly, but he remembers them. 

      It’s cold outside, air bruising your skin, and there are hundreds of goosebumps now erupting. You joke with yourself that in the end, you’ll most likely have to ask Steve for his jacket and ruin your overall look but hey, you’ll be warm. The wedding doesn’t start until five in the evening and it’s one’oclock right now, and there are white clouds in the sky instead of gray and the songs of some desperate birds searching for their lunch near your ears. It at least drowns out the constant noise of the agents hammering away at each other and preparing for tonight.   

It makes your stomach roll: these agents are putting their lives at risk because of you. 

     You stepped through the discarded papers and tried not to leave your footprint anywhere important. His office was empty, left in a state of purgatory, and his lamp was still on. It’s like he stepped out for a minute.

You picked everything up: pens, computers, books, chairs. Under everything, there was dust. 

He really did die.

As much as you wanted to step on his remains and spit on him, you couldn’t. The gash in your heart was still open and bleeding for everyone else and there was no room left for anger. You were indifferent, for lack of a better word. Frustrated?

A paper crumbles outside his office. No one had followed you in - a week after the snap and every single person on earth was still searching for loved ones or running from something - so no, no one else was supposed to be here. Mexico had been hit hard, it’s government shattered, and every cartel was picking up pieces or tearing the world further apart. There was no line anymore. 

You twisted around and aimed your gun at the door, immediately lowering it when you saw Natasha raise her hands. She had this embarrassed smile on her face like she knew she had been caught.

“I meant to say hi over your mic. But you turned it off.”

You sighed deeply and dramatically shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I’m here. Guess who’s not.”

Natasha only nods and steps further into the room. She looks over the same things you did. “He’s gone? Good, good riddance.”

“But his death means nothing if trillions of others died also. It’s so fucking typical of him. If he’s going down, he takes everyone else with him.”

“He didn’t take them, Y/N.”

“I want to be happy,” you spit out through clenched teeth. “I want to feel relief. The fucking bastard is finally gone and I can’t even enjoy it properly.”

Natasha takes one more look at the hallway before letting her guard down almost completely. She envelopes you in a hug, squeezing tighter each time your breath hitches. “Hey, listen to me.”

“He’s gone.”

“I know,” Natasha’s voice is low and reminds you of the gentle hum of record static. “He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But everyone-”

“No,” she pulls away and places both her palms over your neck. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

It takes a while before you’re nodding along, repeating her words gently.

“You’re more than the pain he inflicted. You’re more than his name or crimes. You’re worth more than his impact ten times over. He can’t hurt you anymore. I know everyone’s gone, and we’re going to fight like hell to bring them back, but in this little moment, this little thread you can pull - pull it all out - he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would you do without Natasha?

     The grass beneath your bare feet calms you down. It’s tendrils are a little ticklish and there are droplets of silver morning water fog melting as they touch your skin. Focusing on the feeling isn’t enough to get you out of your own head and for a wild second, you think the God of Thunder is going to come up behind you and hold your hand. It’s peaceful out here, but what you wouldn’t give to see him again. 

The day before Steve and Carol returned the stones, he had been here. He did as he promised: the second the flood of happiness extinguished like a Christmas candle, he found you settled in the mass of pillows with only instrumental music playing. He left for two cups of tea, sat in silence with you as you both drank, and whispered a strangled ‘I’m sorry’ as if you weren’t meant to hear it. Apologizing for someone who did come back, and you for someone who didn’t. 

‘You know I don’t regret what we did. We brought everyone back.’ 

‘Don’t try and justify your sadness. Not at all, not with me.’ His voice was stern and his eyes serious.

‘I’m sorry he didn’t come back.’

His eyes had closed, as if he was expecting that apology, and he looked out the window where the sun was just barely rising, shining on him and him alone. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

There are footsteps, though. Heavy ones, footsteps that announce his upcoming presence on purpose so as to not startle anymore. Bucky was too generous for his own good. 

“Had a visitor.”

You remain silent as Bucky sits next to you, looking up from his spot and expecting you to sit as well. “There’s water on the grass.”

“There’s water in the air in this godforsaken state, now sit down.” A push of laughter escapes your lungs but you follow his instructions anyway. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes, admiring the way the pine trees bend slightly with the gusts of wind and how the birds have changed their pitch. You expect Bucky to speak first so you occupy that time by playing with the strands of wet grass. 

“In 1997, I was taken out of cryo for a mission.”

You wince on accident. This wasn’t how you expected the conversation to start. 

Bucky continues, “There was this man south of the border.” He points south to prove his point. “Hydra wanted to take him out because he was interfering with the drug routes they were monitoring.”

“Hydra controlled drug routes?”

“Hydra had their heads in plenty of places. They didn’t control them, but they did monitor them.”

You shake your head in understanding. “And this man?”

Bucky sighs heavily. His eyes are focused on the gentle yellows behind the trees instead of you. “He was told to take out another man traveling through and out one of these drug routes. He made a different call.”

“Who was your visitor?”

“Maribel.”

“Wha-?” You go to stand but Bucky gently pushes your left shoulder back down. “Why are you telling me this and not her?”

“She wanted me to tell you. And I guess, in turn, you tell Steve and the rest of the team.”

“Bucky,” your voice trembles on accident. “Tell me.”

“The man I was ordered to take out was Maribel’s brother.” He chuckles at your frantic shuffling and pushes you down again. He continues, “Hey, it’s okay. She never knew him and she doesn’t hate me for what I was.”

You don’t really believe him. But his face isn’t telling you otherwise. You're stuck between wanting to dig for more information and giving him a giant bear hug. “Did you… succeed?”

“The soldier ever rarely lost.”

Your face contorts. “Bucky…”

“He disobeyed orders, Hydra didn’t like that since it disrupted the drug routes, and so I was sent to help. Hydra didn’t seem to care about the man he let go, though.” Bucky shrugs and starts playing with the grass behind your hand. “The thing was, Maribel’s brother had been doing this a long time. Ernesto was on Hydra’s radar but in a good way. Maribel’s brother was also given very specific orders from one other person - their mother.”

The story pieces are all discarded haphazardly, pieces that are from different boxes and don’t seem to entangle properly. 

“She told him to let the man go. Because this man was an American, and killing an American on Mexican soil was something that was impossible to hide from the claws of the law. So, this American made it back on US soil safely and was never heard from again. Until 1998, when he tried to re-enter Mexico under a false name but with one purpose. To see his newborn baby girl.”

The yellow behind the pine trees fades into orange. 

“Are you saying-?”

“Maribel’s mother kept everything your mother left her when she tried to cross the border herself. Your real birth certificate, her real birth certificate, you.”

Bucky looks over finally, sad smile and all. “Maribel thinks, and now I think, that Ernesto isn’t your real father.”

There are so many questions formulating at the base of your skull that you don’t really take the time to absorb the news. “What did she bring you? What was in those papers?”

Bucky seems startled that your reaction wasn’t one of shock. “Like I said, Maribel’s mother kept a lotta things.” He pauses momentarily before speaking again. “Blood results was one of them. Still trying to authenticate them.  The American was a doctor, after all.”

“A doctor,” you whisper. 

“A doctor. He changed his name but he’s alive. Maribel’s checked.”

“Why would she tell me this now? Why now just hours before the wedding? Isn’t that why you guys didn’t tell me about what was really in the shipment?”

Bucky winces and his expression tells you he’s sorry. 

You continue, “Why now? Why does it even matter anymore?”

He inspects you quickly, scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. “You’re okay? I thought this would surprise you more.”

The chuckle you release is dry, kind of harsh. “It actually answers a fuckload of questions. Like, number one, why he fucking hates me.”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “You think he knows?”

“If he doesn’t, then he’s a super fucking asshole instead of just a fucking asshole.”

Bucky pauses again and smiles up at the sky. The clouds are white and extra large today, and he suddenly remembers the taste of that mini popcorn he had bought and shared with his little sister Becca… Becks… while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the theater. The salt and butter had stuck to Becca’s fingers and she had wiped them on Bucky’s sweater. He remembers scolding her for that but giving her a napkin in between his giggle fit. He feels the same swell in the meat of his heart listening to you. “We don’t deserve you. You’re like the moon. Always there, shaping yourself into what that person needs, crater after crater beat into you and yet, you move the tides.”

The little snort that leaves your nose hurts a little. “That’s pretty damn poetic for this moment of ‘you’re not the father!’”

Bucky bites his lip and smiles toward the yellow and orange hues. “Like the moon.”

      The hotel had replaced the door, no questions asked. The reason Sam decided to bust open the door instead of using the very functional key you had given Torres? No one knows. But the poor receptionist was told that you couldn’t possibly change rooms because this was top secret business and you absolutely wanted to slap Scott upside the head for worrying her. So they fixed the bolts and gave you all new keys. 

Didn’t matter much anyway since you weren’t sleeping here tonight. You had already packed and made the beds. 

You lay your dress and Steve’s dress attire on the respective beds. The dress sent over was a backless red silk, spaghetti strapped and slit on the left side - you’ve wanted to wear it since it arrived when Scott did. 

Steve knocked before entering the room. You almost laughed at the gentlemanly aspect of it. “Thought for sure they’d have kept you for another hour at least.”

“I gotta change sometime. That your dress?” Steve shrugs off his uniform and climbs on top of his freshly made bed.  

“That’s my dress. Sort of skimpy for a wedding, no?” You hold it up to show him the front and back.

“Does ‘skimpy’ mean bad?”

“Means slutty.”

He gives you this disappointed look, like he’s judging your vocabulary. “I wouldn’t use that word. So no.”

You silently apologize and move the dress over to the end of your bed. Everyone else was also getting ready for tonight. Agents were posing as local police, many infiltrated the wait staff, suits were being double-checked for any malfunctions. There was so much going on, but all was relaxed in your room. Steve smiles at you from his bed, head resting in his palm as he leans up to stare at you. It’s impossible not to blush under his stare, so you move to climb into his bed. You lay down with your feet to his head, the sides of your hips pressing together; just two upside down puzzle pieces. He chuckles and goes to lay on his back, right arm coming up to lay rested on top of your right thigh. 

“All this week I thought I wasn’t ready.” You’ve had no more nightmares. “But I am. I’m ready to end this.”

He runs his fingers delicately along your thigh. “I’m ready to help.” He sighs deeply and cranes his neck to try and meet your gaze. “We’ll make sure they get maximum time.”

“You know that’s not our call.”

“Still.”

You rest for another few minutes, gentle touches calming you. His body is so warm, emitting sweet thoughts like the beginning of spring heat, and it’s impossible not to curl up into it. Steve breaks the comfortable silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You suck in a breath and tell him the truth. “That in the matter of like… five days, you and I are basically lovers now.”

“Lovers?”

“Lovers.”    

He laughs out loud and goes to sit up.  “I intend on taking you out when we get back home.”

Lifting your head, you rest on your elbows and grin at him. “Oh? And where are you planning on taking me?”

He thinks for a second before pressing his lips together and giving up. “I have to ask Peter or Wanda. I have no idea where you go during the day to eat.”

You laugh, “Seriously? I could’ve sworn you tagged along once or twice.”

“Nope. I always refused.”

You frown slightly, “Riiight.” Not wanting to rehash the reasons why, you try to soften any wrong feelings about what that implies. “I’m sure you’ve been, though. I take Bucky places, too. Ask him.”

“Mmm, I have my pride. Can’t have Bucky thinkin’ he knows more about my girl than I do.”

You smile largely now and hope no lipstick rubbed off on your teeth. “Your girl?”

Steve averts his eyes like he’s just now asking for your name and if you’d like to go dancing. There’s a beautiful scarlet glow painting his pale cheeks. “Like I said, I’m taking you out and asking properly.”

“We’ve already surpassed third base. I remember it vividly.”

His smile falls comically and he turns to grab a throw pillow to smack you with it a couple times. “Crude! Crude as always. Goddamn.”

“I’m sorry! Hey, I’m sorry!” 

He stops his attack and pulls you into his chest. He warms your back instantly. “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

“I really, really like french fries,” you hum lightly and tilt your head back to lean into his shoulder. 

“That narrows it down, thanks.”

You chuckle due to his sarcastic tone. He rubs his hands up and down your arms. An idea formulates while in the warmth of his body. “You know what I really want to do after we finish with this?”

“What’s that?”

You tell him honestly. “Rent a cabin. Spend a Christmas there, maybe. Catch some fuckin’ fish. Experience the snow properly.”

His eyebrows furrow like he’s dissecting such a claim. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug, “Sounds cool though, right?”

“Got room for one more?” He looks down to meet your gaze and there’s a glint of hope shimmering in the blue of his eyes.

       “Nat… Natasha.”

Natasha took in a sharp exhale as she lifted her head from the desk, left cheek numb and pink. Steve shot her a funny grin and continued shaking her shoulder until she fully opened her eyes. She slaps his hand away with a huff of laughter. 

“Come here to do your laundry? You know, there’s only so many times I can help prevent shrinking shirts.”

Steve scoffs, “I used to do laundry by hand. I can figure out a few buttons.”

“You would think.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with the palm of hand before speed-walking into the kitchen. “It’s one of those days.” He opens the high cabinets and pulls a few vodka bottles. 

Natasha pushes down whatever was starting to eat at her. She calms her deep breaths and rises from her chair. No words needed to be exchanged. She makes her way over to pull two glasses from the same high cabinets. 

Steve watches her a little hesitantly, but she has that lopsided smile that pinches through only one cheek and her eyes are the slightest bit swollen from her power nap, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to the other side of the kitchen, that lopsided grin gracing her bare feet. Steve fumbles through a few cleaning supplies and some plastic bags before he finds the bottle. 

“I hid it after… after Thor had that meltdown a year ago.”

Now, he was second guessing. It was a small bottle, only half left, but half a bottle of Asgardian liquor was enough to knock the God on his knees. For Steve, a few sips would do the same. But he needed it, he needed it, god help him. It’s been four years, he needs it. “Be my designated driver?”

