#close to you is SO. THEM. man i need to write their first meeting …. brb adding that to the list for interested peeps

[wexhappyxfew]

Kennedy Farley and John Egan of the Silver Bullets MOTA-verse Series

I burn for you / And you don't even know my name / If you asked me to / I'd give up everything / To be close to you / Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met / I wanna be close to you / Break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight / Just let me be

- close to you by gracie abrams

[ickle-ronniekins]

dance with me

request from nonnie! “Hello! Im terribly in love with your writing! I was wondering if maybe, Charlie takes Bill, the twins an (either oc or reader insert) to a muggle party and they’re all super confused but love it and Fred is completely smitten by the OC when she danced and maybe did something weird/special of your choosing. I hope it isnt much, lots of love for u and Mischief Managed! ♥️”

pairing: fred x muggle!reader

word count: 2.2k

A/N: my dudes i don’t even know what the fuck this is but i loved this request so much, didn’t mean to make it sad, sry, also you can interpret this how you will.. personally i think they’re both too vulnerable rn to ~get it on~ but i like to think that maybe fred would open his heart again after this and she’d mend his heartbreak..... brb making myself big sad !!!!!! but listen if you wanna imagine him pinning her against the wall and having the time of his life then go for it, man i'm just...... big into angst;;;;;;; pls reblog & leave feedback & things of the like, thank you loves

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans​ @helloallthethingsilove​ @waschbiber​ @dreamer821​ @the-hufflepuff-of-221b​ @62442-am​ @wtfweasleyy​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @thoseofgreatambition​ @harrysweasleys​ @sleep-i-ness​ @shadowsinger11​ @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @hood-and-horan​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm​ @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @parker-potters​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbstrawberry0421 | message me to be added!

The foggy, wet streets of the city were unappealing compared to the very comforting, open landscape next to the Burrow. The very last thing that Fred and George had wanted to do was follow their two eldest brothers in the frigid, rainy weather to some silly Muggle party in central London.

Especially Fred.

He didn’t want to be forced out of the one place that made him somewhat happy, especially when he was still nursing the heartbreak that had been causing him so much unpleasantness.

But they’d obliged, because Charlie had nearly pounced on the two of them about it, and they’d much rather go to this than be forced to sit inside the Burrow with pompous Percy -- although, since the war, he had admittedly gotten better at not being a self-righteous git.

The twins had a ton on their plate; not to mention, Fred wasn’t in the mood for any of it. They were dragged out of their business shop by Bill, who was adamant about the fact that they’d both needed a night out, and when they’d tried to persist, telling their eldest brother many times that they had too much to do before the newest shipment of magical inventions came in, Bill had nearly hexed the pair of them, causing them both to shut up almost instantaneously.

But now, as bright, fluorescent lights hit the middle of the room, highlighting you, your smooth and effortless dance moves, and the very lazy grin on your face as you sang along to the booming music in between sips of your drink, Fred wasn’t so huffy about being here anymore.

His heartbreak didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

At least right now, it didn’t.

Admittedly, Bill was right. They really did need a night out. They’d been so bloody busy working that they hadn’t even been to the pub in a few weeks’ time. Ever since the war, business had seemed to escalate, which was really saying something, considering it was incredibly busy even before all of this had gone down. The two of them hardly ever had a moment to breathe. Which, they supposed, was good for Fred. Kept him occupied, kept his mind at bay. But they reckoned they probably needed to hire some more help. Ron had reluctantly agreed to lend a hand. It was Hermione’s idea. A brilliant one, at that.

George thrust a beer frustratingly into his twin’s hands. “We’ve got so much to do, mate.”

“Yeah,” Fred replied breathlessly, truly not listening to a word George was saying.

Fred Weasley had always had it easy when it came to the ladies. They flocked to him, really. He didn’t like to admit it so as not to come off like an entitled prat, but it was true. It was probably due to the fact that he was always making everyone laugh -- something that came equally as easy to him. Perhaps it was his bright red hair that the girls ogled over. Maybe it was his wicked sense of adventure, and the fact that he was always landing himself in questionable situations more often than not. But that was school. He could easily impress those girls at school. He hadn’t had too in a while, though. He’d been happily tied up with the same person for years — that is, until he wasn’t. Until she’d picked someone else.

This was different, though. This was a Muggle party, in the middle of central London, in someone’s sweaty, sticky flat with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Fred couldn’t do magic here. He couldn’t impress someone with his inventions or with his stories about adventure without giving away the fact that he was a from a magical background. He couldn’t use his usual tricks in front of all of these Muggles or he’d be in a ton of hot water.

He also couldn’t let his very intense vulnerability and his rusty flirting get in the way.

But he wouldn’t be Fred Weasley if he didn’t try, right?

It was always easy for Fred to be able to flirt absentmindedly with women. But with his heart in a fragile state, he wasn’t so sure it would be easy tonight.

Bill, picking up on his younger brother’s locked knees and fingers gripped tight around his beer, stopped in front of them. “You alright, Fred?”

“Yeah,” Fred said again, clearing his throat and swigging a bit of his drink. He then thrust the nearly full beer into Charlie’s hands, who furrowed his brows in a confused look. Fred continued, “More than okay. Hey, you guys have fun -- I’ll catch up with you in a bit, alright?”

He left his brothers standing at the other end of the room as he pushed through tons of people. When he’d finally made it to the middle, you were gone. He casually swerved around, peering all around the room to try and meet the gaze with the eyes he felt like he’s known for years already. He then spotted you toward the corner, pouring yourself another drink. His feet began moving before he could register exactly what he was doing; so quickly, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard the obnoxious exchange of words and laughter from behind him from his brothers.

“Merlin, can we go anywhere without Fred picking someone up?”

“Give him a break, mate -- he hasn’t seen anyone since everything unraveled with the last one. It’s been almost two years. Reckon this is good for him — for me, too.”

“Wish it was that easy for me to pick someone up, bloody hell.”

With his heart pounding unnaturally against his ribcage, Fred slid next to you and too began to pour himself a drink, glad to have gotten rid of that beer that Charlie was now undoubtedly guzzling. He opened his mouth to speak, but much to his surprise, you spoke first.

“Ahh -- a whiskey man, are you?”

He was taken aback at the sultry sound of your voice; maybe it was because the music was pounding in his ears, or the fact that you were this foreign person he desperately found himself wanting to know, and very quickly. He looked down at his drink, and then up at you. You were already sipping yours. “That a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily -- though I haven’t decided yet.”

The slight eyebrow raise you gave him made his insides twist. It was too early in the night for nerves. He swallowed them down as he took a swig of his very strong drink. “Haven’t decided, hm?”

You turned to him and then around to face the rest of the party. You inched closer and crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded. “There are three different types of men here tonight, you see. Those, over there,” you pointed with your pinky finger to a bunch of very frat-like men sipping lazily on their beers or glasses of wine, “they’ve come looking for something casual. Not so casual as far as one nighters go, but a fling. Something of the like. Those over on that end,” Fred followed your finger over to a very messy looking group of men who were dancing far too close with some women in the middle of the dance floor -- they looked like they all needed to get rooms. Separately. Merlin. “You know the type of night they’re looking for.”

Fred couldn’t help but snort a bit as he sipped casually.

“And then there’s you. Sipping your whiskey. Cute as ever.”

You turned back toward him and he raised an eyebrow. He was now feeling a bit self-conscious — he was both thrilled and equally embarrassed at being called “cute” by a woman as stunning as you, way out of his league and probably having quite a laugh yourself. He didn’t even know your name. What would you say next? You’d already deemed him the “third type of man” in the room, but the fact that he was a standalone, and not lumped in with another group, made him feel both overwhelmingly relieved, and also slightly terrified. But he tried to play it cool.

“What about me?”

You brought your hand to your hip and wet your lips, pondering this. A small smirk spread itself across your face, the fluorescent light flashing across your eyes. “I dunno yet,”

He liked that. He liked that you didn’t know anything about him. He liked that he didn’t have to be the bloke who made jokes to lighten the mood, the guy who loved messing with people, or the boy who got his heart broken by a girl who’d never really cared for him at all. He didn’t have to be any of those people. He could just be Fred.

“Haven’t decided, I reckon? Like the whiskey?”

You smiled; it was bad enough that Fred was losing his mind solely at the perfume you were wearing, and the fact that this conversation was going absolutely nothing like what he’d planned. Your eyes met his and your voice was soft when you leant in closer, “That’s what makes it so bloody dangerous.”

He didn’t know what the bloody hell you meant by that but he didn’t seem to mind, especially when you grabbed him by the shirt and led him to the dance floor again, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you as some slow song he’d never heard blared through the speakers in the corner.

“And to think — I was just going to come over here and see if I’d even be lucky enough to have a chat,”

You laughed at this, shutting your eyes whilst doing so, and Fred noticed something sparkly painted on your skin toward the edges of your eyes. “What can I say? You’ve intrigued me.”

Perhaps he could do this without any magic. Bloody difficult to not talk all about it, though.

Perhaps his vulnerability would subside, and he’d be able to talk and flirt and dance without thinking back on his own overwhelming heartache that had rendered him nearly useless the last few months.

But after a while, he stopped worrying. The music was so loud, your laughter so infectious, that he’d forgotten all about all those stupid jokes he’d wanted to make about his shop, about Hogwarts, about the magic he’d learned growing up. It wasn’t until you’d asked him to be in the moment with you that he’d truly remembered them.

“Just,” you’d started, tugging gently on the collar of his shirt and biting your bottom lip as another song played loudly, “just be here with me, okay?”

Fred wondered, as glassiness seemed to fill your eyes through a grin at him, if you, too, were in need of this night out.

Maybe you were nursing some kind of heartbreak, too.

Maybe you were also trying to find some type of normal.

It was in your tone — in the way your voice trembled slightly when you’d said be here with me. He didn’t think you were looking for something like a fling, like those guys you’d pointed at before. And he definitely knew that you weren’t looking for one night and one night only, like those sloppy people he’d kept trying to avoid on the dance floor. Maybe, like you’d said, you just needed him to be here. In the moment. Just the two of you, shoes heavy against the hardwood floor, eyes sparkling underneath the lights.

He realized, when he peered down at you and felt some type of warmth for the first time since his own heart was crushed in its vulnerability, that he just needed you to be here with him, too.

So when you leant forward slowly, trying to read his expression, to see if it was okay to do what you wanted to do, he leant in too, pressing his lips gently to yours in a spark of electricity for the first time in Merlin only knows how long.

And what he tasted on your lips sent him spiraling.

When you pulled apart, he raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. “What?” You asked nervously, biting down on the bottom lip, desperately trying to hide the smirk that was growing on your face.

“A whiskey girl, eh?”

You shrugged casually, as if it meant nothing. But you both knew it meant everything. It was just strange, he thought — your first interaction just hours ago, the conversation you’d held, and how you were here, now, entangled together. You wiggled your eyebrows at him — and he was surprised that he found it both innocent and incredibly alluring. “Told you it’s dangerous.”

You sipped the very last of your drink before tossing your cup into the waste bin. Fred reckoned he could stay here all night, forgetting about all of the things that kept him up at night, the things that had been making him so bloody prone to unpleasantness for such a long time. He wanted to laugh again. He wanted to smile again. He wanted to love again.

When you cocked your head to the side and smiled softly at him, beginning to mouth the words to the music, he reckoned he might just be able too.

Then you tugged on both of his hands, placed them delicately across your waist as you locked your arms around his neck again, you said over the booming of the next stupid song you’d undoubtedly sing every word too,

“Just dance with me, Freddie.”

[hellothere-generalangsty]

hey hey hey 📝

Hey you 🥰 Let me tell you straight away there's more than one because I'm a sucker for your fics and I will absolutely read all the one I haven't read yet because I just know they're good. I just know it. Same, my absolute favorite is in blue! 💙

@murdertoothpick

________

young volcanoes

Of course I love this one, Fives' fic AND Fall Out Boy?? I knew you would come up with something awesome but this... This is absolutely wonderful.

I just love the delight, the comfort in knowing that the war is over, and there will be no more fight to the death for the clones. For these men who will finally do something else than die; they will finally live.

It's not until Echo nudged him that Fives sees you approach the ramp with quick feet, colliding into him with a force so strong that he stumbles back a little, and yet, it's the most grounded he's felt in a long time.

Again, I screamed a very real scream when I read that. It's sad; but also beautiful, to be the one person that grounds him and offers him enough comfort and care and that feeling of safety-

'Don't ever let me go,' you press into him, and the way he squeezes you just a little tighter makes you melt.

It does make me melt. I am a puddle. This quote alone cured my anxiety. No but; for real; I just love these silent moments. I am very vocal about my emotions and feelings for the people I care about; but sometimes words aren't enough, or argent quite right so we turn to these silent exchanges - a look, a pression, a touch - something to let you know it's okay. I love that.

Fives meets Jesse with a proud grin, his hold on you relenting except for the one arm he keeps around your waist. 'Not tonight vod,' he breathes, meeting your eyes as you turn to face his brother, 'I'm going home.'

And Fives' words repeat softly in your head. He's going home. […]

That home is wherever the other is. It is the one thing that perseveres beyond the war. It is the one constant Fives' has ever had the choice to have, the one thing you'd never give up for anything.

This. This is it.

Being someone's home is so personal and meaningful. The trust, the care, the feeling of safety- everything that comes with the fact that you are someone's home.

And for it to be a constant in a life and a galaxy where everything keeps changing?? It's the same energy as Ari's fic It's been a long, long time.

It's comforting, and it gives me hope. This is the essence of Star Wars - hope - and you depicted it so perfectly.

I am honestly amazed and in love with this fic. (And Fives.)

.

at least, percentage wise

This one was a bit painful but also tender; let me explain.

'Hunter sold me as a droid today.'

He continues, 'I know he doesn't think of me like that but...it was hard enough being treated as a clone and now...I don't know what I even am.'

This. Is very painful.

I absutely love Echo, right. I adore him, he's awesome and handsome and kind and funny and he's Echo.

Yet he doesn't know that. He doesn't know who he is anymore- "what" he is.

What. That's so painfully sad. Like I said clones are already caught in this sort of identity crisis because what are they? Clones? Soldiers? Men? Brothers? Humans?

And now. Now Echo isn't even sure he fits the last category anymore. And it honestly pains me when people call him "android" or "droid man" because he already feels so self-conscious about this. And yes- he has prosthetics and robotics implants- but never should he be considered less of a human because of them. He's still Echo. He's still human.

He changed, but he's still Echo.

His next words are whispered, afraid of receiving an answer. 'Tell me you'd love me more if I weren't...' the words catch in his throat, 'this.'

And this is the moment where I tear up because.

This.

I can hear it. I can hear the pain and the fear in his voice and it honestly breaks. My heart.

How deeply rooted is his self-consciousness? How deep does the self-hatred run for him to think so little of himself??

I hate it here it just makes me so angry and sad for him.

My handsome boy deserves BETTER.

'You handsome man,' you jest, blessing him with a short kiss on the lips. 'You ready to sleep now?.'

I love this because I always call Echo "my handsome boy" or "handsome boy" and that's 1. Because he IS handsome like have you seen the man?? And 2. Because I believe if he hears it all the time he will slowly but surely believe it. He will accept that he's handsome and maybe feel less self- conscious about his body and himself...

I just need him to feel loved and beautiful because he is.

And I mean... Soft. Domestic. "You ready to sleep now?" is something you tell to someone in such a casual yet caring way and I am absolutely here for it.

This fic is just- I would react the same way reader did. It's so obvious to me he's absolutely trustworthy and nice and smart and handsome- he's filled with qualities and so many reasons to love him and care for him.

I mean- Echo. He alone is a valid argument.

Anyway, this fic just has me feeling much love for Echo and you made me fall for him again;;

.

push and pull

'Tsk, why won't you do what I say?'

I read that in his voice every. Single. Time. That's just- so him. 100% pure Crosshair content here.

And "the little umbrella" thing? Tech's remark on the food?

These little funny moments are so soft and a nice contrast to the sometimes sad undertone of the fic! I love that!

'I...like being close to you.'

'It's hard enough letting you in. I don't want my brothers thinking I've gone...soft.'

This. This is also very Crosshair. He's not very vocal, and to see him struggle a bit to confess what's really going on and feel awkward and embarrassed about it is just-

Great. In a sweet way. And the way you write him so well, so accurately-

Yes. 100% yes.

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somewhere only we know

Alright. This fic right here is, I believe, the first one I read from you. At least it marked me enough for me to remember it as the first one.

Anna. This fic right here is. You made me cry. You had me crying while reading it because it's just.

The song alone is already- you know, very bittersweet and nostalgic in a way; and you managed to write something so perfect it's- it's not the fic matching the song. It's the song matching the fic.

I read it again to write this review - with the song on loop obviously - and I got tears again. It's just that powerful.

But your anxiety melts away as he gives you a slight smile, offering his hand to you, 'You'll have to lead the way.' […] He would always trust you, he has never felt otherwise.

I can't even explain how meaningful that it. It means so much to him, and he knows; and you do too. There's a level of trust and intimacy here.

'Just...hold me.'

Don't ask me why, but reader saying this is low-key making me emotional.

'Do you want this?', he murmurs, […].

You take an agonisingly long time to reply, your eyes flit between his, searching for any sign of hesitation, or regret. But you don't find any, as much as Crosshair is good at hiding his emotions behind an impassive and collected facade, you see the silent plea in his eyes, a longing for more.

Tears. Very real tears. The care and respect and trust and love this question alone holds. It's just. So delicate and soft, I just-

And then-

'Are you sure?' he whispers, so close to you, basking in this intimacy.

Girl if you wanted to make me cry you just had to say it, right? Like, don't mind me I'm a sucker for this; being so intimate and respectful of your partner that's like- everything.

Honestly that's what everyone deserves.

He lets out a light laugh, it's beautiful, reverberating deep in your heart, a sound so rare that you try hard to commit it—and the way he looks—to memory.

I promise you...

The candlelight surrounds your face in a halo-like glow like you were sent from heaven. It's a blessing.

...you hold my heart. This is poetry. This is art. This is comforting and lovely. And I am tearing up once again.

Your next words are meek, whispered, hidden away from the outside world, but you bare your soul to him anyways.

You almost don't hear it, but the way the words vibrate against your skin as he spills himself inside you makes it impossible for them not to be heard.

You wrote the words; but honestly I didn't even needed to read them to cry. It's just so vulnerable. They are both in a situation were they are literally and metaphorically naked, and there's nothing else but them - everything else fades away without them noticing and it's just.

Them.

And they allow themselves to be so vulnerable, finally, after all the build-up and the obstacles of the war and the downfall of the galaxy and the chip. After loosing each other and finding their way back to each other.

And finally allowing themselves to be so vulerable, so exposed to each other-

Brb gotta cry some more.

He takes one of your hands in his, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. 'Just getting you a cloth Cya'rika.'

Your mouth opens in an Oh, and you gingerly nod at him. 'Okay, sorry,' you give him the most beautiful smiles he's ever seen, and there's a part of him that has changed its mind about leaving you even for a second.

I can't even. Explain. How sweet this is. No words can express what I'm feeling as I read this. The comfort. The reassuring tone. The f**king Mando'a nickname.

Your arms open pathetically when he lets go of you, an invite for him to join you under the covers. But he looks at you in pure adoration, a sight that's so peaceful, so domestic, that he finds himself letting his mind wander, imagining that this temporary room was a home, a place where he could spend the rest of his days with you, away from war and the empire.

My heart is aching. A lot. It's so peaceful yet so tragic in a way, but they don't see that. Again, it's just them; this moment of intimacy, of domestic life where nothing else matter but what they are sharing right now.

Somewhere only we know.

.

alone together

This fic is awesome. I love the dynamic between reader and Crosshair, there's this very obvious alchemy between them and you manage to write about it with limited dialogue and amazing descriptions. I am absolutely in awe.

Also- Confident Reader? Love that! Especially in a Crosshair fic! And it's great because we also see a glimpse of Crosshair having self-esteem issues, so there's a sort of shift where for once Crosshair doesn't have the "upper hand" and reader isn't all shy and flustered you know (though I absolutely love these kind of fics too!)

But yeah- their dynamic was really interesting!

.

heartbeat

Another Crosshair fic because I love him and you really write him so well and in-character.

'I like...hearing your heartbeat.'

This little hesitation is everything. And it's so... So personal and delicate.

Someone's heartbeat. That's life pulsing through their body. That's very symbolic too; we usually link strong feelings like love and care to the heart, and to lay there with someone and enjoy listening to that life pulsing-

Yeah I'm getting soft again

'I'm not moving,' he grumbles, pressing himself further into you and sighing in relief.

This is so lovely; him holding on tighter because he doesn't want to move, because he feels good here and that's the best way he found to let you know...

I just love your takes on Soft!Crosshair, you really know what you're writing about.

.

hands meet

I tried to draw Hunter. With the sunglasses and the shirt and him trying to be cool.

I shall do that drawing again because it's absolutely HILARIOUS and I just adore this fic because it's so light-hearted and sweet and funny!

It's a feel-good fic, the one you read when you need to clear your head a bit; and I promise you the laugh I had reading it!

And I just love the dynamic between Hunter and reader; it's awkward yet there's a lot of alchemy and you just know they do like each other a lot and are just struggling to express it directly.

That's very sweet and I love that.

Love it.

________

So yeah! Again, it was longer than expected but I am not sorry because you deserve to know how much I love these fics and how you also hold my heart in your hands with these.

You're an amazing - incredible - writer and I love how you bring these very human and realistic elements to your stories. It just makes them even more relatable and enjoyable, even if sometimes it's painful, and that's what I love so much about your writing.

Also I absolutely love how you incorporate lyrics between in your writings

Anyway- love u Anna, love your writing, you're amazing!!

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

series rating: R (18+) | genre: historical drama au!; king seokjin! au; established relationship! au; royalty! au!; 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of an abuse by Y/N’s stepmama; mentions of death; ANGST; horny ass jinnie and y/n; groping; unprotected sex bc condoms werent invented yet; fingering; edging if ya squint; impregnation kink; voyeurism; oral m and f receiving; slight degradation; good god i have never written this much filth in my life, brb gotta go to church;

word count:  6.3k

g/n: hEY HEY HEY BACK WITH THE SMUT YALL; anywho a few disclaimers before u read this sweetie, YES, its Jung Jungkook for a reason, you’ll see soon enough ;) also,,,, there might be a few korean words thrown in there but ya know context clues or u could search them up too if u want,,,, but i’ll also be placing them at the end of this post for ya <3 P.S. this is also going to turn into a series y’aLLLL GAHHHH

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

It’s with Seokjin’s relentless pounding from behind you that you figure that the council meeting probably didn’t go well today. You’ve discovered that times of intimacies like these were a way to relieve himself of the stresses of being a newly pronounced king. Not that you were complaining though.

His fingers find your clit with practiced ease, rubbing at sensitive nub with great fervor. Seokjin’s punishing thrusts become slower as you both reached your highs, his cock falling limp shortly after he pulls out of you. Reaching over to the nearby table, he grabs a towel and dips it on the bowl of water, wiping away traces of his climax between your thighs. He pulls up his pants previously bunched in his ankles and arranges the rest of his durumagi, removing any possible evidence of your quick fuck.

“Council meeting went bad?” you asked, rubbing at your numbing forearms due to your husband’s forceful movements against the table he’d fucked you against. Seokjin briefly throws a sheepish look your way, guessing  you have finally figured out his nasty antics of de-stressing, but his beautiful face turns serious as he once again reminded of his responsibilities as king.

“Well with Minseok’s recent death, the dried-up lands in the far east, and an uprising rebellion in the south, I can’t say the meeting went particularly…peaceful,” Seokjin heaves a sigh and rests his hands on his knees.

Minseok was a trusted royal guard, serving Seokjin’s family for nearly all his life and had perished due to an attack during a visit to the southern city. While Minseok’s death caused a great loss in the palace, his blood symbolized the initial step towards an uprising, spurring on the southern troops even further.

With your back facing him, you felt remorseful as your hand subconsciously reaches for the south’s emblem given by your father, hidden beneath the thick collar of your hanbok – a harsh reminder that you were once from the southern palace – and yet you couldn’t do anything to help your king.

It was one thing being only half royalty and another being the only heir to the throne. After multiple tries, prayer movements, and endless offerings, the real queen of the south proved to be infertile and could not bear a child for the king. In the past however, a childless monarch proved to be an advantage to those who attempted to overthrow the throne. Hence your biological father, the king, decided that he needed to have an heir at once. However, the only other lady your dad would trust with such great feat is the head court lady, your mom, who became the king’s only concubine – ergo, your coming into this world.