“How about you spend the night? Y/N wanted to start a new show anyway.”

“I’ll be passed the fuck out during the opening credits.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Steve sighs and pops open the bottle. Natasha puts her hand up to stop him from pouring, “Check under that sink again.”

His eyebrows pinch together but he does as instructed. More cleaning products… more cleaning products. He tilts his head to look at the corners and there it was: a small, pink paper airplane taped mid-flight. Steve hunched his shoulders to grab it and crawled out carefully. “You know, you’re not supposed to tell me where you hide them.”

“Well, I felt bad! I’ve found like fifteen of your blue ones and how many do you have of mine?”

“That’s besides the point-”

“Say it. You’ve found six.”

His cheeks turn hot. “I’m not here all the time.”

“Excuses.”

“I leave mine in good spots. You probably got better eyes or something.”

Natasha laughs, loud and from her chest. “Sure. But hey - I’ll promise you somethin’.”

Steve pours the Asgardian liquor into his glass and straight vodka into Natasha’s. “What do you have in mind?”

“You find more than me by the end of this year, and I’ll take that vacation.”

Steve takes his first sip and tries not to pull a hard face. “You’re on. But what if you win?”

Natasha raises her glass and clinks it with his. He wants to apologize for forgetting to toast but her eyes are playful and forgiving. “You come with me. I’m not the only one who needs it.”

“So, I win regardless?”

She takes a sip and pulls a funny face. “Easiest battle, don’t ya think?”

They’re off their right minds twenty minutes into drinking and the common area is chaos. Pillows are thrown, the TV somehow ends up with dozens of fingerprints, and they’ve broken a couple flower pots. The cushions of the couch know Natasha’s bare feet and Steve’s boots; the walls fail to constrict their loud singing; Rhodey has already snuck past them to get himself a snack undetected. 

‘And so I cry sometimes when I’m lyin’ in bed, just to get it all out what’s in my head!’

‘Hit the high note, Rogers!’

‘When you do, I will!... I scream from the top of my lungs-’

‘What’s goin’ on? And I say, ‘hey!’ ‘hey!’ I say ‘hey!’ What’s goin’ on?’

Steve’s still clear-headed enough to twirl Natasha around. She’s flexible enough to climb onto his shoulders.

‘I pray every single day - for a revolution!’

She’s starting to slur her words and Steve wonders if that blond streak in her hair was there last week. 

‘The story of my life! I take her home, 

I drive all night to keep her warm and time, 

Is frozen!

The story of my life, I give her hope, 

I spend her love until she’s broke inside!

The story of my life.’

She can longer feel her toes but seeing Steve let go makes her so incredibly happy and breaks her heart. I needed this too, she thinks.

‘So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die!”’

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would Steve do without Natasha?

     “You wanna come?”

“Sure. I’ll cut down the trees for wood. Have a real fireplace.” He’s serious, you realize. Like, really truly serious. 

Your heart swells with excitement and some other feeling you can’t quite place. But it’s good, like really good. The sigh you release is full of sweet wonder. “A real Christmas tree.”

Steve tightens his grip around your arms. “December’s right around the corner. Trees should be ready and standing tall.”

It’s almost too much to imagine. You have the sudden urge to talk specifics, to plan out this vacation. A beautiful, rustic cabin with only a coffee maker brought from the outside century, knitted quilts, real snow, Steve’s body heat, Christmas lights… inviting Sam, Scott, Wanda, Peter, and Bucky down for Christmas dinner and presents. A whole sleepover filled with ghost stories, candle burning, board games, Christmas movies. You’re up and tucking your knees under yourself to look down at Steve in an instant. “You’d throw on that checkered shirt, grow out your beard even more, and chop down a few trees for me? With me?”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Steve says, eyes crinkling. For a second, he’s worried you’ll realize that he’s quoted your letter. But that same moment, you’re giggling with excitement over your future plans.

“Well, we lasted a week here without killing each other. The holidays always hold a few surprises.”

Steve picks up another pillow.

       Business is not conducted during the church service. It feels normal, with half the guests attending the service and watching the happy couple exchange vows, while the other half only arrives for the party. 

Jackeline’s dress is modern with a mix of vintage - simple, with long sleeves of lace and fabric that isn’t entirely white but with hints of beige; the dress dips lower in the back than it does in the front, and it’s tight near the waist but loose as it drapes down her long legs. Her hair is left loose and her make-up is heavy, and she illuminates under the sun rays that burst through stained cathedral glass. You don’t even pay mind to Ernesto and Seda seated in the aisle in front of you - not when Jackeline looks the way she does. 

As the service ends, Steve tells you to wait until most of the guests exit. The priest eyes him warily, inspecting his young face and build and obvious persona. He says nothing, but he places a gentle hand over the cross on his chest as he follows the guests out. Steve stands, and out of respect dips his fingers into the holy water provided near the heavy wooden doors. He signs the father, the son, and the holy ghost and dips his fingers in again to sign the same on you. With a silent thank you and tender wipe to your forehead, you don’t question it. He’s not Catholic, or at least you don’t think, but you know he does it for what’s to come. No matter your beliefs, he just wants something, someone, to protect you. You turn back to the cathedral and grip the door as you bend down to one knee and tip your head. 

       Everything is grander, that’s for sure. The decorations are tripled; the violet lights are reflecting like diamonds off every marble and glass surface; the chandelier’s are no longer gold sculptures but diamond; the clay flowers hanging from the ceiling yesterday are now a part of the centerpieces, squeezed in with the largest bouquet of roses and violets; the live bands (because of course there are two) are each still setting up as everyone is getting seated; and there are about fifty round tables circling the large dance floor. There’s still a nice view of the lake and the pine trees ahead, and the tarp was abandoned as there was no rain in the forecast. All in all, and there were a thousand other things you could focus on but didn’t have the energy to, everything was beautifully put together.

Jackeline wasn’t lying when she said half of Mexico was attending. Besides family, there were celebrities in attendance, famous musicians who were simply guests and not performing, family of some of the other biggest drug lords from both countries (minus Europe), and a couple politicians who dipped before the new couple even walked through the doors after seeing Steve. But Steve worked his magic like he had yesterday and had everyone eating out of the palm of hand in pure amazement. He even had a famous actress hanging off his shoulder in under three minutes. Walking away to go congratulate Jackeline, Steve doesn’t miss the quick, sarcastic flick of your middle finger aimed in his direction.  

“You’d tell me if you needed my help, right?” Jackeline asks after a while, bottom lip dripping champagne. She wipes it gingerly, careful not to smudge her pink lipstick. 

“I would if there was anything wrong,” you respond truthfully. She pauses to swallow her sip and squints. She follows your gaze to Steve, whose right arm is being tugged by a girl who looks about twelve with five multi-colored bows trailing down her french braid, and who is also trying hard not to blush at the very attractive actress he can’t seem to get rid of. 

“You’re going to stop him, aren’t you?”

You glance to your left, but it isn’t really a question. Jackeline knows. “Yeah.”

She nods and tilts her chin up, eyes still on Steve. “Make him watch as you burn it down.”  You know she’s referring to Ernesto. She continues, “Every last bit of it.”

Smiling down at your feet, you raise your glass at nothing in particular. Just to salute the night air and whoever is watching. A few seconds pass as you both watch the guests enjoy the music and appetizers. Jackeline shuffles in her heels but she doesn’t seem to want to leave your side just yet. “You run, you understand?”

She’s only momentarily startled by your words. “Okay.”

“I never meant to leave you here, Jackie. I just had to find a way out first.”

“You found a loophole,” she chuckles, but the next moment she’s serious. “There is no way out.”

“Might not be,” you admit, downing your glass in one shot. “But I know this. He can’t hurt you anymore.”     

      You don’t exchange more than a few words with Steve before he’s called by Ernesto’s men and motioned toward those massive dry lava rock doors; doors that don’t muffle sound but are strong enough to withstand a bullet wound. You watch him leave with them, and he shoots you a smile over his shoulder to simply look at you. Your eyes swell only slightly, burning the corners and blurring everything. He’s bright and brilliant, walking head first into Hell and shining like the bolts of Zeus.

Steve has faced giants before, from all backgrounds and all worlds. He has blocked their punches, taken near mortal injuries; stared them in the face with every ounce of anger and determination his cells could produce. There was always this whispered voice in his head that warned him of the last day he would pick up that shield. In 1945, the voice was loud and raging as he drove that nosediving plane into the Arctic. Over the last few years, however, the voice had quieted and let Steve ponder his fate himself. Steve swears the voice, or rather his own conscience, is getting tired. 

He listens intently, responding only when spoken to, and prays his mic is picking up every bit of this conversation. Ernesto commanded the room as he screamed orders in both English and Spanish. His men fell in line; some as determined as the old man, some quiet, some bothered. Didn’t matter what the orders were. Steve noticed the few who would glance at one another and speak their distaste with their wandering eyes. And when Ernesto would speak directly to Steve, the same men would pinch their lips into a thin line and glare. 

The shipment had arrived mid-conversation and as men were sent out to do their jobs, Ernesto kept Steve behind. I need you to stay with me until the shipment is secure and can be moved - you’re my bodyguard, Ernesto had told him, confident and only slightly bending his back in discomfort from the weight of the day. Steve agrees, and hears Bucky mention how they have eyes on the shipment from the sky. 

Steve stays by Ernesto’s side even when Ramirez is called in. He’s prepared for a bloodbath, for two big men to cement their graves in this tiny office, but it doesn’t happen. Or at least, it doesn’t happen yet. Ernesto regards Ramirez as an old friend and finally trusts him enough to tell him what the shipment contained. Steve isn’t surprised, however, when Ernesto takes nasty satisfaction at Ramirez’s horrified expression. Because even though Ramirez had already known, the confirmation adds a multitude of terror. Steve can feel his palms sweating. 

As expected, Ernesto tells Ramirez that he plans to use his lands for his gain. The safe thing to do would have been to agree, to nod along, and to live in the knowledge that the shipment most likely wouldn’t head out. But Ramirez, for some reason Steve can’t fathom, stands up and says no. 

Steve understands now; the odd shaking of your shoulders even when your face was completely blank and emotions calm. He watches the beads of sweat drip from Ernesto’s forehead onto the tip of his nose; he watches the way his chest heaves as his voice becomes louder; he watches until he can’t take anymore and he enlarges the shield with Scott’s tech and tells Ernesto to move away from the other man. Steve understands now - the man really is scary, even if he wants to admit it or not.

      “You really are a phenomenal actor.”

Swaying slowly, you try not to step on Seda’s feet as he guides you across the dance floor. The music is calmer than it was five minutes ago, the guests are enjoying dinner and conversing, and Steve had told you fifteen minutes ago that he would be right back. Ernesto had sent you a malicious wink, but you knew better. Steve’s name was written in blue and Ernesto’s real target had to be you. 

“Acting with what? Acting that I enjoy this dance? Acting like I respect you?” Your upper lip twitches into a teasing smile. “Or acting like I don’t know it was you who planted that bomb?”

He matches your smile, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes. His grip around your waist tightens. “Acting like you’re really on our side.”

Lowering your voice just a fraction, you lean in, top of your head level with his chin. “I’m on Ernesto’s side. You almost had me and my Captain blown up.”

His left hand is settled on your shoulder and he uses the opportunity to dig his nails in. All around him, his men are watching. “How did you get away?”

You give a dry laugh. “You think that was my first bomb? It was childsplay.”

Seda scoffs, “You speak of this Avenger business like I don’t know who you are. You’re still that scared little girl who hid in her room when alien’s fell from the sky.”

“I may be. But there’s a difference between you and I. I actually stared them in this face and won.”

“The second time, maybe”

Sticks and stones, but goddamn did those words always hurt. Blame goes a long way but you and your team are used to keeping it close to home. “Why do you want me dead?”

His scowl deepens and the wrinkles by his eyes crinkle over each other as he squints down at you. “The Avengers are not secretly on our side. Tony Stark never was but Ernesto loves to tell people otherwise. Same about your Captain. You’ve been playing us for years.”

“What evidence do you even have? For years, we’ve done nothing but clear the roads for you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. 

He unwraps his arm from around your waist and sets both hands around your upper arms. He’s pressing down as hard as he can but still loose enough not to draw unwanted attention. He breathes a sharp exhale, and the puff of air hits your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to my men after you got what you deserved. They were good men and just like that, erased.” He smirks. “I know you had something to do with it.”

A guest with bright red hair laughs loudly to your side as she is twirled around by her partner. It’s not as vibrant as you’re used to, but you still imagine that lopsided smile you hadn’t seen in forever. “Does it matter? You know what they did, so why is my hypothetical revenge chastised?”

“Tell me right now that none of your Avenger friends did your dirty work. Tell me your Captain’s hands are clean.”

“I promise you, my Captain is clean.” Seda doesn’t show any signs of believing you. Still, your mouth twitches into a mocking smirk. “But our once mutual friends Tony and Natalia tell another story.”

“Am I supposed to believe that two people who are dead are responsible for this? Ironic,” he grits his teeth.

You repeat, clear and true. “My Captain is clean.”

He fakes a tiny gag but you know he means his disgust. “You turned over so quickly for him. For the heroes who destroyed the world. Pathetic.”

“You really need to stop underestimating me,” you practically order, voice full of warning and annoyance. 

Seda continues, “Following orders from a fascist. Following orders from a country that only does harm.”

He turns you around as the dance instructs, a half-hearted waltz that didn’t have a beginning, middle, or end. You take that second to scan your surroundings and weigh your options. “I agree about the country part. But I don’t follow orders from the country, I follow them from my Captain.”

You’re facing him again and in those hellish eyes you see truth. “No, he’s a symbol of everything we hate. Of everything we need to destroy.”

“Touch Steve and I’ll blind you.”

His feet stop mid-step, as do yours. His eyes widen only a little, but it’s all the ammunition he needs. “I knew it.”

It’s barely a whisper, a tickle from a single strand of hair, but you catch it. No longer keeping it a secret, or rather a secret you didn’t care that you let slip, Seda now knows it was all a lie. All this time you had never referred to Steve as anything other than your Captain.

You feel the blunt head of a .22 press against your abdomen as Seda laughs, “You never could get a mission right.”

Twisting his arm and knocking the gun from his loose grip with your wrist was easy. So was catching the gun mid-air and elbowing him in the ribs. Seda falls to the floor in a state of shock, instinctively gripping his chest. You aim the gun at him and like you’ve seen in the movies, place the tip of your heel just below where his belly button would be. He releases a sharp breath and his eyes are challenging, practically begging you to dig deeper and get on with it. 

You can hear the screaming and frantic murmuring from the guests surrounding you and the leveling of guns from Seda’s men. But you’re focused on the man trying so hard not to quiver beneath you, his nasty grin spreading wider. 

“You’re alone,” he bites. “Your Steve is helping Ernesto right now, no? You’re alone.”

Your grin forms slowly, and you’re counting down the seconds you have until his men start firing, but you lean your upper body down slightly to make sure he hears you. “That’s never been a problem before. Don’t you remember?” You click back the safety as discreetly as possible. “I was trained by the Black Widow herself.”

You quickly raise the gun to shoot the closest of Seda’s men in between his collarbones, effectively starting the bloodshed. You jump out the way in a flash, rolling across the floor and behind a table. Tipping the table over is easy and it seems like a smart idea at first, until you realize the tables are all glass. The tablecloth had covered that detail, which sucks like hell, because now the bullets are shattering through and you’re forced to kick yourself away and run behind the pillars instead. The heels are kicked off at the same time you’re fishing underneath your dress. 

A stray bullet hits the pillar’s side making you squeal. It makes you work faster, though. 

Once you find the secure nano-tech ‘button’ (as Scott liked to call it), you strip as quickly as you can and slap the button on your bare shoulder. The nano-tech spirals and threads into itself as intricately as frost spreads on a window, shielding you in both metal and kevlar. 

When a storm of bullets hits the pillar and cracks the marble, you’re forced to crouch and hope Seda’s .22 and the myriad of weapons you’re now equipped with are enough. Before your thoughts can creep into a ‘last man standing’ mode, a roar of wind sweeps across the estate and between the cracked pillars, causing your loose hair to slap your face and blind you for only a second. Quickly putting your hair up and pulling the metal batons from the back of your suit, you’re met with the best sight - one that was a little late, in your opinion. 

“Kind of you to show up!” 

Sam ignores your quip as he flies into three men at once, feet first with his wings extended with the might of a guardian angel. He immediately shields runaway guests who were caught in the middle. He takes the ones on his left, you take the ones on his right. 

You let them swing first. They’re fast and pulling their punches and are clearly aiming for the end result of sticking you to the ground. But you’re quicker and deflect the punches. You manage to deliver a solid punch upward to crack the nose of one. As he reaches up as instinct, his ribs are open season. 

He falls out cold easily after your batons do their damage and the next man isn’t nearly as fast as the first. He doesn’t move enough to his right to avoid the harsh kick to his sternum. Each ambitious kick to the chest seems to demolish the man’s protective wall he’s trying desperately to keep intact, but once you give your legs a break and switch back to the batons, he doesn’t stand a chance. There are bullets raining across the venue, but Sam is shielding you and deflecting them elsewhere. It allows you the freedom to rip into whoever you think deserves it. 

You’ve got two men on your tail and after knocking their weapons from their hands, it seems like a fairer fight. The first doesn’t step back far enough to avoid your roundhouse kick and he falls hard on his ass, gasping for a lick of air. The second is closer, however, and manages to wrap you in a chokehold. Releasing yourself to fall deadweight for only a second, gravity tricks him and you use the momentum to kick up and fly over his shoulders. It’s hard to do without a wall to propel yourself off of. But your abs and thighs are clenched and you don’t quite think you’ll actually end up on this guy’s shoulders but you do. You don’t dwell on that moment of personal pride, though. Tightening your thighs, you use your upper body weight to lean downward and wring his neck. Once he’s down, you sweep your leg around across the floor to trip the other man who was just barely standing back up. With the .22, you fire point blank. 

Detaching yourself from the gore has never been much of a challenge. Eyes rolling back and clouding, limbs dangling limp after having just been full of life, bodies thumping against the floor after eating your bullets - you don’t so much as grit your teeth anymore. 

Sam is dealing with his own mess closer to where that poor cake is now destroyed, vanilla filling exposed and now two stories instead of four. The other cakes are no better. Sam pulls the trigger once more at someone charging at him and he averts his eyes. Sam, however, clenches his jaw. 

“Where’s Seda?” you shout, firing at men who are jumping out from behind tables but giving away their location before they even surprise you. 

“Lost him. I think he’s heading over to Steve!”

You look over the room and pray everyone got out safely. There are no civilians lying in their own puddle of blood, no guests begging for help, but you can never know for sure. “We need more hands. Where the hell are Scott and Bucky?”

A storm of bullets starts crashing into the tables and pillars beside you. Trying to duck doesn’t work and you’re grazed in the left arm. Sam tackles you behind the stage, wings extending further and out bending around you. 

“I’ve been shot!”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat because of your dramatic tone. “You’ve been grazed. The nano-tech has already rebuilt itself.”

“I don’t care, I hate being shot. It’s not nice. I’ve been hit.”

“Dramatic.”

“Y/N?” a harsh whisper sounds from under the stage tables. Watching your eyes bulge paints a mournful expression on Jackeline’s face. Julian is right beside her, pistol out but not shooting. You wonder if he knows you’re the invader.

“What in the hell are you still doing in here? I told you to run!”

“I’m sorry,” Jackeline squeals as bullets continue firing. “Everyone crowded. I was scared so I just got down.”

“Sam.”

Sam nods, already reading your mind. You had to find Steve; you couldn’t stay here. But there’s bullets still blazing in your direction and you find yourself hopping on your ass slightly each time a bullet connects to the ground beside you. The nano-tech does great in deflecting the lead but it really isn’t an invitation to get shot more times. The graze on your arm is already starting to burn. 

“Sam is going to guide you both out of here, alright? Julian, cover her. Sam will cover you.”

There’s a war going on behind Julian’s eyes. His face does a thousand things at once as he hears your orders and the scream of guns combined, but he nods. He grips Jackeline’s waist and pulls her in close, but before they can begin crawling Jackeline turns back to you. 

“Mátalo. Okay? Para nosotras dos.” She’s got this fierce determination in her eyes and her accent is as thick as can be. 

“Okay.”

Sam relays his location over his mic and who he has behind his wings, but before he can safely guide the married couple down the stage, a new wave of men enter and open fire. Sam’s wings can only take so much, and even though they’re vibranium, his suit is not. Ducking behind the table and reloading your gun, you then lift your head over to view the scene. It’s a mess and you could surely take them down hand-to-hand if you were close enough, but you’re stranded with your batons and seven bullets and a world of automatic machinery pointed at you. 

The storm of bullets pauses and every single person looks up to the sky. You thank the Gods for no rain today because the absence of a tarp allows for the quinjet to settle over the chaos and create a much needed distraction. Sam takes his leave, wings still wrapped around your sister, and you do the same. Running from behind the stage with batons lit up and tazed, you knock out the closest men. They fall in a strangle of electricity, vibrating and convulsing as each shock travels through their veins, ultimately paralyzing them for however long it turns out to be. This gains the attention of almost everyone else but before they can train their weapons back toward you, the back of the quinjet opens. There were a few tables still standing and it seemed the super soldier liked them better than the flat floor. 

The glass shatters from the impact of Bucky’s weight, glasses of champagne and plates with unfinished meals folding onto the shards. He’s dressed in his tactical gear and a dark navy blue jacket without a trusty sleeve. Even if the arm was covered and his hair was long rather than the short length it was now, the men would certainly know who just fell from the sky. Almost immediately, the men scatter. Bucky takes them down one by one, shot after shot, and decides to use his knives for the ones who don’t run. It’s tricky, but he manages to lodge his knives in the base of the spines of those who later changed their minds. 

He catches your eye after you manage to snap the neck of one of the runners. He tilts his head toward the left and watches you run to give Steve the backup he needs. 

     The mansion seems longer, wider, just generally bigger as you rush through the rooms and halls to get to Steve. The stuffed exotic animals follow your gaze and you can’t ignore them for long. There are men following you and men leaving Ernesto. You duck behind the standing polar bear and wait until the footsteps sound farther. Checking the amount of bullets in your gun, just in case, you finally flick the safety off and run.

There’s really only one thing of importance floating around the padded confines of your skull - get Steve out. Another thing you two had in common: both sacrificial idiots. But there wasn’t any way that you would give up the chance to save his life, as he would yours. Didn’t matter if the man you were protecting him from was your father or not. It hadn’t really settled, hadn’t truly digested, and you didn’t think it ever would. Because for years, this man was your father. He was the only man with that title. He wasn’t fatherly, far from it, but he had the label and that’s what you were going to focus on. It made no difference. 

You push the office door open and start stuttering over your words. You want to ask what happened, why there’s so much blood, whose blood it is, but all that comes is a fractured series of what the hell’s? The last syllables push through with necessary force, hardly intelligible, but exhaled at last. 

Ernesto is kneeling with his head hanging low and his hands behind his back, defeated. But it isn’t Steve who’s holding a gun to the back of his head - it’s Seda. 

No, Steve is in the corner clutching at his right hip and gritting his teeth, a wild look on his face that tells you he too was blindsided. He’s hurt. He’s gasping and wincing at the slightest of movements and it ignites the flame you’ll use to burn this world to the ground. It’s splitting your fucking ribs apart. 

“Don’t move!” Seda yells, gun still locked on Ernesto’s head but eyes on you. “Put the gun down.”

“Seda-”

“Put the fucking gun down!” 

Biting your tongue, you flip the gun in your hand so it’s facing downward and move to gently place it on the table. Flicking your eyes to where Steve is, you get your answer as to why he’s been so easily shot. His massive body and shield are draped over Ramirez, who is also disarmed and pissed. 

The self-righteous idiot, you think, he’s always gotta save the little guy.

“We’re gonna talk about this like the gods we are, yeah?”

Your face pulls awkwardly, “Seda, what is happening?”

“Don’t act like you’ve been on this asshole’s side the entire time now,” Seda bites, shoving the head of the gun harshly into the base of Ernesto’s neck. “Go on, tell him.”

“The shipment was intercepted,” you tell him. But you’re not just telling Seda, no, it’s the first Steve is hearing the good news and it allows him to feel a bit of relief. “You’ve both lost.”

“What have you done?” Ernesto screams, cheeks vibrating and face red with anger. He pays no mind to the gun and dares to glare at you. “Tell me!”

The top of your lip greets a run of tears and snot and it isn’t until then that you realize your hands are shaking mid-air and your throat is closing. “My mission.”

Blood or not, this man had the power to tie your thoughts into knots. He only had this power at precious moments and sadly, this was turning out to be one of them.

Seda bites out a laugh - it’s wet and bloody and scares you half to Hell. “I’m not the only one here who wants to kill you. But I’m going to beat her to it. She brought you back, I can’t have that.”

“No!” You curse inwardly at your involuntary hiccup. “We’re not here to kill you!”

“Oh?” Seda raises the gun at you. “What’s the endgame? Que mas necesitas?”

“I don’t need anything. The shipment is intercepted. The estate is on lockdown. Your routes are down. You’re cornered. It’s over.” You let your shoulders drag just a little. “For both of you.”

Surprisingly, Seda doesn’t pull the trigger when Ernesto charges toward you. He doesn’t pull it when Ernesto wraps his hands around your throat, either. 

It’s instinct for you to hold out your hand to stop Steve from doing what he does best. He’s already halfway up and wincing with each push to help you, to rip Ernesto from your capable body, but Seda clicks the gun in his direction. Steve watches the way your arm extends, all five fingers spread in a hopeless plea of ‘don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare’. 

“I have done nothing but help you! I put food on the table and clothes on your worthless back! You spent my money!” Ernesto’s eyes are practically bulging and his thumbs are almost crushing your windpipe, but his placement is off. You can still breathe air, no matter how bruising his grip may be. “This is how you treat me? I should have killed you all those years ago. I should have ripped you limb by limb until your cries bled!”

“Please,” you whimper out, hand still extended toward Steve and the other attempting to push Ernesto by the chest. 

“Please? Please? Te voy a matar aquí, ahora, porque siempre te lo mereciste!”

You let out a strangled scream and are about to fight back. To save yourself and to end Steve’s suffering of watching you suffer, of watching his newfound hope dwindle right before him, when a gunshot erupts. Everyone screams, ears ringing, and there’s blood splattered all over your cheeks and neck, spots and leaks that trail down into the collar of your bodysuit. A heavy weight lands on you and knocks you back into the shelves. You hold Ernesto’s now limp body as best you can, knees locking painfully. There’s a massive hole where the top of his head should be and for the first time in years, you have to look away to keep from throwing up. 

“Dejalo.”

You open and close your mouth but regret it when the taste of copper lands on your tongue. You follow Seda’s order and drop Ernesto to your feet, the thud sending a shiver up every single one of your vertebrae. 

“Por qué hiciste eso?” you ask him, voice small. You choke on another hiccup. 

“Don’t lie to me and say you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

You look over at Steve. His eyes are just as wide as yours and the same red specks, now turning brown, are tainting the flush pink skin of his beautiful neck. 

“No,” you whisper. Steve hears your lost accent returning and it clutches at his heart. 

“It was for the best.” Seda marches over to grab Ramirez by the tie, ripping him up from the ground and pointing the gun to his head. Steve lunges forward and Seda fires another bullet into the same hip. 