Your father acknowledged you as his daughter the moment he heard your first cry as a newborn, much to the queen’s repressed opposition. She knew she had no other choice but to give in to your father’s recognition, but her display of hatred for you never stopped at your birth. Your life was an endless tale of narrow escapes from her atrocities.

On the bright side, you maintained a healthy relationship with your father, he taught you how to read and write, he showed you the ins and outs of the city, gave you your first archery lesson, and even taught you a thing or two about politics and diplomacy. You were well-founded for a girl your age, considering that women in your society were only perceived to be bearers of children and raisers of the young instead of hitting sack targets on a moving horse and being deployed on diplomatic affairs.

Life was almost perfect if it weren’t for your very promising antagonist of stepmother. The rest of the palace, your father included, regarded her as your stepmother, but she never came close to being a motherly figure in your life. Quite frankly, you knew she wanted you dead even before you grew a heart – probably the only reason why she wasn’t blessed with a child. The two-headed snake deserved it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only victim of her cruelty. As you grew up, you knew she was bound to get worse, it didn’t come as much of a shock when you heard of her plans to murder your father and your biological mother. What you didn’t expect though that the breakfast you’d shared with your father that morning was the last time you’ll ever see him.

You fled from the palace that night, bumping into Seokjin as you exited the gates of the palace. He recognizes your face from previous council meetings and have been acquainted with each other as members of royalty, but he’s never seen you in such a state of distress. Before he could ask you why you were running away from the palace at such hour, you mounted his horse and pleaded to him to take you anywhere else but your home – your previous home.

One look at your tear-stained face was all he needed and he turned his horse around, despite questioning looks he got from his guards. He had brought you back to the capital and took you in the palace. Soon friends turned to lovers and the rest is history.

Seokjin notices your silence and he’s come up from the edge of the bed to envelop you in his arms. “A frown isn’t fitting for a queen,” he takes your chin between his fingers and turns your face towards him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks, confused by the frown drawn upon your face.

“I just…” you start off, but when your fingers find the cold metal of the necklace, you fall silent again. Seokjin sighs as he finally catches on your despondence and gives you a tighter hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead.

For once in a long time, you felt like it was just the two of you again alone in the room, alone in the world. Just two lovers, no treacherous stepmothers, no responsibilities, no nation to take care of. Your mind races back to the memories of you sneaking out of the palace to your agreed rendezvous or walking to your secret garden to talk about your daily endeavors. Seokjin made this cruel world more bearable and you will always be eternally grateful for that. He would always shower you with the greatest support and understanding, fully aware of what you have been deprived of during your childhood.

Seokjin on one hand feels equally thankful to have you enter his life, to have you as his wife. He had always admired your knowledge in various things and he frequently shows fondness for your wit in a very remarkable way – like that one time he had brought you to a council meeting to share your ideas (a taboo in the culture – seeing as women weren’t cut in making political decisions) and called an advisor an imbecile for suggesting a huge increase in taxes when a fourth of the city was struggling with famine. Needless to say, Seokjin found the sight of you standing up to his advisors more than arousing so he had sent everyone home at once and two minutes after everyone had left, he already had you bent over his desk, fucking you into oblivion.

Your husband leaves shortly after taking a few scrolls from the shelves before inviting you to dinner, winking as he leaves your room, telling you that he has specially requested the kitchen to cook your favorite dish for dinner tonight. You take a bath during your husband’s absence, indulging yourself in a milk bath, while the servants scrub at your back and arms. As a child, the southern palace only afforded you cold baths with the heat in the south constantly unbearable but mainly because the queen was adamant on treating you badly. She’d made sure you regularly bathe in cold ones, even worse during the winter. You couldn’t keep count of the times you had to be rescued back to life by the court ladies after nearly shivering to death.

The servants take their leave as they’ve scrubbed most of the expanse of skin you’ve exposed for them to exfoliate and you sink further into the pool, a variety of petals floating around and about as you create ripples with your hands.

“My Queen,” a court lady bows her head as she enters your chambers. “The King requests your presence for the inauguration of the new king’s guards,” she informs, not meeting your eyes as you wear your undergarments. You give her a hum of approval and wait for the servants to finish braiding your hair so you could accompany your husband during the ceremony.

You can feel the pebbles under your shoes move with the steady beat of the drums. The inauguration was supposed to be held a few more months later but because of the death of Minseok, the ceremony had to be moved to an earlier date. You were about to turn the corner when the someone in torn, ragged clothes ran in front of you, your guards ushering you backwards to protection. With two watchmen already following the man, two from your group follow to see what the scurry is all about.

The remaining guards that are with you lead you towards the field quickly to evade any further commotion. When you reach where Seokjin is situated, he acknowledges you briefly, worry swimming in his eyes. You place a comforting hand on his to assure him that there is nothing to be worried about. Once you have settled in your seat, a guard comes up to Seokjin’s side and the drums stop. “Your Royal Highnesses, King Seokjin and the Queen.” Your husband raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd surrounding the field, all present to witness the ceremony.

“Let the inauguration of the new royal guards begin.”

The drums fall into a steady rhythm once again, men clad in red and white silk uniforms pile in groups of twenty. Applause falls within the crowd, hands busy clapping for the newly inducted protectors of the palace. You see a few girls displaying themselves by the corner where the guards enter the field. They mask their flirtatious looks under the guise of modesty, covering their powdered faces with fans while sending coquettish looks to the guards.

Seokjin lets out a chuckle when he follows your line of vision and you reply deftly “I don’t blame them. I’d definitely do the same when you’re in your uniform.” You try your best not to wink at your husband especially at a public gathering like this, but your witty effort to get him to stop judging you has proved to be effective. You know he is most likely going to punish you about this tonight and the idea already has you squirming in your seat.

“My King, may I present to you the new captain of the royal guards, Jung Jungkook of the east.” A man from the first row steps forward. “My King, my Queen.” He acknowledges your presence, bowing from the waist. Jung Jungkook drops to the ground, his weight resting on one leg. He draws his sword, plunges it to the ground – the sound of metal slicing through the soil ringing throughout the field. “I am Jung Jungkook from the Jung clan of the east. My father has served the royal family for many years and has perished terribly during the attack of the South. I am here to restore the honor to my family by serving your highness, to serve the capital, and to avenge my late father.” His head is hung low, yet he is breathing heavily, the weight of his emotions too heavy on his shoulders.

Seokjin leans forward, “Your father has fought well and there is no greater honor than to die for the safety of your countrymen. I am glad he has a son to continue the legacy of your family. Stand, Jung Jungkook, for I know your father’s soul is now at peace.” The man complies and speaks, “Long live King Seokjin, long live the capital!” The rest of the two hundred men follow suit. The citizens join in on the cheering but your eyes linger on the new captain and the faded scar on his left cheek.

The turmoil in the south has worsened during the past few weeks. You rarely see your husband nowadays, constantly trapped for hours on end inside the four walls of his office. You can feel the pressure of being the king taking its toll on him. The servants tell you that he barely touches his food and that your husband also always comes in late at night and leaves early at dawn to work. It’s bringing you great worry that Seokjin couldn’t properly take care of himself nowadays.  

Your attempts to aide him during these stressful times prove to be futile, especially with his damned advisors who keep on barring you from entering his office or attending the council meetings. It is believed anyways that the queen only tends to matters of the royal household and that women have no right to give counsel. Unfortunately for them, you are no ordinary queen nor are you just a queen. You are also the wife of your beloved husband and a handful of stubborn councilmen has never stopped you before.

While the royal advisors are busy wasting too much time on a singular issue, you went out on your own to witness the effects of the famine of the east. Most of the crops that were delivered throughout the country was produced in the east because of their healthy soil and the waters surrounding the city. When a month has passed and there were still no signs of rain in the east, you know this was going to cause a huge problem and eventually another predicament for Seokjin. You had lived long enough in the onerous south to witness problems like this turn into bigger ones.

You have made arrangements to visit the city and so far, your plan going smoothly as planned. You manage to sneak out of the royal seamstress’ room after paying her a decent amount of silver coins for a commoner’s dress. It’s getting late and your husband will be returning to your room soon so you trudge back a little faster just to make it in time. When you reach the back door to your room, you see two guards lounging stand up abruptly at your presence. “M-my q-queen,” he bows, not meeting your eyes. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell anybody.”

Seokjin enters the room just when you’re stood in front of the mirror, hands removing the pins from your head. He slides the wooden door gently and sends you a small smile through the reflection on your mirror. “Why don’t I help you with that?” You gently decline his offer, not wanting to bother your exhausted king with any more chores. It’s unfair how he is still impeccably handsome even with the weariness evident on his face. Seokjin still insists though, claiming that a king’s functions should not be an excuse to escape those of a husband’s. “And besides, I ought to know how to do this if we’ll have a daughter in the future.” The statement was supposed to be a genuine shot at what the future might hold but your body’s treacherous response is far from the innocence of Seokjin’s statement.

Just the thought of it has heat pooling in your abdomen. You haven’t had enough time in your hands to spend time to think about things like that, Seokjin being a newly-crowned king, more so as a newly-wedded couple.

Your husband notices the deep breath you take, his eyes slowly getting darker by the second. He takes the last golden pin from your braids, letting your hair fall into loose waves. You feel relieved when the strain on your scalp melts away in seconds – something that you should’ve been used to by now, considering that you have been royalty all your life, but nothing beats that fresh wave of relief when you free your hair from all the pins and ribbons. That’s why when Seokjin cards his fingers through your locks, you feel the rising of the small hairs at the back of your neck, such mundane action bordering on sensual.

He does this a few more times in silence, just combing through your hair gently, deeming that seeing you fall into such comfort like this is enough for him. His chaste intentions though are all thrown aside when you lean against him, your undone hanbok falls from your shoulder, exposing the skin there in all its glory. Your husband takes all your hair and transfers it on your left shoulder and you tilt your head to the same side, giving him space where he could pepper all his kisses on.

He murmurs sweet nothings against your skin while sending fleeting kisses from your ear’s helix, to your cheek, you jawline then down to your shoulders. “Little you and me running around…” he murmurs while pushing the rest of your hanbok off your body. It doesn’t take much effort, the silken cloth sliding down easily and now you’re just left in your undergarments.

“Would you like that, my queen?” Seokjin asks, fingers thumbing the ribbon that’s keeping together the last layer of clothing you have on. It takes only one breathy ‘yes’ from you and the cloth covering your intimacies falls altogether, leaving no trace of modesty.

He cups both breasts in each palm, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Your nipples are firm, already hardened by the worshipping kisses he places all over. He trails a finger along your jaw, turning your face toward him. His lips meet yours, plump lips pressing gently against your own. When you figure he’s about to pull away, he grips your ass and you gasp, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage. It’s been too long since you had seen your husband so… sensual. Usually, you’re both in a rush with the sole intent of getting some release but tonight, it seems as if Seokjin is determined to take his time in claiming all of you in the most intimate of ways, slowly but surely like it’s the last night of his life.

Seokjin savors every moan, every whimper as his deft fingers roam your body. He loves every curve and dip; how soft and taut it is at the same time. The milk baths you’ve always indulged in and your younger days of archery and horse riding had definitely done you good. He tries to etch them all into his memory though he knows flashes of images of you in his brain could never give justice to the reality of having you in his arms.

His fingers reach your cunt and he cups it, making you lean further against him for support. You feel the fine sheen of sweat of his torso on his back and for a moment you wonder how he’s managed to take his to take his top off without taking a hand off you. He pulls you away from your thoughts when he tugs you closer to him, shamelessly grinding his erection against your ass. He finds your clit easily through memory, rubbing the sensitive nub, fingers moving slowly in circular motions.

“S-seokjin please,” you beg, knowing you’re nearly there but still so far away, far too greedy to orgasm on clitoral stimulation alone. You needed him inside you. Now. “Speak up, my love,” he orders, shallowly dipping a finger in your cunt and withdrawing it just as quick. “Please. Y-you. Need y- “You’re rendered breathless by his teasing, your hand traveling to tug at his hair. “You want me to put a baby in you, hmm?” He finally pushes a finger in. “You’d love that don’t you? Having to carry the next heir to the throne inside you?” Another finger breaches you, Seokjin chuckling when you let out a loud gasp.