“No!” Your throat is raw, scratched, and Steve hits the floor in another heap of muffled groans. Seda returns the aim on Ramirez. 

“Imagine my surprise when I saw this one confronting Ernesto with your Captain. Imagine my fucking surprise when I tried to find all our passports, all our files, and nothing was here! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucking idiot White being taken away by one of your agents!”

“Seda, please.” You were never much of a negotiator. It was always go in and let the others do the talking. Steve was the talker, he was the negotiator, but he was out of his element. He was always the enemy to Seda. He could never convince him otherwise. 

“You’ve given me new purpose,” Seda grins and Ramirez is rather calm in his arms, like he accepts this. “Look at the crime scene. I’m using the gun Ramirez got from your team. My men are still loyal.”

He pauses and smiles with all teeth, blood in between most of them. “You shot Ernesto. You shot your Captain. You shot Omar.”

The frightened look on your face seems to fuel him even more. He continues, “We’ll never stop hunting you.”

“Try it,” Steve manages, standing up again and vaguely registering the flash of light to his right. His shield is no longer there. “You’ll have to kill me to win. You’ll have to kill all of us to win. Me, Y/N, Omar, Sam.” He breathes in deep but smiles. “The Winter Soldier.”

You swear Seda’s face pales but his grip around Ramirez’s waist only tightens. “Easy.”

“It won’t be,” you finally say, voice no longer wavering. There’s no plausible way Seda could win. But one thing is fact: whether they’re Seda’s or Ernesto’s men, they’ll never stop hunting you now. “You lost, Seda.”

All stills but there are shouts and the ring of gunshots still echoing near the lake. 

“No,” Seda looks to you and to Ernesto’s body. “I didn’t.”

He aims the gun at you and fires. 

Steve’s wail is grease to the fire in your soul and you accept whatever pain might hit. There’s space and then there isn’t. There’s emptiness and then there’s a space being filled by that horrid but lifesaving shield. There’s no one and then there’s Scott, blown up to his regular size with shield in hand and in front of you. The bullet bounces off the shield easily and hits the wall. You’re pushed into motion and in about two seconds, you’ve grabbed your gun again and do not hesitate to fire. The bullet hits Seda in his exposed chest and Ramirez fumbles to get the gun from him. Seda hits the floor and no one else follows. 

The shot hits its target perfectly. Seda doesn’t so much as stutter. 

“God,” Scott grumbles, eyes trying to focus on anything other than the pools of blood. “Was I late?”

You don’t pay any mind to Scott and rush over to Steve, where he’s barely holding himself up with his hip tilted on the edge of the desk.  “Steve? Steve. Did he hit anything important?”

“Besides the fuckin’ meat of my stomach?”

There isn’t a way to see beneath the kevlar, but your fingers have a mind of their own as they try to dig in. “You know what I mean.”

Steve huffs a laugh and gently slaps your fingers away. “No, but motherfuck me Christ, I get shot way too much and it hurts no less.”

“Was the shield not enough? You had to sacrifice your one-hundred year old hips? Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I was caught off guard. What about you? I heard over the mics that you were shot and-”

“Are you two done?” Scott interrupts, clearing his throat awkwardly but half a mind still paying attention to his own mic. 

It’s like you’re snapped back to reality. There’s not only Steve but others, alive and dead, and the smell of copper is all too familiar.  “Sorry, I’m still in shock. I don’t really know how to proceed from here.”

“Y/N-” Scott tries, but you resume.

“We were supposed to arrest them. Just arrest them.”

“Okay, I think we should get you outta here,” Steve acts like he’s the one guiding you, but his weight is falling. You faintly register a phone ringing in the room but Steve, ever so persistent, is still acting like he is holding you up. He lunges forward with a sharp wince, and your hand immediately goes to his hip. 

“Captain.”

Ramirez lowers his phone, call ended, and he wears an expression Steve recognizes immediately. It’s an expression that looks all too similar to Dugan’s when he relayed the news of enemy forces breaching their base. “...How many?”

“They’ve already sent the news to their men in Mexico.”

“Have they shut down the border?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“They don’t know two of their men are dead, so we can-“

Scott shakes his head, shield still in hand with specks of blood drying on the blue stripe. “They know White was arrested. That’s all they need. They’ll assume the rest, the worst.”

You sigh, “Seda was right.”

Scott literally pouts and he looks like he wants to wrap you in his arms. “No, don’t send yourself there.”

Steve, however, agrees with you. “If they know about White, then they know about Omar. Seda had time to tell his men.”

“Then we make sure he’s arrested and taken to a secure facility. We can keep an eye-” Scott starts, but you shut him down quickly.

“He’s wanted by the US government, not the Avengers. We can only transport him. We can’t guarantee his safety.”

Ramirez gives a small smile. “Mija, voy estar bien. No te preocupes.”

“I don’t know.”

Scott looks between the three of you. He places the shield against the wall near the door. He raises his eyebrows at Steve and looks to his wounds, but Steve waves him off. Reluctantly, Scott nods. “I’m gonna go check on Sam.”

There’s a pool of blood near your boots. You don’t want to know if it’s from the dead or from Steve.  

“Doll, what are you thinking?”

He can’t hurt you anymore. “That I need you to go, too.”

Steve forgets about the pain in his hip and focuses solely on you. “What?”

“Go. If there’s one more thing you can do for me and my reckless family, go check on Sam.”

“You know I can’t leave you here alone with him.”

Your voice is steady and calm and it’s scaring Steve. It’s scaring him. “I promised myself that you wouldn’t be hurt by this mission. I stand by it.”

“I promise, Captain, I have no resentment. Whatever she does, I will follow,” Ramirez speaks, and Steve doesn’t even pay him a glance. 

“I can’t just go.”

“Steve,” you interlock your fingers behind his neck. “Please. Listen to me.” He looks so confused, a million questions flying through his mind and almost escaping those sweet pink lips. Fierce, you whisper for only him. “He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He relishes the feeling of your soft hands behind his neck. They’re bloody, but yours. His neck is bloody, but you don’t seem to care. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” you confirm.

He pulls from your hold and turns to leave. He picks up the shield. Before he leaves, he grips the doorway and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pinched and jaw tense. “Two minutes, I swear to Almighty Christ, Y/N. I’m coming back for you.”

You smirk, the dim light from the office lamps creating nothing short of a sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t expect anything less, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates for a moment and then he walks away. Once his footsteps are no longer heard, you turn back to Ramirez. There’s a voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea and that you were an idiot to have your back turned on him for so long, but Ramirez is simply leaning on one of the chairs and grimacing at the bloody scene before him. 

“Remember when Ernesto bought you that car when you were thirteen? And then another when your brother crashed it?”

Your nose pinches, “I don’t feel like reminiscing when he’s lying right there.”

“Do you remember what you told me when he bought you that second car? The sports one?”

You sigh. Ramirez was clearly going to continue speaking. “‘No lo quiero. Soy una niña. Get rid of it.’”

“And I did.”

“You did.”

He smiles, and for the first time you notice all the gray hair dusting his head, the most by his temples. There's a limp in his step too but you can’t remember if he had before or after the wedding. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“What?” you blink, unsure if you heard him right.

“I’m already a traitor. If I spin this, you can continue the mission. You can arrest even more of his men. They’ll come after me instead of you.”

It’s what he’s been trained to do. It’s what he’s done since he transported his first shipment. It’s what he’s done time and time again for Ernesto, for Seda, for some of his own careless men. He’s numb to it, just as you were a few days ago, but now you can’t stop thinking about the aftermath. Where would he put their bodies? Would they be buried here or back in Mexico? Would people really care if Ernesto was dead? They didn’t seem to care when he was snapped out of existence. But Ramirez has this sag in his shoulders that tells you he’s already calculating the best way to wrap the bodies and how deep he plans on sending them… or burning them. Burning them was always easier. 

“They’ll come after your family. Your daughters.”

He shakes his head, “I’ve ensured their safety. They’re safe.”

Against your better judgement, you tap your mic discreetly and turn it off. “I can’t let you take one for the team.”

He chuckles, “I’m a part of your team? I’m an Avenger?”

You can’t help but laugh with him. It’s not a light moment, but it’s a moment nonetheless. “Sure, Omar. But we don’t trade lives.”

“I had this coming.”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t.” Straining your ears and shutting your eyes, you mumble a quick prayer in hope that this plan of yours worked. You pass Ramirez your own gun and speak low. “Go.”

He’s shocked and he stutters. “Que haces? Que esta pasando?”

“There’s no one on the east side right now. All the guests were moved to the front. It’s clear. But not for long.” Pushing him to the door, you make sure he’s not leaving any bloody footprints behind. He’s clear. “Go.”

“This will kill us both.”

“But it will give us a head start.”

“No puedo hacer eso! No quiero hacer eso.”

“Omar, they’re not going to protect you once you’re charged. I can’t protect you then. So I need you to go.” You reach into your suit and pluck that random Roman coin you had stolen just a few days earlier. It was a token of good luck but you didn’t need it anymore. You avoid looking at the carving for fear that the likeness to Steve will make you change your mind. You place it in Ramirez’s hand and clench his fist shut.  “If there’s one thing you can do for my stupid, anti-hero mentality, go.”

“Que hago con esto?”

“No me llamas. But let me find this.”

He looks at you with pity. It’s so much pity and understanding for your situation that you have to look away. “I owe you my life.”

Eyesight now on the wall over his shoulder, you offer him a thin smile. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He stumbles at first, unsure if this is really happening, and finally passes by. “Y/N.” 

You figure it’d be pretty rude not to answer. You turn slowly. He continues, face somber and head shaking with so much pity. “The amount of Hell that’s coming...”

It’s funny, really. You shoot him that famous smile you were known for. It tricks him like it’s supposed to. “I’m already going to Hell for the lives I’ve taken and the crimes I’ve committed. But the journey to my fate has been worth it.”

     The estate is being swept as quickly as possible. There are agents dressing wounds, reading rights, snapping photos, on the phone, etc. It’s organized chaos and there’s so much happening but it’s never impossible to catch Steve’s side profile in a crowd. His nose is pinched up and he’s dealing with his wounds himself. No one is even looking at him. 

Speed walking to him, you hook your arm in his and turn him around. He’s too tall, and your toes strain as you rise on them, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway. He returns the gesture and squeezes you as hard as you’re squeezing him. After a few seconds, he whispers quietly.

“Where’d Ramirez go?”

If he saw your eyes, he would know you were lying. You keep your arms in place. “He got away.”

He tries to push you away but fails. “Y/N.”

“He got away,” you repeat. Slowly, regretfully, you pull back.  “We should go.”

There’s a horrible crease in between his eyebrows and he knows he’s caught you in a lie, but he also knows that if there was one thing he knew most about you, it was that you were just as stubborn as he was. Quick with wit, always asking to be punched, and stubborn to the point it made strangers worry. So he doesn’t question it, and turns with you in the direction of the jet.  “Maribel has the safehouse set up. Montana.”

“You sure you can make it to the jet? Should I get Bucky to come with us?”

The quinjet is empty except for a few supplies, a medical bag, and Friday. There are only two seats and by the way Steve’s bending over to show his true pain, you’d be flying it. Once you land, you can fish out those bullets.

“No one else.” Steve bites. He can’t risk anyone else - hell, he doesn’t even want to risk you. “I’ll protect you.”

You board the jet and watch as the trees sway in rhythm to the movements of everyone doing their job. It’s dark, and you push the fact that you’re so horribly night blind to the back of your skull, and it’s starting to eat away at you that the mission didn’t really go as planned. No one seems to notice yet that you never brought them the two main players they were hoping for. It only makes you close the quinjet faster. You sit Steve down in one of the seats and kneel before him. “And I you.”

If anyone asked, Steve would lie and say he was tearing up because of the bullets piercing his skin in half.  To protect and be protected. 

“Let’s go.”

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[subbing-for-clones]

Stranded Part 2

Savage Opress x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and decomposition, mental illness, fear terror and FLUFF

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       Savage's eyes fluttered open to the sun shining brightly through the trans-durasteel panes that decorated the walls seemingly without rhyme or reason. The little one was frying some kind of thin meat strips on the stove and sipping hot caf. Without turning her head, she called over to him.

"How ya feeling?"

"Not great but better."

She turned and strode over to him, still laying down.

"I couldn't do this yesterday but I can today."

"What do you mean..?"

    She placed her hands on his bare broad chest and closed her eyes. A warm tingling sensation wafted over him. It felt like sunshine, utter joy and flying all at once. When she pulled away her eyes were a little fuzzy.

"It takes a lot of energy but you can transfer your life force to something and heal it. I was kinda low yesterday," she turned matter-of-factly back to the stove.

    Savage had only ever had painful experiences when it came to using the force or having it used on him. He hadn't ever thought of it as anything other than a weapon. He wanted to ask about it but shy away from the topic. Instead, he stood and stretched. He didn't have an ounce of pain. This woman who found him once again amazed him.

While the two unlikely pair ate their breakfast, her eyes didn't leave him, slightly squinting.

"You haven't been like this very long?"

"No. I was altered by the witches of my home world."

"Huh. Did you ask for this?" truly curious she stopped eating.

"No." she cocked a brow at his response, waiting for an elaboration.

"My species is subservient to our women. We live separately and go through deadly trials to be chosen by one for breeding or whatever they want really." He continued eating as the information he provided was simply normal for him.

"Was this..." she waved her hand at his body. "For breeding?" his cheeks slightly tinged in a deeper gold.

"No. I was chosen to act as a weapon for one of the sisters. She abandoned me when I didn't live up to the expectation." the woman noted as his eyes darkened. Wanting to change his mood she lightened up.

"Well, I'm happy you're here Savage. You have much to learn in the ways of the force.. you're strong but your energy is incredibly dark but you... you do not feel that way....." she trailed off in thought and muttered, "certainly an enigma. Very interesting," she tapped her finger against her chin.

    Savage's heart fluttered. He had never received any kind of praise from a female before and he didn't really know how to process it. His flush only deepened when she once again undressed in his line of sight, slipping on a shorter, loose grey dress.

"When you've finished, dress and meet me outside,” she skipped out the door and shouted something unintelligible into the trees.

    Savage silently hoped she wasn't completely insane while he quickly washed the dishes for her. He pulled on his pants and his long black kilt. Remembering that she had cut off his shirt for a sling he huffed and left the tattered remnant. When he came out, he saw what could've been a scene in a holovid. She stood with under a ray of sunlight, skin shimmering in the glow with a bright smile gracing her face. Her hands were pressed to the forehead of a green Varactyl while a dozen small song birds of every color fluttered around her.

"I think I should call you 'princess,'" he stepped forward cautiously.

She giggled melodiously.

"Mira here won't hurt you I promise. You think I look like a princess?" she flushed and batted her eyelashes.

"More than anyone else I've ever seen."

She extended her hand out to Savage.

"Come here," she cooed. He slowly made his way to her and took her hand. It was soft and warm, she held it for just a moment, running her thumb over his knuckles.

"Do not be afraid. Mira is a friend," she placed his hand where hers was just a minute ago on the Varactyl's head.

"Close your eyes and reach out to her with the force. Gently."

    He stood there for a minute before he felt anything. All of a sudden it felt like wind was rushing around him. He could see trees flying past him and a breeze danced against his skin. He leapt from trees, gliding through the air.

    She watched with satisfaction as his and Mira's eyes were closed and their breathing synced slowly. She felt their signatures meld for a moment. Savage pulled his hand away and looked at her wide eyed but grinning. Mira chirped happily beside him.

"Good, you made the connection. Rather quickly I might add. Mira is a receptive one. Very friendly. She's been with me a couple years now."

"I...I felt what she feels when she hunts," he was smiling at the creature fondly.

"Yes, that seems to be a favorite time for her."

"That felt much different than any other time I've used the force.... was that the light side?"

"I'm sure the Jedi would say yes but I am no Jedi. I don't see the force as light or dark."

Savage looked confused. Everyone called the force light or dark. The woman continued,

"Take a knife for example. In the wrong hands... a knife can take an innocent life, used to rob someone or threaten them other ways. However, in the 'right' hands it can be used as a medical instrument, carve wood or simply chop produce. I think of the force in the same way. The intent is what matters to me. Did you want to hurt Mira when you reached out to her?"

"No..no I didn’t," he stammered.

"That’s why it felt different."

    Savage understood what you were saying and turned back to Mira. The animal nudged him gently with her head affectionately.

"Let's go for a ride. I wanna finish stripping the ships you landed on. I haven't been to those ones yet. If you have anything else there, now’s a good time to get it."

    The woman strapped large bags onto the sides of the Varactyl. She hopped up onto Mira's back and once again extended her hand out to Savage. He climbed up and took his seat behind her. When Mira lurched forward, he gripped the woman's waist tightly so he wouldn't fall off and she laughed.

"Hold on tight handsome it's not a long ride but it's a turbulent one."

"A-alright princess."

      The added weight did nothing to slow Mira down. She was light on her feet and graceful. Leaping high into the air and gliding back down into the canopy. Princess whooped and cried out in excitement whereas Savage just held her tighter. His chest swelled with the rush. He was terrified but also having fun. He was a little disappointed when it ended and the ships were in sight. He slid off first and held his hands out for the princess. She beamed down at him and let Savage lift her by her waist with her hands on his shoulders. Her breath hitched when he pulled her down to him to set her on the grass underfoot. Quickly turning away to hide the heat rushing to her face.

"Alright, anything you wanna take, toss it in the bags. I'm gonna look through some of the others.”

    They parted. Savage always traveled light so he didn't have much to take with him. Some extra med gear and clothes, that was it. He hesitated in the cockpit looking down at the talisman that Mother Talzin gave him. It lay in pieces. He exhaled a silent apology, acknowledging that he probably wouldn't find his brother anytime soon. He slipped the pieces gently into his pocket and made his way out. After securing his few belongs in the saddle bag on Mira, he turned around to look for the princess. He could sense her nearby but couldn't see where she was.

"SAVAGE!"

He ran back to the hazardous pile of crashed ships.

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

He sighed relieved when she popped out behind his transport smiling ear to ear. His heart still pounding.

"It’s not huge but there's a Kriffing cargo ship buried under your transport and a fighter. Help me lift them. Cargos are gold mines."

    She stood shoulder to shoulder with him; well, shoulder to rib. Both of their arms were raised. It was shaky at first but they managed to move Savage’s large transport off to the side with the force. The fighter was much easier to shift. She grabbed his wrist and cried out excitedly, pulling him along to the sealed door.

"Could you cut it open with your saber?"

He smiled as she watched him ignite his saber and cut through the thick durasteel.

"Yes! Cutitopencutitopencutitopen!" she chanted excitedly and squealed.

Once he kicked the obstacle out of their way she shrieked and dove practically head first inside. When he entered, he was hit with the heavy scent of death. Four Weequay bodies lay scattered and half rotted around the cargo bay. Savage covered his nose with a disgusted look on his face.

The woman however didn't seem bothered by it as she sifted through the containers.

"This was a pirate ship... I haven't seen many of those," her whole top half was inside a rather large container while she spoke.

"Usually lots of credits, jewelry, spice.... not really useful to us right now but if we ever make it out of here, we'll be rich." He made his way to the sleeping quarters and took the standard med gear and hygiene supplies that was fairly standard to each room.

    When he came out, he found her pleasantly surprised as she held up some lovely dresses in bright colors to her form.

"I think I can tailor these to fit..." more thinking out loud than actually talking to him. She walked deeper, into the cockpit and tried to fire up the engine to no avail. She didn't have hope, it looked like they nose-dived into the ground anyway. She sighed and checked the common area.

    Rations, some cook ware in better shape than hers was, liquor... other odds and ends that would be decently useful. Savage found her holding a Sabacc deck.

"Do you know how to play?" She asked coyly?

"Yeah... some of the other nightbrothers taught me when I was a pup. Do you?" She shook her head.

"Well, I'll show you. We can play together." Her face lit up and something warmed in his chest that he'd never felt before. He pointed his thumb back towards the cargo bay.

"I found something you might be interested in.." she followed him; arms full. He fiddled with a small electronic box and powered it up.

"It won't connect to the net out here but it looks like there are some downloaded holovids,” he turned back to face her. She had dropped everything she was carrying and stared at him in amazement.

"I...I've never seen a holo-player out here before," he smirked.

"Well princess if you can charge it, we can see what's on it."

    The two of them loaded up what they had onto Mira. Princess did a thorough once over of the other ships. Finding a blaster with a decent amount of charges was the second best find next to the holo-player. They found a few sewing kits, more rations and med kits, and some crop seeds which also excited her.

They had ended up spending much longer than she wanted to searching through the wreckage. The sun was starting to set and it was falling fast.

"We need to get going. It gets dangerous at night... things come out.." she shifted uncomfortably on her feet looking up into the trees. Mira let out a quiet warning chirp. Savage lifted her up and put her on the Varactyl's back, climbing up behind her. This time when he held her waist it was more protective.

"I think I can sense them... what are they?"

Mira took off but it was slower, more cautious than when they came here to begin with.

"I don't know.. I've never seen them clearly. I know they have two arms, and three long sharp claws. Their hide is tough and... very rough. No fur.."

    Savage held his saber in one hand, not yet igniting it. He could see in the dark but these creatures still hid. The sky was a deep, dusty blue as dusk swallowed the atmosphere. It felt different at night. Like the air was hungry.

"I will keep you safe," he said as his eyes darted around. Once they broke the tree line it was only a short distance to the cabin. They unhooked the bags from Mira and she dashed behind the house up the barren hills, as far away from the forest as she could get. Savage and princess walked into the house.

"I've never seen them leave the forest. They've never come out of the trees into the clearing so the house and the yard are safe as well as the hot springs and hills behind us. Savage nodded in understanding.

"Stay here," his voice rumbled, "I'll fetch wood for the fire."

    She nodded before he left with his weapon in hand. Princess started putting away their various findings and set some rations out on the table. They were going to have to go hunting again tomorrow. She felt his shift in the force. Fear had a particularly unique wavelength. She took the blaster and right before could get to the door he kicked it open with his arms filled with wood. He hurried inside, dropped the wood and latched the lock. His face was blanched.

"Are you alright?" she asked slowly reaching for him.

"They just stood there. Behind the trees. Watching."

"You have night vision?"

He nodded and looked down at her.

"I... I’ve never seen anything like them. So.. gangly. Tall and.." he shuddered and shook his head, controlling himself. If she lived here for so long it was safe but when he turned back to face her, she had regressed.

"Beasts in the trees....." she still stood but her eyes were blown, her arms crossed over her chest; trembling.

"Beasts in the trees...." she repeated

He quickly gathered her up in his arms and sat on the bed. Her terror radiating off of her. He shushed her softly and rocked gently. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to his.

"Come back to me princess," he whispered soothingly.

"It’s alright, you're safe. I will keep you safe. I've cut down bigger and scarier things in my life. My planet has a rancor infestation. I have you. It's alright," he continued to whisper and hold her until she came down. She splayed her hand on his chest over his hearts. Their strong beat acting as an anchor. She buried her face in his neck. Her breath hot on his skin.

That warm feeling pooled in his chest again. He ran his fingers across her forehead, swishing away the hair that had fallen over it. She finally pulled away to look into his eyes.

"T-thank you Savage... I don't know how much longer I could've lasted alone out here. I feel like I'm breaking as soon as the sun goes down." He thought about his next words carefully as he stroked her cheek.

"My people live in darkness. I have lived with and fought against its terrors all of my life. I swear to you I am strong enough to keep you from harm. Today I found myself... almost glad to have crashed here. Because of you, and what you can show me. But, mostly you princess," his face was hot. She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"We should eat. You especially. I imagine you're starving. The rations aren't bad with the hot sauce I found," she smiled coyly at him.

    They ate in a comfortable silence. This time he watched as she slipped off her dress out of the corner of his eye. A feeling of want tingling under the surface. When they crawled in bed together, she wrapped her leg around him and lay her head on his chest. Listening to his hearts beat while he held her close to him.

She stayed like that all night and for the first time in years, she slept through the night.

[shxtpxstlxvxngfxck]

okok, hear me out. I saw a head canon where Molly and her friends go through a boyband phase and maybe the reader (gn pls, who is like 14 or 15 idk) plays instruments and teaches the museum Trio + neo trio how to play some songs? My friend head canons that Sylvie sings great and my mind is empty so- she also said she thinks the group + reader would make a song that is basiclly 'the adults are talking - the strokes' but they made it if that makes sense? Idk i just like music and epithet erased

Sorry this took so long! My computer shut down and I had to re-write it. I decided to make it a fic because why not. This is rushed by the way so it's poorly written, sorry! I'll revisit it later though.

You knocked on the door to Giovanni's house, a case and a medium-sized box in your hands. The door opened to Giovanni's mother looking tired out of her mind, a glass of wine in her hand and the smell of lavender coming from her person. Music by the Mainstreet Men playing loudly in another spot of the house and the sound of screaming lyrics coming from the same place. "Oh hi there come on in...can you please quiet them down for me I...I need a nice relaxing break." she said tiredly.

You nodded and came inside, making sure to close the door behind you. As you made your way further into the house, the voices became more distinguished. You knocked on Giovanni's door. "OI! CAN I COME IN? IT'S Y/N!" you yelled over the music. Giovanni opened the door.

"Where have you been Y/N? Too scared to be in the same room as me? HUH?!" he asked. You shook your head.

"No, but I was doing your mom. Hah." you joked. he blinked with an unamused look. "Anyways, what are you guys even doing?"

Giovanni laughed. "We're listening to the best boyband of all time, the Mainstreet Men! Only cool people listen to these guys!" he said. You raised an eyebrow.

"Why listen to them when you have a live performer right here! Turn off the music, I gotta show you something!" you boasted as you put down your baggage. The neo trio gathered around your case and unzipped it to find a shiny bass guitar. You grinned and plugged the box, which is now recognized as a mini practice amp, into the wall before plugging the guitar in.

Feenie turned off the music coming from Giovanni's stereo and nodded. You played a pretty cool line before pausing for a second. You thought for a quick second before doing the most band kid thing. You played megalovania. How could you? Of all songs why megalovania? Anyway, after you finished that thing, Molly tapped your back.

"Can you play any other instruments?" she asked excitedly. You smiled and nodded. "Can you please teach us? I wanna make a song with everyone. Please?"

"I mean, I don't see why not! Is everyone else up for it?" I asked. I saw a few enthusiastic nods but Sylvester shook his head. "Sylvie, why don't you want to do this?" you asked. He frowned.

"This all just seems like a waste of time. I have better things to do, like do my job." he explained. I hummed in thought.

"If you participate that means you're cool." you simply stated.

"Fine then I'll at least WATCH." and so that was the only thing your group did for a whole month. Am I going to show you the process? No, I'm lazy. That being said, here's the rest of the fic.

"Alright, so since it's been a few months," you paused to scan the room as if to check if everyone was there. "I wrote a song to test out everyone's skill. The thing is though, we need someone to sing the lyrics. Is anyone up for it?" you asked them. Giovanni raised his hand.

"I can sing this! Just watch me. You're all gonna be blown away." he said. But with just one look at the lyrics, he didn't want to do it anymore. "These lyrics are lame. Does anyone else want to sing?" he asked. you glanced over at the salmon-haired boy reading a book bigger than his head.

"How about Sylvie sings since he hasn't bothered to learn an instrument? He has nothing better to do, right?" I suggested. Sylvester looked up at me.