He nips at the shell of your ear, reminding you of the presence of the guards outside in a low whisper. Your hand instantly moves to cover your mouth but Seokjin grabs you by the wrists. “Who told you to cover your mouth, hmm? We both know you want the whole palace to hear how filthy their queen is.” Seokjin must admit, the whole idea is just as pleasing to him as it is to you. You were practically squelching when his fingers quicken the pace, your orgasm coming to you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his fingers toying with your cunt too much for you to handle that you are unable to stop your lover’s name fall like a prayer on your lips. Your whole body trembles in his grip, legs threatening to give in. A whimper escapes you when he pulls his fingers out, sending him a glare through the mirror. You were so, so close.

“My love, as much as I enjoy seeing you wrecked under my touch through the mirror, we have to take this to the bed.” He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and tugs at your arm, but you stand your ground. You wag a finger at him, ‘tsk’-ing at his impatience. Not until he’d have a taste of his own medicine.

You let your finger trail along his torso, tracing the outlines of his abdominals. Imitating your husband’s  earlier torturous ministrations, you take your time with him, reveling in how much you’ve affected him – how his breathing is getting more labored by the second. You run a finger along the length of his shaft still covered by his pants. He’s already hard, you reckon, feeling it slightly twitch under your touch.

Slowly, you lower down on your knees, tugging his pants down along with your descent. The sight of his cock makes you wet your lips, too eager to please. “My love, you don’t have to,” his hands hover yours that are resting on his hips. It’s not that he didn’t want your mouth on his cock but he just wanted to drawl out this evening for as long as he could. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to release in your mouth without having felt your velvety walls first.

“I want to.” Not wanting to wait any longer, you tentatively place a kiss on the bulbous head, making Seokjin gasp at the contact. You get bolder, gathering some of the precum that has gathered on the tip spreading it along his length your tongue. Using the armrests as leverage, you straighten your back and finally take him in your mouth. Seokjin deems he’ll never get used to this feeling. You vaguely hear him groan above you, but you’re far too busy pushing his shaft farther inside.

You briefly gaze at him through your eyelashes. It’s unfair, you reckon, that even when your lamps cast this golden glow to only one side of his face, he’s just as ethereal as under the light of day. You take him in your mouth as far as you can. When Seokjin throws his head back in pleasure with his wonderfully thick neck on display only for you to see, it ignites a carnal desire in you, so you push yourself further. When he finally hits the back of your throat, you swallow and your husband chokes on air, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the armrests.

It’s an arduous task, having to try and take control of your breathing as you pleasure your husband. You move up then down slowly until you find a steady rhythm. You feel your eyes water with the pace until his chest starts heaving and you know he’s nearing his climax. “N-no. P-please,” your husband pleads, each word brokenly spoken. Tugging at your hair slightly, he pries you off his mouth, releasing a sigh of relief when you take your mouth off him.

“Bed now.” With your knees still sore from kneeling too long, it takes you some time to get up. Impatiently, the moment you get one of your knees off the ground he hooks his arm below them and lifts you off the ground, carrying you bridal style. “Stop trying to stall.” Seokjin huffs, his lips forming a pout. You giggle at his cuteness, of course even at a time like this, he manages to make you smile like a kid with candy.

He lays you gently on the bed, your hair fanning out on the pillows. He caresses your face with the pads of his fingers and you find yourself leaning against his touch. “My queen,” he sighs, “Your beauty is unrivaled. Truly.” Your lips meet when he closes the distance between the two of you. He stays like that for a moment, his swollen lips placed on top of yours until he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You fervently kiss each other, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes pry open again only to see your husband’s teary ones.

“Seokjin-ie, are you okay? What’s the matter?” He shakes his head, replying, “You’re just so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife.” Your face crumples at his words and you give him another kiss. “How could you possibly think that when so many other women who vying for my position right now? Both literally and figuratively. You’re glad when you get a chuckle out of Seokjin. “As much as I want to argue about who’s the luckier one, I have a more pressing problem. And it’s getting really painful, so please…” His lips close in on one of your breasts, your hand flying up to pull at his hair.

Once again, you’re a moaning mess beneath Seokjin. You’re whining, begging for more than the assault he’s doing on your breasts. He doesn’t waste time in complying with your whims, your legs spreading apart when he shifts his position above you. He braces himself on one arm and you hiss as he swipes against your folds, taking some of the wetness on his palm and rubbing it onto his cock. When he pushes slowly against your entrance, you whimper as he gradually sinks into you. Gods, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to him.

When he’s fully sank into you to the hilt, he pauses, knowing that you’ll need a moment for the pain to subside into pleasure. Seokjin places kisses your shoulders as he waits for you to adjust to the feeling. You push your hips up, encouraging him to move. Dragging his cock out slowly, he pushes back down just as languidly. “Jin, please,” you beseech, goading him to go faster. The moment the word escapes your lips, Seokjin begins pounding into you relentlessly. He hastily places a pillow under your hips to angle yours better. The next thrust he gets in has you mewling, each stroke easily rubbing up against your g-spot.

Your thighs begin quivering, every fiber of your body ablaze with each plunge of your husband’s hips. Seokjin feels your impending orgasm with your cunt beginning to pulsate against his cock, and he moves one of his hands between your thighs and starts to toy vigorously with your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, fisting the sheets that now haphazardly dangling from the bed. Your high hits you so strong, your pussy tightening, clamping around Seokjin. His thrusts begin to stutter as you continue to milk his cock. With one final push, Seokjin cums, releasing ropes of cum inside you. He stays on top of you for a moment, too exhausted and worn out to move an inch. Also, because he wishes that this time it finally gets you pregnant, that your earlier inclination to the idea of having a baby inside you is as enthralling as it is to him.

Seokjin finally pulls out of you with a small grunt, elbows that have been holding up his weight finally give in, breathing heavily as he falls to your side.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

In fact, when he heard the first moan that fell from your lips, he had sent the rest of the guards to go on patrol to give you and your husband the much-needed privacy. He had intended to keep lookout from the front of the hanok. With one more corridor to clear out before leaving, he took his steps with caution, knowing that this passage was the one next to your room. The palace’s wooden walls will never be thick enough to hide the sounds of pleasure. His ears are already ringing with the faint sound of your moans but there was one section where the sweet sound was most audible. The door to your room was slightly open, the light from your lamps passing through the narrow slit.

He tries to push away the temptation, reminding himself that he has other duties to attend to… right?

Surely, the rebellious troops would have been subdued before they reach the palace…right?

Ultimately, he can’t leave with you sounding so desperate and broken…right?

He knew his resolve was breaking with every step he took nearer towards the thin beam of light.  He takes the final step with bated breath, wincing when the wood creaks under his weight. He lets out a shaky exhale when he finally peeks through the crevice. Your bed is situated right across from where he’s watching – the whole scene like a live show from a festival. He knows this is wrong, that what happens inside the four walls of your chambers is none of his business but when he sees the king flip you and take you from behind, his lips part, suddenly out of breath like he’s the one pounding into you.  

The voyeur continues to watch the whole spectacle with an unrelenting gaze. He watches the unsuspecting royals get lost in their own world while he lingers in perverse amusement. The strain in his silk pants is getting painful, uncomfortable too when the tip of his cock brushes against the wet patch on the cloth. He reproaches himself for his lack of manners tonight but if this mischief shall reward him with a release later on, then he shall remain here, unperturbed.

Moments later Seokjin’s hips stutter and he feels his own hands lose rhythm as well. Your loud moans fill the room as you reach your high, your husband following. His hand moves faster than before, white spurts of cum coating his hand not long after. He shivers when he pulls his pants back up, the silk proving to be too much for the sensitive tip of his cock. When his eyes revert back to the crevice, he sees Seokjin trace patterns on your back while the both of you murmur softly in each other’s arms. Your husband gives you a chaste kiss, lips closing in on the shell on your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. He takes this as his cue to leave, hoping that no other guard has lingered around long enough to see him leave the house.

Fortunately, no one sees the dazed captain walk out of the hanok in the middle of the night.

You are momentarily awakened from a fleeting kiss placed on your cheek, the back of your hands rubbing at your drooping eyelids. Body still sore from your activities last night, you blindly reach out for the blue cloak in front of you as you call out your husband’s name. “I hadn’t meant to wake you from your slumber, my love. Go back to sleep.” He strokes your hair gently while humming a soft melody to lull you back to your slumber.

There’s an ache on his chest when he watches sleep take over you once more, soft snores escaping your lips. Seokjin wonders if he would get to see you this peaceful one more time. You shift in your sleep, the blanket revealing purplish marks littered across your chest. Normally, this would’ve sent all his blood pumping south but with the emotion weighing on his shoulders, all he’s thinking about is engraving your beauty into his memory.

The present disposition in his hands had monopolized his time and because of this he knew he had been neglecting you these past few weeks. He wasn’t able to check up on you, ask how your day went, or even join supper, hence your intimacies last night.  Although your husband knew that after all these years together, you were never one to demand affection because you were well aware of his duties as ruler of a nation. Funnily enough, it was he who yearned for that most of time, while you would remind him of his obligations with a chortling intonation.

Usually, you would push him away when he tries to lavish you with kisses even with the guards and court ladies present, but he knew deep inside that you secretly enjoyed them, cheeks turning a rosy red every time he teases you about it. Albeit being born into royalty, you were treated like a slave by your own step-mother so Seokjin knew it would have taken some time before he had successfully lured you out of your shell. And he knew he had forever to show you the love that you were deprived of. Or did he now?

He recalls the time you had both met in your secret rendezvous. It was a garden exhibiting the most gorgeous fusion of pink and green, cultivated to perfection by Seokjin himself and of course with the help of a few chosen gardeners. Included in the garden was a narrow passage with water directly flowing from the Gaeun River. The secluded site was a testament to Seokjin’s love for the color pink. Flowers of all shades of blush are scattered among the lush green grass, from Azaleas to Carnations to Peonies. ‘Most are from foreign lands’ he informs, carefully plucking out a flower and handing one to you. A blush instantly colors your cheeks at this and Seokjin finds it most endearing, unable to resist teasing you. “You seem to blend in just fine with my flowers,” he observes, poking your cheeks, “but you stand out the most.”

Amongst the rosy hued shrubs and mossy rocks, on a small slope stood a singular cherry blossom tree - your most favorite feature of all. Cherry blossoms had always been known to symbolize the transience of life and rebirth. True to your ancestors’ beliefs, this special tree was tangible proof of the metaphor. The tree had witnessed quite a number of your most cherished moments in life. This was where Seokjin brought you when you broke down into tears after escaping the southern palace, this was where he first pecked you on the cheek, and this same tree witnessed Seokjin’s humble request for your hand in marriage.

Regret weighs heavily on him. You were the only constant reality he had in this capricious life. You had been nothing but perfect, always by his side no matter what. Having to bid his farewell like this broke his heart but if he properly did so, it would probably break his heart all the more. Your husband had already made up his mind – he is to leave for the South before the dawn breaks.

Seokjin was hanging onto that small sliver of hope that a discussion on the dilemma may change their minds. The situation in the southern city had inevitably worsened but he had to try. He could be very persuasive if he wanted to, sure, but you always knew it wouldn’t work. Not by a long shot. You made sure to remind him of that fact. That’s why you never supported the idea of visiting the city especially at a time of agitation like this. The southerners are men honed by war and they are not called the nation’s keepers for nothing. They are willing to sacrifice lives rather than heed diplomacy. It had proved beneficial in the past when foreigners wanted to colonize your country, but with a turmoil conceived by its own countrymen, these people are all the more fueled to fight for what they believe in.

Then again, this was his decision. He had to try. He was willing to risk everything for his nation, even if it meant that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing your face. He wanted to be selfish, just this once, to give in to the matters of the heart, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, then all his parent’s teachings would have been for nothing. Being born into royalty couldn’t have meant anything. Being the king then would lose its meaning.

With tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, he retrieves a scroll, his brush, and an ink block. ‘This all seems unreal’, Seokjin reels. He only takes out the three when he’s making a new proclamation or with pronouncements usually related to the duties of a king. You two could only stay apart for so long and at the end of the day you’d always find yourselves each other’s arms. Not once did he imagine having to write you a letter, let alone one bidding you farewell.

Patches of tears soften different spots on the previously coarse scroll. With dawn fast approaching, Seokjin ends his letter with a lingering kiss on the paper. He retrieves a flower that he’s plucked from the garden and places it together with the scroll he’s left on the bedside table. Seokjin kisses you on the cheek one last time, “Goodbye, my queen.”

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved. 