"Why should I sing some silly song for my friends? I'm an intellectual. Not some sappy teenager in a sitcom." he questioned. I laughed.

"Sylvie, I have blackmail against you. Sing or everyone hears about why I called you "piss baby" that one time." I threatened. He sighed and grabbed the paper containing the lyrics before I passed him the microphone. "Good. Now just go with the music being played. I made these lyrics so no matter what music plays, it goes. Alright? Now, Hit it!"

As I played my guitar, Giovanni followed with drums and Feenie with Keyboard. Then as Sylvester started singing, Molly and Trixie followed with an electric and acoustic guitar. The whole thing sounded so mesmerizing I could barely concentrate on the notes I was playing. Especially with Sylvester's singing. He sounded so mellow and calm. He surprisingly is a good singer and sings completely different from how he actually talks. It's hard to describe, actually. He sounds so calm and meaningful, yet so bored and tired. Then, Molly entered with backup vocals. The whole thing sounded like a beautiful summer night with friends. Just so calming and relaxed, so beautiful. It sounded like musical gold.

By the time the song ended, everyone in the room was quiet until Giovanni started clapping. We all clapped for each other's performances, laughter mixed in. We couldn't stop playing until we all had to leave. That day was easily the most fun we've all had as friends.

[janetbrown711]

"I'm just looking out for you" - Yakko to Wakko

Yakko wasn’t usually one for waking up in the middle of the night, but with a loud crash and a flash of light so bright Yakko thought his eyes were open, Yakko was awake in no time. With a pounding headache, he grabbed a hold of his thoughts, and realized he should check to see if his sibs were okay.

Slowly, he got up out of bed and noticed that Dot had gotten out of bed at the same time. Well, at least she was okay...

Dot looked at Yakko groggily, silently asking what had happened, but Yakko had the exact same question so they both just shrugged at each other.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Wakko said, standing at the end of the hall.

“Try me,” Yakko yawned.

“Okay- So I was just sitting here playing this instrument I made, right? And then I saw a Wishing Star and I thought ‘what the heck’ and so I wished on it- and then this desire fulfillment facilitator named Larry came down in this big ball of green light and told me that I can make one wish if I go out and touch the wishing star first- and then the star fell from the heavens and crashed way out there!” Wakko said without taking a single breath, and pointed past the mountains out the door. Yakko didn’t quite believe him at first, but there it was- undeniably, there was a giant star resting behind the mountains, glowing almost as bright as day.

“Okay... so?” Yakko scratched his head, still trying to wake up.

“That means I have to go to the wishing star and make my wish,” Wakko said, surprisingly chipper for this late at night/early in the morning. “And I should go right now- before anyone else notices-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow your roll Wakko, you need to actually go to sleep, you still haven’t gone to bed,” Yakko pointed at him. “And besides, you absolutely cannot go alone. We’re coming with you,” Yakko said, nodding at Dot.

“Yeah! We’ll take the sled! It’ll be fun!” Dot smiled.

“That’s good, I really didn’t want to go alone,” Wakko sratched the back of his neck.

“You really think we’d let you?” Yakko raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Wakko laughed a little.  

“Good. Now, let’s all get back into bed and we’ll head out in the morning,” Yakko nodded at his younger siblings and they both nodded and went their separate ways.

Fortunately, Yakko had quickly been able to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, morning seemed to come in the blink of an eye. When he did finally open his eyes and prepare himself to do his daily morning check up on Dot, he was surprised to find that both Wakko and Dot were sitting on the edge of his bed staring at him so hard, he almost fell out of the bed.

“Yay! You’re awake! We can go now!” Wakko grinned. Yakko wanted to be upset, but seeing his siblings practically bouncing off the wall with positive energy couldn’t help but bring a smile to his face.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Yakko rolled his eyes, though he really didn’t mind and did it with a smile on his face.

Together, the Warner siblings ran off to the shed where Yakko had been making the sled for Dot. What made it special was the fact that it had a sail and was big enough to fit a very old and warn out mattress, and with a pillow and blanket, Dot would be able to stay warm.

Slowly, Yakko and Wakko began to push and drag it out of the shed, and Yakko noticed that by the time they had reached the town square, people were starting to watch, curious about what they were doing. Before Yakko could think to stop anyone, Wakko and Dot started telling the whole town about the wishing star, and how the first person to touch it would get their wish.

This in turn started a chain reaction where suddenly everyone in town who had some means of transportation now wanted to go to the Wishing Star themselves and make their own wish.

Yeah, they probably should’ve kept it to themselves.

Oh well, The Warners carried on and started sledding away as fast as they could, especially since they now had competition.

This was going to be an interesting trip.

.o0o.

For the longest time, Yakko, Wakko and Dot had the lead in the race. They remained steady and ahead, the wind on their side and pushing the sail of the sled right along. Plus, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Dot and Wakko were making up songs about the wishing star, and guessing what it would feel like to touch a star. Yakko stayed mostly quiet, but that was because he was still tired. How his younger siblings managed to have seemingly boundless energy was beyond him.

However, after about an hour or so in, Yakko started to get nervous as he heard the voice of none other than the Baron himself shouting orders at the Constable Ralph. However, he did his best not to focus on that, and instead join in on his siblings conversation.

“If you could wish for anything, what would. you wish for?” Yakko asked them.

“I’d wish that we could have all the time in the world with each other, and never be seperated,” Dot said with a little smile. “What about you Yakko?

“I’d wish this could’ve happened in the summer, it would’ve been a lot easier to travel through,” He chuckled, though only somewhat joking. He was the only one without any real top covering and the wind was quite cold. his siblings laughed before Dot had another coughing fit.

“If I could have a wish, it’d be for a way to pay for your surgery,” Wakko said to Dot, patting her back. Yakko nodded.

His true wish was that his siblings wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, that they could soon be in a big, warm home and want for nothing, and that everything would just be... okay. That wasn’t a lot, right?

They kept on riding.

Yakko once again faded out of the conversation, steering the sled carefully as they twisted through the mountains, and trying his best to remain fast and steady so the Baron wouldn’t catch up with them. He could only imagine what he’d do if he did, he always had it out for him and Dot when he had gotten stationed there a year ago, right after Wakko had left. And now, as he glanced back, it seemed the Baron wasn’t any happier with them now than he was then.

Yakko kept his eyes forward from there.

Instead, his eyes focus on Wakko. He looked a lot more tired than Yakko remembered him being earlier, and the more he looked at him the more he noticed. He had a new scar on his knee that Yakko hadn’t noticed before, and he was really skinny. Yakko really wished he hadn’t pushed off talking to his brother yesterday because all of this Wishing Star business was too distracting.

“Yakko! Cliff!” Dot gasped and shouted and Yakko snapped back into he moment and pulled the break slowly, if a bit roughly. With a huff, he jumped down and examined the cliff, looking straight down and remarked at how deep it was.

“Do you get vertigo?” Wakko asked his brother, coping is motion.

“Nope,” Yakko said.

“Me neither,” Wakko clearly lied.

“C’mon Wak, we’re gonna have to pull the sled across,” The elder brother said, looking at the rickety bridge. Hopefully it’d survive the weight of the sled...

“Just- be careful and watch your step. We don’t want the bridge to break, understood?” Yakko said.

“Wouldn’t that slow everyone else down though?” Wakko asked with a sly grin.

“Wakko, no,” Yakko scolded, but couldn’t help but think that was a pretty good idea...

No. After this they’d have to head back to Acme Falls anyway, they needed the bridge.

“Just watch your step, and help me pull,” Yakko said.

Yakko had prepared for a situation like this, as he took out two pieces of rope and tied it to the sled. Then, he and Wakko started to pull. Yakko cringed when the bridge creaked under their feet, but they kept pulling anyway.

“Please don’t break, please don’t break, please don’t-”

Wakko cried out as the board gave way and he fell. Yakko’s eyes widened and he dropped the rope and rushed to help and relaxed a bit when he saw Wakko had maintained the grip on the rope.

“I-is he okay?” Dot gripped her blanket tightly.

“He’s holding on- it’s alright Dot,” Yakko said. “Wakko, hold on, I’m gonna pull you up,” He said to his little brother, who nodded and held on for dear life. Yakko could a deep breath, summoning all of his inner strength and slowly pulled his brother back onto the bridge.

“Phew, that was close, huh?” Wakko joked nervously, but Yakko’s face twitched.

“’That was close’??? That’s all you have to say???” Yakko was baffled, and mad, the swirl of emotions returning.

“I-”

“Wakko, You can’t just- You almost just-” Yakko sighed. “We need to keep moving.” Yakko gave up and stood and picked up the rope and started to pull again. Wakko looked at him apologetically and started pulling again too.

Eventually, they reached solid ground and Yakko was relieved to feel the snow crunch underneath his feet. Yakko then looked over at his brother and saw he guilty look on his face and realized he probably shouldn’t have snapped like that. Wakko started to head back onto the sled but Yakko stopped him by touching his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Wakko, I shouldn’t have gotten mad. It wasn’t your fault, I was just... trying to look out for you. I’m sorry,” Yakko said.

“I’m sorry Yakko, I should’ve been more careful,” Wakko bit his lip. Yakko gave his brother a quick hug before getting behind the sled and giving it the push it needed to continue onward.

However, everyone’s head turned when they heard a loud crack of a whip and they noticed the Baron was right behind them. Yakko frowned in determination and tried to make the sled go faster. However, apparently, the Baron didn’t want to play fairly as literal missiles were fired from his carriage.

“Geez, I always knew the guy was insane, but really?!” Yakko scoffed as he made a sharp turn to avoid them and they exploded against the mountain.

“That guy’s a maniac!” Wakko growled.

“You said it,” Yakko agreed, looking back to see Plotz sticking his head out of his window and growling at them.

He then shot three more missiles at them, but with careful navigation skills, all of them just went through trees instead.

Was this where all of their tax money was going to???

Dot and Wakko blew raspberries at Plotz, which only seemed to anger him, but Yakko laughed anyway.

However, the Baron’s next attack was much more effective, as a cannonball shot through and ripped their sail.

Yakko’s eyes widened when he realized that wasn’t the last one and that the next one was aimed at their heads.

“DUCK!!!” He shouted and dived at his sibs, and as they did the next cannon fired and took down the mast of the sled entirely. At least they still had their heads...

Still, it was clear Plotz was starting to lose his sanity, as he just kept firing cannonballs at them, which he kept getting worse and worse at aiming, so at least they also had that going for them.

Soon enough, there was a three-way division in the road, and Yakko made a last-second turn to the farthest one to the left, leaving the Baron behind Dr. Scratchnsniff and Hello Nurse’s elixir cart- how they managed to get ahead yet behind the warners was beyond them.

Still, Plotz was no longer attacking them, so Yakko finally relaxed.

However, the world seemed to hate Yakko, and as soon as they relaxed there was a loud explosion and shouts from the people on the other path, and Yakko just hoped Plotz didn’t kill anyone. Eventually, all three of the roads became one and Yakko got a good look at what had happened, but honestly couldn’t explain it.

Hello Nurse’s horse had in his teeth a strange device that held those weird mice he had rarely seen in Acme Falls but knew existed, as well as three pigeons, while Rita, Runt, Mindy’s dog Buttons and Mindy herself, The Doctor and Hello Nurse were all drinking their elixir drink and apparently must’ve had some kind of breakthrough two seconds ago because it wasn’t terrible. Yakko was curious about that, but they didn’t have time to stop, the Wishing Star was growing closer.

However, things went from strange to worse, when a loud crack went through the mountains, and everyone froze and turned their heads to find out that the worst had happened-

An avalanche.

Everyone scrambled back into their vehicles and raced away as fast as possible. Yakko glanced at his siblings, who were looking up at him nervously, hoping for encouraging words.

“J-just- hold on, it’ll be okay, we’ll make it. I know it,” he said, lying. In all honesty, the sled was losing momentum and if they stopped they were screwed.

Yakko did his best to keep his eyes forward so as to not see the snow getting closer and closer, knowing there wasn’t much they could do. They had to make it to the Wishing Star- they just did.

However, the world didn’t seem to hate him- it did, and soon the sled was lifted from behind by the snow and Yakko Wakko and Dot were knocked out and into the snow.

Yakko didn’t hesitate to dig up with all his fury and might, despite the pounding in his head and the soreness of his arms. He was not going to die like this, no siree. He had a job to do and that job was to protect his sibs by any means necessary, not leave them to die in an avalanche in the mountains.

Finally, he breached the surface and gasped for air and relief when he saw Wakko had already made it up. However, relief turned to panic when he couldn’t find Dot. He dug around him frantically, pleading that she was okay.

After a minute of panic and worry, Dot finally popped her head out of the snow and Yakko cried in relief. He dug the rest of his body out of the snow and lifted Dot out and gave her a bone-crushing hug, which Dot was too weak to return, coughing quite a bit. Still, Yakko didn’t care, she was okay.

“Look! The Wishing Star!” Wakko pointed and the other Warner sibs turned their head.

Yep, there it was. Yakko and Dot couldn’t help but “ooh” and “ahh” at it’s beauty and size. The thing was massive.

“Well, what’re we waiting for?” Yakko asked, setting Dot down but still holding her hand. Wakko grinned and held his brother’s other hand.

They made it- they had actually made it. Yakko had doubted a little bit back there, but it was actually happening. Sure, they no longer had a sled and had barely managed to survive but they were here and-

“Hello, Warners.”

That voice. That- face-

King Salazar.

Yakko wound up to sucker punch the king right in the face, but soon he and his sibs were surrounded by guards with guns aiming right at their faces. His siblings gasped and clung to him for safety, and Yakko hugged them both. He looked around and saw the other citizens of Acme Falls were getting the same treatment.

“Secure the area!” The king shouted at his troops and soon everyone was dragged off to a camp/fort the king had set up just for them. Yakko gulped nervously as he held his sibs close.