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Kamino Arc, Kidnapping & Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Bakugou Gets A Hug

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Content warning for kidnapping, aftermath of violence. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

i’m gonna die (sent 19:08)

no seriously i’m this 👌🏻 close to losing it bro (sent 19:08)

aizawa’s voice is so zzzz and it’s like sir,, i’m begging,,,, (sent 19:09)

a little bit of energy. just a little bit (sent 19:09)

A nudge to his side, somewhat urgent.

shit brb (sent 19:10)

“Dude.”

Kirishima keeps his voice down to a hiss, shooting a glance at Aizawa’s turned back just in case. Hidden behind his pencil case, his phone shows Bakugou has read his messages – near-immediately, as always – before Kirishima locks the screen. His own face is reflected on sleek, innocent black.

Next to him, Kaminari is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t dude me, dude”, he whispers back. “Texting in Aizawa’s class? D’you have a death wish?”

Next to Kaminari, Mina leans over her desk, clearly curious and uncaring of her notes crinkling quietly under her elbows. “You? Kiri, paragon of wholesomeness and sunshine, breaking the rules? Lemme guess, it’s because of Bakugou.”

Next to Mina, Sero joins the fray with a muted headshake. “So brave yet so reckless. Truly inspiring.”

“You can say that again. That guy’s scary, man.” That’s Kaminari again. He leans in conspiratorially, nodding at Kirishima’s phone. “You got Blasty’s number? How? He almost bit my head off when I invited him to the 1-A chat.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re besties. But guys…”

If they were anywhere else, Kirishima would let out a whine. All he wanted to do was keep himself awake by texting his bro, is that such a crime? Especially since Bakugou’s the only one of ‘em who is actually allowed out there, where the fun stuff is happening. It’s downright cruel to have a new challenge dangled in front of their eyes like the juiciest steak only to be dragged away to the equivalent of plain steamed broccoli. Or something.

Point is: Kirishima’s bored enough he could cry and Aizawa, bless his insomnia-plagued soul, is making it about a thousand times worse with his monotone mumbling while he continues to write whatever-the-fuck in chalk to illustrate his point.

Three mouths open simultaneously in what Kirishima knows will be a too-loud bout of teasing – a frantic gesture of his hand to shut up, shut up, shut up has identical grins bursting on his friends’ faces.

Grins that disappear the instant the familiar sense of Aizawa’s quirk washes over them. Uh oh.

Aizawa doesn’t even have to say anything. Not even a brief pause registers in his lecture yet Kirishima snaps to attention so hard his buttcheeks clench as he furiously scribbles down what’s on the board. Some sort of… diagram? (It’ll make sense later, Kirishima hopes. And if it doesn’t, there’s always his equally draconic tutor-slash-best-friend he can poke into helping him eventually.)

After a semester at U.A., everyone in 1-A is whipped enough that not a single word is breathed between them for a good fifteen minutes. Aizawa talks, they take notes.

Then the adrenaline wears off and Kirishima finds himself drifting once more, fingers automatically flicking the home button. There, over Crimson Riot’s confident grin, three new messages.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

pay attention (received 19:14)

ffs (received 19:14)

hope aizawa murdered your ass (received 19:16)

No surprises there. Well, the fact that Bakugou has deigned to reply just before a training exercise kind of is, and he even triple-texted which makes a sappy part of Kirishima’s brain think he must’ve rubbed off on him over the past months. The day Bakugou Katsuki discovers emojis can’t be far off now and it will be Kirishima’s greatest achievement to date.

He bites his lip to suppress an amused noise at that. Ignoring the incredulous stare from Kaminari to his right, Kirishima types.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

haha! i lived bitch (sent 19:32)

minus the bitch askdjfhsk sry (sent 19:32)

i’m just tired af lol (sent 19:32)

how’s things on ur end tho? (sent 19:34)

no asses left unkicked i’m sure (sent 19:34)

👊🏻💥💥 (sent 19:35)

Kirishima gets about a solid second to feel good about furthering his pro-emoji agenda before his phone is snatched away by rigid, white cloth. Wide-eyed, his gaze is met by a flat expression that exudes more exhaustion than any human should rightfully have to feel.

“Kirishima”, Aizawa says, as calm as ever. “How kind of you to lend me your attention.”

Lord have mercy. Whichever hell Aizawa is about to unleash on him, Kirishima will be in it for a while. And when that’s over, it’ll be Bakugou’s turn to have a field day with it.

Somehow, Kirishima is actually looking forward to that last part.

*

Then, a voice rings out in their heads. Aizawa jumps into motion. The villains strike.

Afterwards, all Kirishima can do is stand there and watch the forest burn. His phone is silent, held between fingers that won’t stop trembling no matter what he does. He unlocks, checks, locks, only to do it all over again a few minutes or seconds later.

Around him, everything is spinning out of control. Reality is too loud, too bright, already overwhelming where it waits to be acknowledged beyond the soothing green interface of his chat with Bakugou.

The messages are still there. Marked read until they aren’t, and Kirishima stares at that subtle difference like it’s the last thing tethering him to the ground. Blue tick, his best friend is fine. Grey tick–

Bakugou let Kirishima take a photo of him, once. Kirishima had complained about his profile picture being that creepy default silhouette, especially once they started texting on a daily basis. So Bakugou sighed and leaned over the tiny table of the café, his chin propped on one hand and his coffee in the other. He’d kept still just long enough for the shutter to go off and called him a clingy bastard right after.

In the soft morning light, there’d been something warm in his typical glare. It’s still there, tucked away in the top left corner of the screen. Fond, red eyes, looking straight at Kirishima ever since.

Higher and higher, the flames reach for the sky with greedy, cobalt fingers, bright enough to take the stars with them. And Bakugou?

Bakugou is gone.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

hey (sent 23:01)

it’s a long shot but (sent 23:03)

are u there? (sent 23:03)

these are going thru so ur phone is on and i thought (sent 23:08)

idk (sent 23:08)

please respond man (sent 23:37)

please (sent 23:58)

katsuki? (sent 00:40)

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

fuck (sent 3:24)

*

Bakugou Katsuki

um (sent 6:13)

the pros asked for ur number to track it and stuff so i gave it to them (sent 6:13)

turns out almost nobody has it?? so like (sent 6:20)

if u want a new one after all this it’s on me (sent 6:21)

pls don’t be mad haha (sent 6:21)

fuck that actually (sent 7:05)

be as mad as u want baku (sent 7:06)

u can do whatever ok? when u come back (sent 7:09)

free pass. i won’t guard this time (sent 7:09)

just come back (sent 8:00)

they’re looking for u so u gotta come back (sent 8:02)

* 

Baku 💣💥

sry i just (sent 19:55)

ok still going thru (sent 19:55)

that’s good right? (sent 19:57)

i need it to be good (sent 20:05)

yeah (sent 20:06)

*

Baku 💣💥

it’s saturday (sent 2:33)

please be ok (sent 4:46)

i miss u (sent 5:00)

*

Baku 💣💥

we’re on our way katsuki (sent 12:45)

just hold on we’re coming for u (sending…)

wait (sending…)

oh (sending…)

*

Bakugou is quiet.

When all is said and done, injuries patched up and police statements given, Kirishima waits and Bakugou looks… tired. Small. Glancing back at the precinct with eyes a little too wide, a little too hesitant to truly belong to him.

Whatever he’s searching, if he finds it or not – Kirishima can only guess as Bakugou’s shoulders slump further and he mutters, “Let’s just go.”

In retrospect, he was probably talking to his parents. The Bakugous came for their son in a car as expensive as they come, white with chrome highlights and an interior clad entirely in tasteful, beige leather; it’s an aesthetic that’s the antithesis to Katsuki’s. Their expressions are full of love, though, brows drawn in concern carefully left unspoken. His father opens the back door for him first, going for his own in the front, while his mother ruffles Bakugou’s hair within the one-second-window he allows for the touch before shrugging it off.

“Welcome back, brat. We missed ya.”

Familiar phrases laden with far too much weight. From the outside in, it’s just that: Mildly exasperated parents picking up their kid after some school thing that dragged on into the night, or perhaps a late hangout with a friend. No one acknowledges the nightmare-ish three days they’ve left behind by the merit of time passing and the world spinning on and nothing else – the countless people injured or dead, an entire district torn asunder in a conflict much bigger than any of them, especially Bakugou.

Bakugou, who shuffles onto the backseat without saying much of anything. It’s only after Kirishima trails after him and Bakugou’s eyes meet his own over his shoulder that Kirishima realizes that’s what he’s doing.

Then Bakugou’s gaze softens and he kicks the door of the car open wider. “Um”, Kirishima pipes up, the noise of keys clinking together drawing his attention to one Bakugou Mitsuki. “Is it okay if I…?”

She snorts and ruffles his hair, too. “Kid, after what you did tonight, a ride home is the least I can do for ya. C’mon.”

Kirishima bows politely, a mumble of “Thanks, ma’am” waved away immediately. A moment later, Kirishima’s hand is being grabbed and he’s dragged inside. “Get a move on”, Bakugou mumbles, staring pointedly until Kirishima rights himself and digs for the seatbelt with his free hand. The click of the clasp snapping in is oddly loud in the ensuing silence.

It doesn’t last. The moment the engine purrs to life and the lights go off, a heavy guitar riff screeches from cleverly hidden speakers in perfect surround sound and Kirishima jumps. He’s the only one in the car to do so.

“Whoops, my bad”, says Bakugou’s mom as she turns the music down the slightest amount, her smirk – so familiar and yet not – clearly visible in the rear-view mirror. Next to her, Bakugou’s dad chuckles and shakes his head.

Bakugou himself is turned towards the window, the hand against his chin barely hiding the tiny smirk there. Kirishima lets him have it. Anything that’ll replace that lost expression from earlier is good in his books.

“So. Eijirou, right? Nice to finally meet ya.” Mrs. Bakugou checks in with him via the mirror. Her hand rests on the gear selector. “Where to? We’ll bring you home first. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

And oh fuck, Kirishima hasn’t even thought that far ahead yet. When he snuck out of the house a lifetime ago, all his mind was able to process was getting to Bakugou, saving Bakugou, bringing Bakugou back. As much as both his mothers are angels in their own right, they’re also easily worried and twice as buff as him. There haven’t been many occasions which called for them to throw down for their son but they totally would if given half the chance.

If they catch wind of even a fraction of what Kirishima got up to tonight, someone will have to pay. Kirishima’s willing to bet his most prized, limited-edition Crimson Riot figurine that that someone will end up being all of U.A., nationally famous pro heroes or not.

Before any of that can make it out of his mouth, Kirishima’s hand is squeezed and… Oh. Bakugou’s still holding it. Their skin isn’t touching; Kirishima’s sleeve has been pulled down to prevent that.

(It’s one of those things Bakugou does, tracking who and what gets in direct contact with his sweat and how to neutralize it in time. It makes Kirishima’s chest ache that, despite everything that happened, he is still aware of small things like that.)

“He’s crashing at ours tonight”, Bakugou tells his parents rather gruffly. Still looking out the window like there’s nothing unusual about that at all, and Kirishima gapes at him in complete and utter surprise. Bakugou’s grip only tightens.

“Got a problem with that?”

Just like that, Kirishima finds himself able to process speech. “Nope! Not at all. Uh, that is– Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, can I?”

Bakugou’s parents look similarly caught off-guard. To their credit, they merely blink and look at each other, shrugging. Again, it’s the mother who speaks. “That’s Mitsuki and Masaru to you, kid. Let’s go home, then.”

And that’s that. They set off, the car’s movement a quiet thrum that’s drowned out by complicated drum solos and vocals barely scraping past outright growling. Any other day, Kirishima would’ve been ecstatic to finally get to meet the Bakugous. He’d hoard bits and pieces of knowledge about them – such as the fact that Katsuki’s taste in music runs in the family, what the hell – like a dragon does gold coins. The notion that Bakugou invited him to their first sleep-over ever would be the biggest treasure on that pile, for sure.

Because Bakugou Katsuki is anything if not cautious: with his quirk, with his time, with his trust. Because, after days of pacing his room and worrying himself sick and crying until exhaustion took him out, their plan worked.

They pulled it off, Bakugou is back and alive, and Kirishima’s allowed to stay by his side a little bit longer.

He’s here because Bakugou wants him to be and that… feels better than Kirishima can properly put into words. So, no, he doesn’t boast about it, he doesn’t have the energy to – but Kirishima notes and appreciates it nonetheless, relief forming a ball of warmth and light that radiates within him like a tiny sun got stuck between his lungs and his heart. Bit by bit, it melts the tension off Kirishima’s bones until all he can grasp is the steady presence of Bakugou’s hand in his and how heavy his eyelids feel.

Kirishima could sleep for a week straight and still crave a nap afterwards. Probably.

There’s something he has to do before he crashes, though. With a gentle squeeze, he frees his hand to grab his phone and winces at the dozens of unread messages and missed calls that greet him. Both the group he has with his family as well as the one for 1-A have been running hot most of the night, reducing his battery to a pitiful 12%.

Opening up the chat with his moms, Kirishima scrolls to the bottom of the increasingly worried barrage of texts and hesitates, his fingers hovering over the keypad. Once he starts typing, he’ll have about a minute before shit really hits the fan.

💪🏻Kirishima Power 💪🏻

guys i’m so sorry!!! (sent 21:58)

i know ur worried and stuff and i swear i’ll explain later ok?? (sent 21:58)

 just wanna let u know i’m safe!! staying over at baku’s tonight (sent 21:58)

he’s here and safe too (sent 21:58)

🙏🏻🙏🏻 (sent 21:59)

He pauses then, reading that last part over and over again. Safe. Safe, safe, safe. A smile cracks Kirishima’s lips apart and it remains there, steadfast through the flood of new messages rolling in.

*

Bakugou’s room is both everything Kirishima expected it to be and at the same time… not.

It’s huge, for one, the typical bed-wardrobe-desk setup expanded by a couch and a beanbag, a TV with a variety of game systems hooked up to it, a handful of shelves filled to the brim with books and manga and oh, a whole freaking drum set taking up a corner by itself. The walls are plastered with band posters and signed set lists and – less blatant but still there – the odd All Might merch Kirishima knows Bakugou would strangle him for mentioning, so he doesn’t.

What comes out of his mouth is: “Dude! I didn’t know you played drums. That’s so cool!”

Everything is kept in the triad of black-orange-green Kirishima recognizes from a certain hero costume. A few discarded shirts aside, it’s really tidy. So much so that Kirishima feels ashamed of the state of his own room just by seeing this.

The feeling is compounded by Bakugou picking up those shirts and throwing them in the hamper first thing, a quiet tch indicating he’s annoyed by it. Kirishima isn’t up to outing himself as an unrepentant walking mess in comparison – instead, he makes a beeline for the bookshelf with the manga, eyes drawn to a row of covers he’d recognize in a heartbeat.

“Wha– I’ve been looking for these for ages! They’re sold out every time I try to catch up on ‘em.”

A short glance at Bakugou is answered with a shrug and an eye-roll: It’s Bakugou-speak for do whatever the hell you want. Kirishima pulls out the volume he stopped at and leafs through it.

It’s meant as a distraction for Bakugou, a space for him to drop the put-together façade and breathe without people constantly fussing over him. It’s honestly what Kirishima would rather be doing right now (exploring his best bro’s room be damned) but it’s not what Bakugou needs. Well, what Kirishima thinks he needs.

It’s hard to get a read on him without the constant snark and pointed glares. With some dinner in their bellies and Bakugou’s parents now safely downstairs, the expression that fits nowhere on the Angry Bakugou Face catalogue is back. Kind of uncomfortable and so… absent.

Kirishima is really starting to hate that expression.

It’s entirely accidental that Kirishima actually gets into reading. One chapter turns to three, turns to five, and the troubles and worries whirling ever-tighter in his chest ease for a bit until–

Woosh. A soft, balled-up something knocks against the back of his head. Kirishima startles and almost drops the manga, a vaguely alarmed noise stopped short by the sight of Bakugou in sweats and a well-worn, black shirt. His hair is wet. Wild as ever. At Kirishima’s feet: A similar outfit including a towel.

“Bathroom’s that way. Leave your clothes out by the door, I got special detergent for the nitro. Shampoo and shit’s in the shower, there’s a toothbrush for you by the sink. Use it.”

Kirishima opens his mouth.

Bakugou sighs. “It’s just a fucking toothbrush, Kiri. Wreck it for all I care.”

Kirishima closes his mouth. He nods. His phone is quickly dug out of his pocket and set aside, then he slips out to shower.

A good fifteen minutes later, he opens the door to let out a gust of steam and sees his clothes are gone. The hallway is empty, half-lit by the light coming from downstairs. The Bakugous have been as nonchalant about their spontaneous guest as Bakugou himself; even so, Kirishima tries not to linger or make too much noise as he sneaks back to Bakugou’s room.

“Baku. I’m back.”

Bakugou gives him a grunt of acknowledgement from where he’s fitting some sheets over the couch, folded out to provide a decently sized bed. There’s a pillow and a pile of blankets next to him, wrapped in fresh linen as well. It’s unlikely he’s stopped doing stuff since Kirishima left and if he is about ready to crash in five to ten minutes, he can’t imagine how Bakugou is doing right now.

Y’know, the guy who just survived being kidnapped by Japan’s newest and most notorious villain menace. No amount of pretense can make that simple fact undone.

Kirishima pads over to help, the offer to take over already on his lips but– Too late. The last corner is already being tucked in and laid flat with grim-faced efficiency. Left with nothing else to do, Kirishima sits down on the very edge, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the hem of his borrowed shirt. There’s some sort of band logo on it, an English word written in that typical death-metal-font that looks like someone dumped a bunch of white sticks in a pile and called it a day.

It’s soft. A little loose and frayed around the edges.

“Hey, Baku?”

Taking the blankets, Bakugou dumps them in Kirishima’s lap. “Mh?” He makes to step away and Kirishima doesn’t think, just reaches out and catches the back of his shirt.

“Dude, seriously. Just… sit down for a minute. Please?”

And Bakugou… listens. He stops, he frowns at Kirishima for a moment like he’s trying to figure out what his deal is, he sighs like he’s been presented with the world’s most aggravating puzzle – and then he tells Kirishima to scooch. “What? I’m not gonna sit on the fucking floor”, he says.

Kirishima can’t keep the relief off his face as he gladly makes room on the couch, leaning against its arm and tucking his legs in. Once Bakugou has settled, cross-legged with an elbow propped on the backrest, Kirishima throws the blanket over both of ‘em. Might as well get comfortable while they still can.

“Okay.” He steels himself with a long, slow breath. “I know you hate this kinda thing and we’re both tired and… stuff. Still, though: Are you okay?”

Bakugou gives him a look, which– Okay, fair. It’s a dumb question with an obvious answer. Kirishima doesn’t back down, though, humming to buy himself some time to rephrase.

“Like… It’s fine if you’re not. Okay, I mean. And if you’d rather go the fuck to bed and not think about this for a while that’s fine, too. But that was pretty rough and you’ve been, um, quiet. And stuff. So, I’m kinda worried. Y’know?”

Kirishima pauses. A bit lower, he mumbles: “And I missed you. So yeah.”

At some point, he dropped his gaze to his hands, limp and useless in his lap. Kirishima swore not to be a coward anymore but it’s hard, to speak and ask about things in full awareness he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

All he wants is for Bakugou to be okay. That’s all that matters, at the end of a day like this.

“I’m not”, Bakugou says, tentatively. Like he’s making up his mind as he goes. “I’m not gonna waste your time with ‘I’m fine’. I’m not. This shit’s fucked up.” And again he sighs, sounding so fucking tired Kirishima’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days; my shoulders are killing me from using my quirk and sitting chained to that stupid chair and whatever the fuck else. The League scouted me specifically because they thought I’d make a good villain and fuck them for that. Fuck them. But it’s just… It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Whatever Kirishima expected, it’s not that. He looks up and into Bakugou’s eyes and–

He can’t mean that, can he? Kirishima searches his face for evidence to the contrary, traces the tension around Bakugou’s mouth and the exhaustion smudged under his eyes and the line between his brows, growing deeper under Kirishima’s scrutiny. It all reads defeat. It hurts.

They won, right? A childish voice within Kirishima can’t help but cling to that even as he looks back down. They won, and things are supposed to get better when you win.

“People got hurt. People died, Kiri. Heroes, too.” Bakugou takes a shaky breath, a hand going to his hair and rubbing it roughly. “Fucking… Best Jeanist was there and nobody at the precinct wanted to tell me if he’s alive or dead or what. All of Kamino Ward is fucking gone and All Might–”

Bakugou’s voice cracks right down the middle and it hurts. Like there’s a beast tearing through Kirishima’s chest to rip out his heart and throw it to the floor, stubbornly beating as it bleeds out.

Kirishima wants to say something. Anything. All he can hear is Bakugou’s breathing but it’s all wrong, off-rhythm and thread-bare and upset, and any doubt what that means is erased as Bakugou’s hand clenches on the sheets and he sniffs, wet on the exhale.

“Baku–”

“Don’t. Kiri, don’t–”

He’s always been like that, ordering him around and demanding things when politeness dictates to ask for them instead. His tone is as close to pleading as Kirishima’s ever heard from Bakugou, though, and it twists him up inside to the point he feels distantly nauseous.

“Don’t look.” Bakugou isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not now, not ever. “Okay? Don’t f-fucking– Don’t look at me right now.”

“Okay”, Kirishima says. “I won’t.” His own voice is a mess as well, trembling all over the place. “I won’t, Nitro. I won’t.”

You’re safe, is what he wants to tell him. It’s okay, you’re safe now. That’s not what Bakugou is asking of him. Kirishima can’t stop himself from crying because it’s always been hard not to when the people he loves are doing it, but… He tries. For Bakugou, he’ll always try.

Through eyes heavily clouded by tears, he sees Bakugou’s hand tighten, knuckles going white and bloodless. Painfully tense, and Kirishima can’t stand the sight of that, either.

He shuffles a little closer to place his hand over that fist, careful to only touch the back of Bakugou’s hand. Kirishima whispers, “I’m here”, and Bakugou audibly swallows. He lets him slip his fingers in-between his own.

Holding on, just as he did in the car and when they met in mid-air, that desperate instance that decided whether he would make it out alive or not.

Bakugou holds on even as he breaks for good and his shoulders shake with his sobs. As he continues to breathe in gulps of air that sound strangled and desperate, through tears that leave a pattern of uneven dots on the blanket. By morning they will be gone without a trace: The sun will come up, the world will continue to travel around it, and time will reveal the road they walk on as they walk it, step by step by step.

Just because it’s meant to pass doesn’t make this moment any less real. Any less important. Kirishima sits there and listens to his best friend cry. He remembers days spent without him and the mad dash to save him. He thinks of dumb questions and obvious answers.

It’s hard to tell if this is one of them, so he gathers all his courage and asks: “Katsuki. Can I hug you?”

Just like last time, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He laughs, a watery, humorless thing – and he pulls at Kirishima’s shirt to crush him to his chest. His arms wind around Kirishima’s neck, Bakugou’s face pressing against his hair where Kirishima won’t be able to see him.

It’s fine. Kirishima’s great at hugs; he can totally work with that. Clenching his eyes shut, he adjusts his grip around Bakugou’s waist so he can rub his back, following the bumps of his spine. Up and down, over and over. Bakugou goes boneless in their embrace, not about to let go anytime soon and neither will Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima tucks his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes. Safe. He doesn’t fight the sharp-toothed smile on his lips. Bakugou mumbles, “Fucking sap”, nearly drowned out by their collective sniffling.

It sounds a whole lot like thank you. Kirishima’s smile only grows.