“Y-yakko is everything gonna be okay?” Dot asked nervously.

“I don’t know sibs... I really don’t know...” Yakko merely whispered, not having the strength to say much else.

“ATTENTION!” One guard shouted and everyone turned their heads. “All hail the mighty King Salazar!”

Yakko wanted nothing more than to kick his teeth in.

“That’s King Saladbar? He looks so ugly,” Wakko blabbed without thinking.

“I know right? You’d think with all the money he takes from poor innocent orphans he’d be more fashionable than said orphan,” Dot flaunted her own outfit. Yakko snickered and internally facepalmed at the same time, but the joy he felt left when the King’s eyes fell upon them.

“Plotz!” The King shouted for his loyal tax collector. Yakko gripped his sibling’s hands a little harder.

“Y-yes, your majesty?” Plotz bowed.

“I thought I told you to get rid of the little monsters, they’re still alive.” The king said, and Yakko felt a chill run down his spine.

Apparently, the King didn’t let go of grudges, go fig.

“I-i did my best s-sir,” Plotz said, glancing at the Warners and if Yakko wasn’t full of hatred for the man he’d almost feel pity for him.

“You failed me Plotz,” Salazar shook his head. “Lock him up with the rest of the prisoners. Same for the Constable and those rats with wings.” He snapped his fingers and they were dragged into the line with the rest of the people of Acme Falls.

“As for the Warner...” The king looked at them maliciously.

“Execute them.”

Yakko’s stomach fell to the floor.

Execution.

Them.

This couldn’t be happening.

He had to get them out of this, and fast.

“Ahhhhh, you don’t have to treat us special,” Yakko said, trying to put on a brave face.

“Oh, but I insist,” Salazar grinned, and a guard hit him with his gun to get him moving. Yakko growled and tried to think more, when it hit him.

“Okay Saladbar, have it your way,” Yakko shouted. “But we know secrets about the star that you dont~” He teased.

“We do?” Wakko tilted his head and Yakko elbowed him.

“I-i mean- Yeah we do!” Wakko grinned at the king.

“Like what? Tell me,” The king stomped over and demanded.

“Uh-huh. Well... perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement,” Yakko suggested, teasingly. The King thought about it for a minute and nodded.

“Fine, I’ll take you back to the castle, and you will tell me the secrets of the Wishing Star. Guards, take them away.” Salazar waved his hand after giving the new order and the Warners were dragged over to a cart where they sat, surrounded by guards and waited to be taken to the castle.

“But Yakko, the Wishing Star doesn’t have any secrets,” Dot whispered.

“I know, but he doesn’t know that. It’ll buy us some time to escape and let Wakko make his wish,” Yakko whispered back and his sibs nodded.

Good, at least now they had some semblance of a plan and weren’t being marched off to their doom. Still, things were looking kind of bleak, and Yakko just prayed he could think of something soon and fast.

It quite literally was a matter of life and death.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[paradife-loft]

Worth

Well, this intended to start out being for a prompt, but then.... I guess my brain decided that “Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao” was the actual real prompt and it didn’t have to incorporate any of the material from any of the days of the prompt lists. Whatever, I’m still gonna include it in my October fic series. I wrote it in October, after all... D: Also hey, it’s my first time writing Jiang Cheng! Hopefully he didn’t come out too poorly /o/

-----

When a-Ling had been checked over once more for injuries; the Jin servants disappeared upstairs to help put him to bed, and the innkeep paid for the meal and rooms, Jin Guangyao found himself unusually alone, in the waning candlelight, with Jiang Wanyin.

Despite the shock of more, wilier, and more unusual, elementals lurking around the mountain village than any of their information had prepared them for, he had no substantive signs of damage on him. The hardest blow he had presumably taken was the one to his pride, having to send a flare up for reinforcements when it turned out that a-Ling staying back in a secured area while Jiang Wanyin dealt with the ambush wasn’t going to work if their assumptions on what counted as safe couldn’t be fully trusted.

Even so, he seemed to have recovered admirably well by now, wiping down his sword from the sticky, hallucinogenic sap expelled as he carved a swathe through the engorged plant monsters, and no displeasure besides the usual evident in his face.

As the last of the Jin disciples filtered out of the room, Jiang Wanyin glanced up to Jin Guangyao, still waiting. His expression flickered, and then he sheathed Sandu and stood. Jin Guangyao smiled slightly.

“Please excuse this one borrowing another moment of Jiang-zongzhu’s time. I simply wished to impress explicitly once more, the Jin sect’s apologies for the unexpected encounter you and a-Ling had to suffer. We will of course not bear any fault from his care in mind, going forward.”

Jiang Wanyin’s brow furrowed, before he nodded, with a short “thank you.” His gaze flickered over Jin Guangyao’s comportment, lingering for a fraction longer on the sleeve where he’d drawn a hidden qin string from during the earlier battle, before piercing it through one of the elementals and using the vibrations from his hand to disrupt the creature’s spiritual energy, until it had practically dissolved into the earth.

“I was wondering where all that steel I saw in you at Qinghe went, once you put those Jin robes on,” Jiang Wanyin said a moment later. “Doesn’t seem like Jin-zongzhu makes as much use of you as he could, just having you greet guests and arrange banquet tables.”

Of all the things he’d expected him to say, that had not made the list. Jin Guangyao felt his stomach tense, and his face broke out into a brief flare of a smile, before he slid his gaze down and scraped the shape of his expression back from the cliff it felt like falling off of with the skin of his fingers. When he looked back up, he’d managed to return it, he hoped, to something more unremarkably thoughtful.

“I’m sure my father would appreciate any advice a fellow clan leader would have to give, next time you visit Koi Tower,” Jin Guangyao replied.

The look that emerged from Jiang Wanyin’s face after a few moments was, if nothing else, distinctly privately gratifying.

“Did a-Ling have any difficulties during the night-hunt, other than the unexpected numbers?” Jin Guangyao asked, after a few moments where neither of them spoke. Drawing his hands up in front of him, he set them together beneath the long drape of his sleeves. Jiang Wanyin shook his head at the new question, the furrow in his brow melting away slightly - until he’d returned to his ordinary level of prickliness - when he glanced up toward the stairs.

“No, he did well. I guess you Jins have been teaching him more than just fine manners and the history of all the cultivation lineages?”

Jin Guangyao inclined his head, letting the derisive implication slide past him. “We do take him and the other junior disciples on educational outings to our clan’s hunting grounds,” he said, patient and unruffled. It would do no harm to offer a few more drips of information to him, so clearly parched for any involvement in his young nephew’s education. “It allows them to observe the behavior of a wide variety of monsters, and the strategies our cultivators have developed to subdue them, all in relative safety - appropriate to each disciple’s age cohort, of course. If Sandu Shengshou has concerns, I could arrange a tour for him?”

Jiang Wanyin looked briefly surprised, and not for the first time, Jin Guangyao’s thoughts flashed to how much better he would do to learn to hide at least a fraction of his expressions. “Well, I mean, we’re all busy, I don’t want to get in the way for something trivial -”

“The satisfaction of a-Ling’s jiujiu in his education is of course not a trivial matter! It would be no trouble.”

(Or rather, it would; it would be yet another task added to his neverending list of them; but his father, he was quite sure, would have instructed him to extend the invitation if he were here, perhaps have him note a few minor suggestions Jiang Wanyin would wish them to make that wouldn’t have much true impact on the actual administration of the sect… Jin Guangyao found his own gaze wandering up toward the stairs to the inn’s second floor this time, and his emotions drifting in tandem toward envy of the small child now assuredly tucked into bed and, if his attendants were lucky, fast asleep - before he caught himself and fixed his eyes back onto Jiang-zongzhu’s face.)

Jiang Wanyin didn’t answer right away, looking at him consideringly for a few moments first. And then said, “Is that where you learned that trick with the elementals?”

“From the Jin sect hunting excursions?”

“Yeah.”

Jin Guangyao’s eyes flicked away from Jiang Wanyin’s, and he held his face still against the urge to bite at his bottom lip. The last time he’d been to the private hunting grounds outside Lanling, it had been to oversee and resolve a stock discrepancy. “Ah - not that one.”

“Oh? It’s pretty impressive, anyway. Not something I’ve seen.”

Jin Guangyao regarded him for a moment, contemplating what he knew of Jiang Wanyin’s own special techniques. His swordplay was widely-praised, of course, honed and matured on the bloody butcher’s floor of the Sunshot campaign; but his Zidian was an heirloom passed from Meishan Yu, rather than a relic directly chosen from the (now mostly-recovered) treasure chambers ensconced in Lotus Pier.

He smiled again. “Well, Yunmeng Jiang isn’t known for its musical cultivation techniques, if my experience hasn’t given a misrepresentative impression? Aside from your silver bells.”

And those were a rudimentary assay into the use of sound as a spiritual focus, certainly; but as far as making sound itself the instrument rather than a conductor alone, they didn’t approach the subtlety of even the children’s exercises taught by Gusu Lan. No, the Jiang sect’s unique strengths, aside from its once-head disciple, were sure to lie elsewhere.

But Jiang Wanyin looked back, his brows drawing up as if surprised, or not sure whether to be offended. “Most sects aren’t,” he replied. “Mostly, we focus on a strong grounding in the traditional disciplines, and plenty of practical experience - not so much specialisation in just one style.”

Which fit well with the easy popularity of the sect, allowing them to so effectively rebuild thus far, Jin Guangyao agreed. If what they wanted was for people to put in the work, and what they offered was more practical to the lives of the area’s villages than just the status that came with the prestigious possibility of secret techniques - not surprising that even now, they would do well.

And Jiang Wanyin, for all that the advantages of delicate political trades shirked him at a wide berth, was nonetheless dedicated to his work, and did not make frivolous demands of others while refusing to see them done himself.

“It’s a worthy philosophy,” Jin Guangyao finally returned - expression genial, even if his mood was no better. “A solid foundation is of course the most important basis for all later cultivation techniques.”

He paused, as if considering something, then added, “A-Ling would surely benefit from a longer period of time immersed in Lotus Pier’s training style, for that matter. Perhaps in a month or two, you might discuss it with my father? It would surely help maintain the strength of the bond between our sects.”

If Jiang-zongzhu had looked surprised before, it paled before the hopeful delight that spread, almost disbelieving, across his face this time. “Really? You think so?”

“Not immediately; it may be difficult for him to agree too soon after tonight. But with time and caution…” Jin Guangyao trailed off. An invitation for Jiang Wanyin, into the closed realm of private understanding and accordance created between them in doing so. Not that they were on any same side in truth; not with Jin Guangyao’s own responsibilities, which would be served just as well by Jiang Wanyin’s openness to being strung along even further in search of scraps. But everyone was flattered to think himself half of a closed mutual agreement - and it would not surprise him for Jiang Wanyin to be even moreso than others.

And indeed, he nodded, taking Jin Guangyao’s meaning well. He sobered, then, drawing himself up and letting one hand settle on the pommel of his sword, as if to reinforce in Jin Guangyao’s eyes the image of him as a capable, responsible leader of one of the four great sects.

But a moment after, he seemed to soften, handing over an expression nearly of gratitude with surprising ease. “Lianfang-zun,” he said. “Thank you for taking care of Jin Ling.”

The words settled over him like dust before sinking in, and Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened, just a fraction, despite himself. They were said with all apparent seriousness, and even so, he couldn’t help but look, instinctively, for the cutting implication the sentiment must have encased.

But he maintained his smile, empty, in the meantime; polished it with an almost demurring acceptance given only half of his attention. And at the end - he didn’t, or couldn’t, find anything truly objectionable about the gratitude to shred against the sharp skin of his soul. Jiang Wanyin, likewise ever sharp with his tongue on all other occasions, apparently meant it.

Jin Guangyao took a slow breath in, wavering in his lungs, and looked away.

[hes-writer]

Exclusive Content

this is a master list of all one shots, blurbs, series parts, and unfinished content that i have posted on patreon (so far)! click the title to read the sneak peek (if i’ve posted one)

———

*+VALENTINE’S DAY

the one where harry has an eventful day

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

* ACHY BACK

the one where y/n’s back hurts and harry draws a bath

“Took too long,” Y/N mumbled as they met in the middle, knuckling tiredly at her eyes. A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken a shower hours prior. Her back had been aching since then, the pain barely bearable for her stature, causing a crease in between his brows.

+ A LETTER TO THE MAN I’VE LOVED

the one where harry receives a letter from y/n

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

+ UNWAVERING (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

the one where harry cheats (another version of ‘a cheat’)

"I-I'm in a bit of a rush, baby.” He took a step back, increasing the distance between them. "I have a meeting today. Lots of work to be done," Harry responded his tone suggesting that he didn’t want to talk anymore. Y/N nodded to please him.

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her at the back burner of his mind.  

"I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

+ ALL I ASK

the one where feelings aren’t mutual and hearts are broken

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren't. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

* LITTLE PRINCE

the one where harry and y/n are 7-year olds

Harry gasped in horror, crouching to his knees and getting his knee dirty beside the girl.

"Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn't mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?" Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

RENEGADE

the one where y/n teaches harry the ‘renegade’ dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker. 

DROP THE TOWEL (m)

the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

“Hey, babe,” He greeted, walking closer to you in a towel that made him feel liberated. You hummed in a silent greeting, giving him a smile before doing a double-take at his appearance. He dropped the towel on the floor, his length hanging proudly between his legs. 

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry,” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

DREAM WITH ME (exclusive content as of right now) - this fic will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus

the one where y/n has trouble falling asleep

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black. 

DIGRESS (1) PROGRESS (2) REGRESS (3) 

the one where love fails

What happens when love fades away? How do you cope with the feelings disappearing slowly like a blot of dark blue paint diluting with every stroke of a ruffled paintbrush? Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

ROUTINE (1) (the first part will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus. following parts will be patron-exclusive content)

the one where harry is a camboy

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of seeing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly.