>>Chapter 5

[ryncorrect]

university!au: day6 sungjin

i’ve abandoned this au for so long istg my life is a mess yall please forgive but anyway im back with my bullshit and ready to spread my cringe-worthy stuff to the world again

name: park sungjin

major: practical music and arts

other activities: leader, guitarist, and vocalist of university band, president of music club, member of cooking club

park sungjin is the embodiment of leadership

i mean he’s the band leader, the club president, also the president of his class since year one, like he’s so trustworthy and responsible, literally nothing can go wrong under his sight

and even when things do go wrong (life is a bitch) he’ll still make sure everyone is fine and having the time of their lives pun intended

anyone who meets sungjin for the first time will probs say he has this tough man aura, cold,,, tsundere-ish idk

but as someone who have known each other for so long, you never understand when anyone says sungjin looks cold

you know damn well the moment sungjin opens his mouth he gonna throw dad jokes with his satoori dialect

dad jokes are fucking funny fight me

you once said sungjin should start his own comedy club

......he’s currently considering it

oh right he also talks about food all. the. time.

he joined cooking club for a reason okay

no, he can’t and doesn’t really cook he’s only there to taste food and people let him there because he’s nice and he knows how to appreciate the cooks

uh we love a man with manners

so, who is sungjin for you exactly?

he lives next door, one year older than you, was a leader even when you were little ayeee childhood friend cliche

can you imagine little sungjin leading his friends in game its so pure brb crying

you told him everything you couldn’t tell ur parents because they were busy, you asked for his advises, he made sure you were safe and happy

you still depend on him even after you two have grown up

you enrolled to the same university, took the same major with him, and even joined the clubs he’s a member of

this isn’t because you’re indecisive, it’s just that you spent so much of your childhood with sungjin that you two became similar to each other, up to your hobbies and interests and even palate lmao

that’s why he loves to eat with you because you two never argue about the menu

the only club you can’t join is the band, and that’s because jae rejected your application

reason: extremely close personal relationship with sungjin, therefore sungjin will take your side if we ever had an argument

you denied that; no, sungjin wont take anyone’s side based on feelings bc he’s a logical person and he always listens carefully to every side of the parties before he makes a decision..... but jae wont listen

brat

"you only rejected me because im a better guitarist”

“lalalalala cant hear you over my authority as the important band member”

“fuck you”

“i don’t accept offers”

anywayssss you did fail to join the band, but you’re friends with them, theyre literally so used to your company that sometimes they forgot youre not actually in the band

you and the guys teamed up for sungjin’s surprise birthday party

the surprise failed because dowoon accidentally added sungjin to the group chat

sungjin being nice and playing along anyway because he didnt want to disappoint you

and then its sungjin’s turn to ask the guys for help for your birthday party

failed again because dowoon AGAIN accidentally invited you, in person, to your own birthday party

dowoon what the heck?????

yeah its all cute and sweet but thats all of your relationship with sungjin, you treat him like a dependable brother and he treats you like his own little sister

thats what you tell to your friends too when they ask if you two are dating

they’re glad thats the case

because they have a crush on sungjin LMAOOOOO PLOT TWIST

they’re hoping they can get to sungjin through you yanno like asking you to send him snacks and letters or to tell him they say hi

you dont mind i mean you know sungjin is one admirable person ofc everyone likes him

sungjin never rejects nor accepts it hes just like “yay snacks!”

“god damn it sungjin just date any of them im tired of being a matchmaker”

“then dont?? literally no one asked you to”

little did you know that sungjin had the same problem

some of his classmates are interested in you but whenever they come to him he just says, “dont ask me i dont know anything and if i do i wont tell you”

this one sandeul guy has started asking you out and stuff

“ehhh youre so nice i’ll think about it!!”

you, immediately texting sungjin: ur friend sandeul ask me out what should i do

sungjin: do you like him tho

you: not really idk him yet

sungjin: just tell him your mom said no

you: damn nice

but this guy is so persistent and you gotta admit hes kinda cute and after a few tries you finally said yes to him

so you two went together and it was pretty fun

sungjin isnt too happy when he hears about it from sandeul

he asked you, “why didnt you tell me first?”

“well i dont think its a big deal. it was just a date anyway”

but you always told him everything

sungjin never speaks about it again

you go on another date with sandeul the week after

you tell sungjin later and he doesnt ask how it went

hes just “oh”

idk he’s kinda distant now, he rarely talks nor replies to your texts

he doesn't visit music club nor cooking club either so you don't see him often

have i told you im uncreative and all my aus are lame???

you think its probably because hes focusing for the finals, but even after it’s over sungjin doesnt really hang out with you or the band anymore like he only comes for practices and leaves right after

weirdly no one says anything about sungjin’s absence

but you cant stay quiet any longer and decide to ask dowoon whats wrong with sungjin

you shouldve known dowoon cant help much

“honestly i dont know either, maybe you should ask wonpil he’s sungjin’s roommate”

“but what if wonpil told sungjin”

“told sungjin what?”

“that i asked about him”

“asked him what?”

“...nevermind”

you asked younghyun

younghyun doesnt help either

“i dont know, just ask him yourself. i thought you were the closest to him??” why you so salty man

okay fine lets ask jae

“i’ll tell you for fifty bucks”

“dude im broke”

“then deal with it yourself”

you had no choice but to ask wonpil

“he’s just tired”

you know wonpil lied but this little shit refuses to tell anything

“please dont force me to answer i will cry really loudly and it’ll be embarrassing for the both of us”

why do you befriend them in the first place smh

oh youre right about wonpil telling sungjin that youre worried, and he does tell him to talk to you if he got something in mind

sungjins hesitant but in the end he only says, “no... its just that i didnt realize until recently that my little sister has grown up a lot”

“dear god wtf you sound like her grandma”

skip the boring part so uh a few more days passed awkwardly between you two and after your failed attempt at asking around you decide to confront sungjin in person

youre in the band practice room, the others are present, sungjin’s about to leave early as usual, and you find yourself jumping up your seat, “whats your problem with me?”

you know sungjin hates confrontation but you cant stand it anymore. you tried giving him time but if theres anything you seem to be more of a stranger to him

“i dont know what i did wrong and i wont know if you dont tell me, so let me know. i’ll listen and i’ll apologize if its my fault, but dont give me silent treatment like this. its so unlikely of you"

you can see sungjin clences his jaw as he replies calmly, "people change"

"you don't change, youre being childish. if you're mad you should talk about it. if you don't want me here you should tell me to go. if you don't like ME dating your friend you should tell me not to!!!"

drama much ryn

"youre your own person and you make your own choice, its your life and i cant keep telling you what to do or what not," and the end part kinda slips, "i don't hate you dating my friend or anyone, okay? im just not used yet to be a second person for you and im afraid youll get hurt"

"youre never?? a second person sungjin where does this idea even come from youre the only one for me i dont want anyone else???"

and suddenly there's a train of awkward coughs and you come back to your senses and you realize you're being watched

jae pretends to make a phone call, "mom pick me up im scared"

lame jae lame

dowoon mumbles, "can we,,, make an exit first before you two declare your undying love bc its privacy yanno"

you feel the heat spreading across your face as you open your mouth the same time as sungjin, both want to deny dowoon, but younghyun beats yall to it, "yeah you two are in love with each other we been know"

you and sungjin stares at each other, confused, "we don't???"

"oh honey,,, my dear,,, ive read enough sappy shit in writing club to see where this is going"

the conversation was cut there and neither of you bring it up again,

because the idea of you loving sungjin or sungjin loving you is so weird that you refuse to think about it, and so is for sungjin

but ever since that, sungjin has drastically come back to normal its almost hilarious, he spends a lot of time hanging out in the music club, practicing with the band, visiting the cooking club, making a joke here and there

sungjin is himself again with you, a caring dependable brother whom you come to whenever you need to talk or just hang out with and he always makes sure he has time for you

sap

you know hes always been like that but why does it feel different now??? the way he smiles or pulls your hand so youre walking on the inner side of the road,,, how he neatly places your spoon and chopsticks on a napkin when you two go out to eat together,,,, why

tender love baby chICKEN TENDER

mydayexol follow me

andddd so one day, someone asked you out. again.

wow ur so popular i cant Relate

you, texting sungjin: sandeuls friend jinyoung something invited me to a party next saturday should i come

sungjin, replying to you: hmm

you: ???

sungjin: i think its up to you

for some reason youre disappointed by his reply,,, but he’s right tho its your call if you wanna go then you go its not about what sungjin says

right?

right???

but suddenly you got another text: but if you ask for my opinion i would say don't go

you: actually i dont want to either lol so what should i say

sungjin: tell him you already have a date

you: nice

sungjin: with me

you: ayyeee

you: wait what

sungjin: i mean its just a suggestion

sungjin: which you can accept

sungin: or reject

for some reason you can imagine sungjin’s cheeky smile through his texts and it makes your inside tingles and you wanna giggle

so yea you thought it was a joke but he actually did take you out for a movie and dinner

it was really nice

so yanno the weird thing is that neither of you ask the other to be “official” but you just. are dating.

ur friends are mad like “bUT YOU SAID YOU TWO WERENT A THING”

“lol sry i changed my mind”

“fuck you”

“no thanks sungjin can do that... bUT DONT TELL SUNGJIN I SAID THAT hes gonna kill me”

“is he ur mom”

“basically yeah”

this sucks real bad but who cares

not me obviously

ill be back soon (or not) with dowoon’s one lets hope i can do better than this dnsjfsndfj lnjajnfdjs lmAO I LOVE YALL AND HAPPY NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE

[astheskycries]

Protected- Chapter Ten

When Maggie agreed to help her best friend finish preparing for an art exhibit, she wasn’t expecting to end up in the middle of a rough battle between Captain America and a shooter. She also didn’t expect to be considered a target because he saved her life and to be hunted by HYDRA agents for her involvement. Now her life is in the hands of a perfect soldier… and so is her heart.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine 

I sigh happily, half asleep and snuggling closer to the warmth surrounding me. I nudge my face a little closer to a warm chest, and something tightens slightly around me. I groan a little, blinking a couple of times, and I suck in a sharp breath as I register the white shirt in front of me. I glance up nervously, unsure what to do, and my breath stalls when I see Steve’s sleeping face, peaceful and relaxed as he subconsciously tugs me closer. I remember him telling me about the war, Peggy and Bucky, Erksine and Howard and their dangerous experiments. In turn I told him about my mother and Zoe, how we had almost nothing until my mother opened up the business Jonathan stole from her.

“It’s ten o’clock,”

I jump a little at the new voice, and I glance over as much as possible to see Natasha standing there calmly, arms crossed as she watches us. “Sorry?” I croak, trying to focus through the warmth around me.

“The time. It’s ten,” She tilts her head, watching Steve’s face for a moment before glancing back to me. “I’ve never seen him willing to sleep in.”

I bite my lip, thinking about it, and I suck in a breath as he pulls me impossibly closer. “Sorry,” I offer quietly, unsure how to answer.

She shakes her head. “Don’t be. He needs to sleep more anyway.”

“I’m fine,” He mutters, and I jump out of my skin. He slowly opens his eyes, instantly meeting mine, and he smiles gently. “Are you alright?” He asks, brushing my hair back from my face and making me realize how much of a mess it is.

I nod, reaching up to move a strand of his hair back without thinking, and he closes his eyes for a moment until I jerk my hair back. “Fine,” I answer, unable to meet his eyes despite them watching me.

Natasha clears her throat, and my cheeks flush even more. “I’ll handle training for today,” She says calmly, eyes on me. “I need to talk to you later.”

I nod once, dread seeping into my stomach, and she leaves without another word. I take a shaky breath, and Steve shifts closer, holding me closer and allowing his lips to brush my temple. “I should have moved you to the bed,” He whispers into my hair,”

I shake my head, moving automatically to hold the sides of his shirt. “I should have left so I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

“You aren’t bothering me,” He says, tilting my chin up. I stare at him for a long moment, losing myself in his baby blue eyes, and his eyes flicker to my lips for a brief moment as he starts to lean in...

“Captain Rogers, Boss wants to see you in his lab.” FRIDAY says.

Steve pauses before sighing, and we slowly sit up, his hand on my arm to make sure I don’t slip off, and I turn to him as he stretches, revealing a strip of skin on his abs. “I’ll come and get you in five minutes,” He says calmly, staring right into my eyes.

I nod once, trying to keep my thought in check, and he grins before turning and disappearing into his bedroom. I quickly turn and move to the hallway, making my way into the elevator and my room before shaking off all thoughts of the soldier and moving towards the shower.

…

“This should help us keep an eye on her,” Tony Stark says calmly, leading us to a table full of scrap metal. I remain silent, ignoring how the tight gray Under Armor shirt shows all of his muscles and the gray sweats indicating he may go to his gym afterwards. “If they come back for her, we’ll be able to go straight to her.”

“Not fast enough,” Steve says, arms crossed as he stares at the bracelet. “It could work, but I don’t want her out there when we can’t get to her fast enough.”

Tony nods before handing me the thin band, and I easily clip it around my wrist. “You could probably keep it after this whole mess is over; Capsicle can find you easily after that.”

I flush a little, but I manage to maintain eye contact. “Shut up,”

Steve grins, resting his hand on my lower back as we move towards the elevator. “Goodbye, Tony.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you won’t make your move.” Tony calls behind us.