“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.

NOTES ON CAMP (1) (2) (3) (exclusive content as of right now) - this fic will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus

Y/N plastered a smile on her face as she shook Belle’s hand. “Sorry but I need to steal Harry away,” Belle tugged on his tattooed arm, fingers clasping around his wrists as he started walking along with her. “See you, Y/N!” Harry greeted, turning around with his arm draped over Belle’s shoulder.

“See you,” She whispered under her breath, looking at his retreating figure towards the cafeteria. Y/N couldn’t help the disappointment she felt, her shoulders slouching at the realization that it was too good to be true. Of course, he had a girlfriend.  A gentleman with chiselled features and a caring personality complimenting her? No way. Still, she wasn’t too sad about it. It wasn’t like they’ve known each other for long. Plus, they were co-workers! It would feel wrong to start a relationship anyway.

STRESSED OUT

the one where y/n is stressed and harry wants her to take a break

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Harry physically pulled his chest back. He felt like he had been shot. He knew she didn’t mean it though, but it still hurt to hear, “O-oh. I didn't know y-you felt that way,”

She continued, “You don’t know what it’s like having to spend hours researching so you don’t get anything wrong. Sleepless nights to perfect one paragraph that my professor nitpicks to the bone,” Y/N penned a few words on her notebook, not noticing the pout plastered on Harry’s face.

DESSERT

the one where harry wants something else

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

PET NAME

the one bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name

“Am I, Harry? Seems like you’re putting me at the back burner nowadays,”

He was speechless; had he? Harry didn’t mean to make her feel this way but he wasn’t aware that he was actively blowing her off for Ruby. And why won’t she call him ‘honey’? That was his nickname, wasn’t it? H stood for Harry but it was also the pet name Y/N had given him.

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself--golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

ROOMMATES SERIES (3) (4) (5) (6)

the one where harry and y/n are roommates

updates every 2 weeks!

will not be posted on Tumblr until the series is finished

Y/N gasped at Harry’s proximity, lids snapping open with her hand reaching over to pat along until she found her phone which was blaring with an alarm that she had set. Harry gulped, eyes wide as his mind ran through what the hell just happened.

“What are you doing here? Get out!” She yelled, tugging the sheets higher on her body. 

“I-I was just waking you up so you can make us dinner,” Harry stuttered out, his excuse sounding lame but he patted himself on the shoulder for making it up on the spot. Well, that was his intention in the first place until he got distracted.

FRIENDS DON’T MINI-SERIES (1) (2) (3)

“Is this okay?” Her doe irises searched his. Harry raised his head lazily to make eye contact, nodding his head with a bit lip. Y/N clenched her inner thighs together at his already blissed-out state, his pupils slowly becoming larger with arousal. “Friends don’t touch each other this way,” She purposefully drew out her statement, giving Harry an out of the situation if he needed to.

“More than okay,”

FIC EXTRAS #1 - TEASE

the one before ‘under the table’

“Fuckin’ dirty,” He spat, the pads of his thumb tracing circles on her hipbones, not feeling a trace of clothing resting on her hips. “Wearin’ a short dress with no panties,”

Y/N hummed, arms slanting behind her to support her upper body so that she could spread her legs further, making room for Harry’s hand. “Didn’t feel like it,”

“Y’just waiting for me to find out, hmm? You knew I couldn’t resist myself when you look so goddamn pretty,”

UNFINISHED DRABBLE #1

the one with fratboy!harry

“Y’alright?” Harry’s husky breath barely made its way to her ears, only then did Y/N feel the hand palming her lower back, another one gripped around her shoulders. Her front flushed against his own, feeling his hard chest on her heaving ones. She peeked one eye open, looking around at her angled stance, then to Harry who wore a concerned look scanning her face. Y/N nodded in response, blinking rapidly, her nipples hardening at a sudden cold breeze beneath the thin fabric of her dress, surely poking him through his shirt. She blushed at the thought and his brief glance over her where they touched, his eyes dilating the tiniest amount.

UNFINISHED DRABBLE #2

the one where harry’s a cheating asshole

Harry wormed his way through his delectable voice and his ever-present words that somehow scorched your shield to the ground. Again. He promised never to do it again and your love-sick heart trusted him. Again. 

But your trust wasn’t something that was particularly valuable to him. To Harry, it would always be there, lingering like the stars in the night sky; always present, always gleaming. Harry was very sorry for what he was doing to you. It was ironic, really; he hoped and prayed every day that you wouldn’t find out but his carelessness left everything out in the open.  

TEXT MESSAGES #1

the one where y/n has silly thoughts

TEXT MESSAGES #2

the one where harry and y/n share the same class 

[ill-go-with-that-then]

A NEW ERASERMIC AU I'LL NEVER WRITE!

Imagine Aizawa works at Buzzfeed, and gets the idea to write an article about how Twitch streaming is stupid and pointless (because he’s a video game snob.) He chooses Present Mic’s channel to watch at random, because he’s super popular, but Aizawa immediately goes from undercover reporter to absolute fan. No middle ground. Just “huh, okay i was wrong” and subscribes.

He tunes in to all the live streams, because Mic is very funny and also very good at video games, and it’s cool to watch him play. He has skills, his commentary is A+, and Aizawa develops a little crush. But it’s not a big deal!! Mic is a celeb, Aizawa knows they’ll never meet, it’s harmless.

Sometimes the chat for the stream gets assholes in it, as you’d expect. Mic can’t monitor the chat too much, but Aizawa has no problems telling jerks where to stick it. And once, after a particularly egregious incident where some moron said something crude about women in gaming and Aizawa ripped him a new asshole, Mic sends him a personal message thanking him and asking him if he wants to be a mod, which of course, he does. He doesn’t know how to reply - this is his big chance to talk to Mic!! So of course he just says “sure” - no further conversation.

Aizawa has, of course, zero personal details on his Twitch account. No info, no icon, his screen name is a random string of numbers, he’s a ghost. The Ron Swanson of video game enthusiasts.

So Aizawa is working at Buzzfeed, living his best life writing articles like “10 Video Game Themed Products You Can’t Live Without” because journalism is in shambles and he drinks to forget, and one day his editor is like “hey, we’re gonna do a feature on Twitch streamers. Everybody is gonna go sit and watch a stream in person and get the behind the scenes info. Here’s a list of people who agreed.” And PRESENT MIC IS ON THE LIST

One of his colleagues reaches for Mic’s info sheet, rolling his eyes and sighing. “I can’t believe these are considered celebrities. Have you ever heard of any of them?”

Aizawa practically slaps the paper out of his hand. “Present Mic is a consummate professional and his content is high-quality and entertaining. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it since it involves technology more current than a compact disc.”

The room goes silent. Nobody’s heard Aizawa say anything nice about... maybe anything? Ever? But his editor, Kayama, pounces immediately. “WELL if you like him so much, Aizawa, that can be your interview!!”

Aizawa panics. On the one hand, he wasn’t going to let anyone else take that assignment. But on the other hand, now he’s going to meet Mic IN PERSON. During a LIVE STREAM. Is he supposed to tell him he’s a fan? Is that tacky? Will his crush be obvious? What if Mic sucks in person?? This is a double edged sword.

He only gets more nervous on the day of the interview. He’s tempted to dress up a little, look his best. Mic is a good-looking guy after all, and he’s always well put together when he streams. And even though Aizawa knows, knows he really doesn’t have a chance, he still doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

BUT he also doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard. That’s not who he is, and dressing up would be admitting to himself that he DOES want something more than a simple interview, even if it’s as little as Mic’s good opinion or positive attention.

He debates too long. While he’s still thinking about it, the alarm on his phone goes off, alerting him that it’s time to leave. He’s still in his pink sweatpants and he hasn’t shaved, and he realizes, just at that moment, that he probably should have tried harder at least for the sake of professionalism. But it’s too late. He has to go.

Mic actually doesn’t live all that far away. Just a short train ride, less than 20 minutes, and Aizawa is standing in front of his nondescript apartment. It’s a little odd - Mic is a very popular streamer, theoretically with income to match, and his style seems flashy. Aizawa had expected something a little more over the top. But this place is simple. Storing that information away for later, he knocks.

“COMING!!” He hears from inside the apartment, followed by the thud of footsteps. Aizawa just has one moment to brace himself because this is it before the door opens and there he is. Present Mic himself, all smiles. “Come in, come in!! You’re from buzzfeed right? Wow, this is so exciting!!” Mic ushers him in the door, taking his jacket and hustling him into a tidy living room before Aizawa can even respond. And of course, when he finally gets himself together enough to say something, the first words out of his mouth are “You’re... tall.”

He wants to smack himself. Yes, Mic is taller than Aizawa had realized from the stream, even a little taller than Aizawa himself. But those are thinking words, not speaking words. Certainly not the first words you use to introduce yourself to your celebrity crush. But Aizawa, a champion moment-ruiner, has made his bed, and now he must cry in it.

But Mic just laughs. “Yeah,” he says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “I get that a lot. Sorry?” 

“Don’t apologize,” Aizawa says immediately, then wonders if he is, in fact, under some sort of curse. “Shouta Aizawa,” he introduces himself. 

“Hizashi Yamada, also known as Present Mic!” Yamada’s smile is friendly, like Aizawa hasn’t made an absolute fool of himself so far, and Aizawa has to look away from it. He glances around the room, which is tidy and clean, but cluttered with various objects that seem to have no connection to each other. There are books in a variety of languages, musical instruments, shelves of CDs, and an assortment of other things that have nothing to do with video games. 

“Quite a collection you have,” Aizawa says, because it is, and because he’s curious. 

“Yeah! I have too many hobbies but what can you do? Come on, I’m sure you’d rather see my workspace.” It’s not true, Aizawa has seen the office where Yamada streams before, and he’d much rather stay here and poke around, build up his mental picture about who Yamada is outside his Present Mic persona. But he’s not here for that. This is business.

But the streaming room is also not what Aizawa expects. Some things are familiar - the area visible to the camera is the same, set up and ready for tonight’s stream, but the rest of the room, the part that isn’t on screen, is PACKED. There’s a wobbly desk in the corner, covered in neatly stacked papers and binders labeled by month and year. The wall over the desk is a massive whiteboard filled with notes and ideas for upcoming streams. And there, in the lower right corner of the whiteboard, right where it would be even with Hizashi’s eyes as he sits at his desk, is a familiar string of numbers - his own Twitch username. And next to it is a little note - don’t forget. Good dude.

Aizawa sees his username and just - freezes. It hadn’t occurred to him that Mic thought of him at all outside of that one occasion he DM’d him, let alone that he considered Aizawa important enough not to forget. And the idea that Mic thinks he’s a “good dude” makes his face BURN in pleased embarrassment. He wants to say something but what? Is it weird? It’s weird, it’s too weird, and before he can think of how to do it, Mic is talking again.

“Okay, this is where the magic happens!! Actually, it’s more like weeks of frustration and repetition followed by 3-4 hours of intensely stressful streaming, but hey! People seem to like it!!” Aizawa wants to say something here - Mic is being a little too self-deprecating for his taste, but he stops himself. He can’t defend Mic’s honor to Mic himself - can he? The moment passes while he debates.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be on camera or not?” Mic says, tentatively. 

“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” says Aizawa. “I’m more the behind the scenes type.”

“Totally, no problem!” Mic says, gesturing to his desk. “You can sit there, if that’s okay? The only other seat is by me.” 

Aizawa looks at the chair, then back to the small couch where Mic will be streaming from. “I think I’ll have to be closer to get photos for the article, if that’s all right.”

“You’ll be on camera,” Mic bites his lip. “I mean, maybe i could re-angle it, but then the screen-“

“It’s fine,” Aizawa says. “Journalism is about hardship.”

Mic snorts, and Aizawa can’t keep a little smirk off his face, proud that he got a laugh.

The stream goes smoothly - Aizawa likes it even more like this, without the chat to distract him, and close enough to notice things he’s never seen before. Mic’s feet twitch when he’s focusing hard, and his socks have cats on them. It’s adorable. Aizawa takes no notes - he doesn’t really need to, he’s seen enough streams to write this article in his sleep, and anyway, it’s not like he’s going to forget a minute of this.

Afterwards, once they’ve signed off, Mic talks him through his post show routine, everything from calculating how much he made and comparing it to previous weeks in a spreadsheet to going over the chat. “Huh,” Mic’s eyebrows crease as he looks at the chat logs. “Things got a little out of hand tonight.”

“Oh?” Aizawa says, shuffling uncomfortably. He suspects he knows why that is. 

“Yeah, one of my regular mods wasn’t on tonight. I hope he’s all right - it’s not like him to miss.”

“You have a lot of viewers,” Aizawa says, tentative now. “Do you know them all so well?”

Mic shrugs, embarrassed. “No, i wish I did! But this guy’s special, he’s really funny and he keeps all the trolls in line. I’d DM him to see if he’s okay but that’s weird, right? That’s weird. And anyway I tried to talk to him once before but he shot me down.”

“I didn’t-“ Aizawa says before he can stop himself. The curse is real. Mic stares at him, open mouthed, confused at first but then his eyes widen as he realizes what must have happened. Before he can say anything, Aizawa cuts him off. “Sorry. That i couldn’t mod tonight.” He mumbles, hand buried in his hair. He can’t meet Mic’s eyes anymore. “I’ll be back next week.”

Mic opens his mouth to speak, but Aizawa interrupts again, before he can. “And I didn’t - I didn’t shoot you down. I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me. Why would you?”

Mic blinks, and Aizawa isn’t sure what he’s going to say. Will he be mad? Aizawa kind of lied to him. Is he disappointed? Does Aizawa not look like he expected? Has he been too silent? Too unfriendly? Does Mic not want to get to know him anymore? But when Mic finally speaks, what comes out is

“I can’t believe you made me memorize that stupid fucking username, we’re picking you a new one right now.”