The elevator doors shut, and I open my mouth to ask a question before I’m spun, pushed back against the wall with Steve holding my hips and his face close to mine. I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but his hips cover mine surprisingly gently. I freeze for a moment before letting my eyes close, raising my hands to run through his silky strands, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat, pushing a little closer. His fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, not moving any higher, and I grip his hair as I start to run out of air. He pulls back slowly, resting his forehead against mine as he keeps his eyes closed and breathes, and I can only follow his lead, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” He says quietly. I frown at him, and he sighs. “I’m supposed to be finding the shooter, not kissing you. You didn’t say you trusted me; you said you were starting to. And that is no way to treat a lady.”

I blush a little, biting my lip and trying to decide if he regrets it or not. “You don’t need to be sorry,” I say quietly.

He tilts my chin up, eyes searching mine, and he leans closer again as the doors open, revealing Natasha and a brown haired man.

“I told you,” Natasha deadpans.

Steve sighs, moving back and glancing at her with slight irritation. “How are they?” He asks, choosing to just ignore her.

“Good.  They asked about your status on the mission, but I told them it was none of their business,” She winks, stepping in beside me and looking oblivious to Steve’s contemplative expression. We all stand in an awkward silence until the door opens on my floor, and I sag in relief. I practically jump out, Steve right behind me, and we stop by the door before he turns to me.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” He says calmly, eyes on mine, and I notice how I can’t read him at all.

“Then why did you?” I ask quietly, meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t answer, shifting a little closer. “I have to finish the mission first,” He says quietly. “I won’t be able to focus on finding him.”

“Then don’t play with my emotions.” I say, reaching for the door handle. “Have a good day, Captain.”

I move inside, and he catches my arm, tugging me closer. “Don’t mistake my meaning, Maggie,” He says lowly, making me shiver slightly. “I don’t regret it.”

I keep my eyes on his. “Don’t you?”

“No,” He moves me closer to him. “I want to make sure he won’t come after you again.” I don’t answer, focusing on a spot on the doorframe beside him, and he catches my other arm, pulling me to face him completely. “Do you regret it?”

I bite my lip. “No.”

I move to my room, shut the door, and try to ignore the flash of something dangerous in Steve’s eyes.

Tags @ariallane @avengerscompound @jennylovelyheart @mewsiex @chrisevans-imagines @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @whostheblondegirl @mylittlefandomfanfictions @hannshasallthecheese @sian22redux @mycapt-ohcapt @jayded-dreams @4theluvofall @smoothdogsgirl @soulmates8 @katiew1973 @hista-girl @fay-1994 @pegasusdragontiger @domcaaa996 @dragonflare18 @mizzzpink  @iamwarrenspeace @pinkleopardss @stevergxrs @ilovethings-somuch @be-amaziing @patzammit @corie-the-writer @hellohollands @ajestice @brb-theres-cookies @liza-ouat @shut-it-tinman @chameerah @giftofdreams @geeksareunique @pheonix16 @my-emotional-self @yourstateofdreaming @esoltis280 @janeyboo @ladygrey03 @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars @marvelfan18buckybear @nerdgirljen @password123d @marvelouslyme96 @jadepc @starbuckycofee @sophster1881 @sleepylunarwolf @gazebozo-the-clown @snowflakesandkisses @shakyskit @gigiljoshler @promarvelfangirl​ @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @averyrogers83 @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @anaussiesblog @idontbelieveinperfect​ @disney-fire-fox​ @leanachansworld @palaiasaurus64​ @whyugottabsorude @captainrogerrsbeard @guera31​ @marvelismylifffe​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @mrs-captain-evans​ @kirstie-evans-writes​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @southerngracela @introvertedmouse If you would like on or off the tag list please let me know

Protected

@pitabread79​ @my-drowning-in-time​ @a-person-unlabled​ @fallenoutofrose​ @nanibon​

[honeyjaws]

im gonna scream u know. questionarie!!! lua and arthur!!! i efbsnmdakjsdn

@koalateamusings​ @lauriejuspeczyk​ r just out to get me

1. How did they first meet?

in St Denis at a bar lmao. he finds Bill and Lua and Vi after they saved Bill’s ass on a job that went awwwwwry. Bill’s fucken sloshed and like ‘they gotta come with us they would be useful aorthur’ and Arthur would be like ‘.... I GUESS’ and Lua n Vi are like cheers i’ll drink to that.

2. What did they think of each other at first? What was their first impression of the other?

Lua thought he was fucking handsome but quiet as alll hell a little awkward lol. also guarded; she’d wanna ask about the things he’s writing and drawing in his journal but wouldn’t ask because she feels it’d cross some boundary with him. Arthurrrrrrrr would draw her (like he does everyone its no big shut up!!!) and write something about how she’s new but he’d like to know her, he’s liked how he is around her and hopes that lasts. also she’s pretty sure sure.

3. Were they immediately interested / attracted, or did that come later?

UM like! yes and no! attraction was TOTAAALLLLY there but they both have,,, issues (because u fucking know Arthur is there like ‘well im fucking ugly’ and everyone else in the world is like ??? ??? but anyway) and so nothing actuallllly substantial happened until Arthur almost died in Guarma because of course it takes a big dramatic event for them to accept their,,,, feelings. crazy kids!!!

4. Why did they fall for each other?

just because~~~~

ok but like Arthur is the nicest and most genuine person Lua’s ever met and when she finally does ask about his journal she asks if he draws places he’d like to go one day because lord knooows she would love to be anywhere but the camp and he tells her he only draws what he knows and she says maybe it’s worth leaving to see more and when he tells her that if she left he’d go too she believes him and thinks maybe they could get away from all this and find something that fits and works for them in the world that’s changing and shifting away from the type of life they lead far faster than they can keep up with. maybe when arthur takes a moment to brush a feather or a flower or dried fucking grass out of lua’s hair and uses it as an opportunity to tuck her hair behind her ear and be close to her for a moment he doesn’t think he should have, a moment he’s feels he’s stealing from her, he knows that when she tells him he’s a good man she’s sincere and he wants so badly to believe it when it comes from her lips so in that moment he does.

did this answer the q? no! it’s just because!!!

5. Who flirted more before they started their relationship and how?

Lua lol. But that’s also kind of just how she is as a person. but with Arthur she’d actually mean it lol. He would make his self-deprecating comments about how he’s super ugly or a bad baaaad man she’d say he’s far from it.

6. Who made the first move/confessed first?

um it was a mutual thing u know. Arthur’s like basicalllllly dead and sun roasted on a horse returning from Guarma w a fresh case of TB and i have to pause a moment brb

ok right so with Lua seeing Arthur not dead like she thought is fucking overwhelmed by what she’s feeling and rushes to hug his crispy ass and when all their excitement and the Big Energy from that has passed Lua says “i love you, just. by the way. I’m glad you’re back” and Arthur responds by holding her face and telling her how when he was out there he kept thinking that one of the first things he needed to do when he got back was tell her that he loved her because he didn’t want to die without telling her. hmmm foreshadowing wrow.

7. When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?

one time when they were drunk and they didn’t talk about it after don’t worry about it mind your business, they did so why cant you???

8.  Which one is more easily made jealous?

I honestly cannnnot see Arthur being a jealous type because he’s got that self esteeeeem issue problem and would go for some self-deprecating shit before jealousy like “yeah there’s someone out there better than me, I don’t blame her”. so i guess the answer there is Lua?? but at the end of the day i dont see them caring too much because they’ve gotttta make up for lost time lol.

9. What do they fight about? Who’s the first to apologize?

haha after Arthur Realizes™ how he feels about Lua they go on a heist and she gets hurt but hides it until they’re back at camp and he gets so! mad! when he finds out he snaps at her like ‘what if it were worse what if she didnt make it back?’ and then Realizes™ part 2 that he was just scared of losing her and apologizes but doesn’t go into big big detail because this is stillll before anything actually significant has happened w them and they’re both like “oh my feelings couldn’t possibly be requited and therefore are not real.”

10. Did they have a first date? Where did they go?

not realllllly the closest thing would be pretending to be newlyweds on a heist n_~

11. What do their friends and family think? Do they approve of the relationship?

ALL PARTIES APPROVE LMAO. e v e r y o n e  knew how they felt about each other before they did and would try to get them to admit it especiallllly Vi and Rosa!!! they’d tease Lua like “ADMIT IT U IDIOT” and she’d be like “shut up Kieran is,,, weird and John smells like a horse!!!”

Most importantly tho Hosea thinks it’s good and that they’d be able to make a nice life together. lol.

12. Do they like to cuddle/hold hands? Do they prefer to do it privately rather than in public?

FUCKING YA FUCK. catch Arthur and Lua at the campfire w Arthur’s arm around her or just ~*cozied up*~ because time is fleeting bitch :~)

13. How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time (If they do)? Under what circumstances does it happen?

i just said time is fleeting!!! but also ok like! they’re drunk one night, shortly after Lua and Vi join the gang, and the night ends w just them at the campfire and some romantic (but like when youre just meeting someone and ur drunk and like sure romance lol) shit happens. lua’s like ‘just dance with me it’ll be fun! there’s no one around!’ and arthur, reluctant, is like ‘well alright’ but he’s smiling he’s content and then they have a really sloppy night together that afterwards neither of them acknowledge for a long long while. after theyre like fucken weird around each other for a bit. Lua obviously tells Vi and then Rosa because she caannnnot keep that secret for long but what she can do for a long is deny any feelings she has for Arthur lol. Things stop being weird when she tells herself it was just a one night thing and Arthur isn’t into her like that. Put it in a box amirite n_~

14. Who tops?

oh my god

15. Do they get married? Who proposes & how?

cruel cruel world must i go on

16. Do they have children? How many? What are their names?

cruel cruel world im gone

[shirtlesssammy]

9x02: Devil May Care

Then:

Ezekiel is totes on the up and up helping out the Brothers Winchester.

Now:

Dean fills Sam in on where Cas is (far away and human and without wings or money or ANYTHING and they’re not going to pick him up. GOD, do I love Supernatural post-season 11 SO MUCH.)

I mean, I guess the brothers have to worry about all the fallen angels out there (heaven forbid you include a FORMER ANGEL in on the mix!) They also have Crowley captured and as Dean so eloquently puts it, “He’s the junk in my truck.” (Lol, not until season 10, buddy!)

In an old, abandoned house, a demon performs a spell over a bathtub and out pops Abaddon!

Dean comes back to the bunker to a seriously freaked out Kevin. He’s been alone for too long. The bunker was acting weird when the brothers were gone. Dean fills him in on what’s happening. Dean is just a jerk here, wtf? I know he’s under some stress but let’s be nicer to the poor kid prophet, at least.

The brothers haul Crowley to the dungeon. They want demon names. He’s not going to cooperate. Torture isn’t going to work.

Kevin demands to know why Crowley is there. He killed his mom. Dean promises that if Crowley gives them what they want, they’ll let Kevin knife him in the end.

Abaddon starts to build her faction of demons. She finds Crowley’s level of leadership to be lacking. “The king is dead. Long live the queen.” And with that Abaddon is going to lead Hell.

Dean tells another hunter about the fallen angels and tells him to pass it on.

Meanwhile, Abaddon is fulfilling one of her first goals, getting better vessels for demons. Her first recruits possess some army dudes on a bus.

On the side of the road, a woman looks over the engine of her broken car. A man in a van pulls up and offers her a ride into town. She gladly accepts (BECAUSE THAT’S A SMART MOVE). Bonus on the gross predator man? He’s also a vampire. But the young woman is a hunter and dispatches him with ease. 

She’s captured by the army demons though. Wherps.

Dean and Sam arrive at the bus. They get a little pushback about investigating —it’s a military case, not a federal one. They have their supervisor, Kevin Solo, give the go ahead. Kevin does his own little investigation and the boys get their clearance.

Once inside the bus, they find the wounds on the dead bodies to be old. Demons. They also find surveillance video of Abaddon.

Abaddon has the other hunter in custody, and she wants answers about Sam and Dean. She gets Dean’s number and Kevin answers. She tells him that she has hunters in her clutches. She’s going to kill them if they don’t come for them.

Sam and Dean task Kevin on learning everything about Knights of Hell and they head to rescue the other hunters.

Crowley continues to sit in the dungeon, reflecting on his brush with being cured and human again. Kevin walks into the storage room by the dungeon. Crowley starts taunting him and Kevin opens the doors.

Sam and Dean find a ghost town. Quick! Somebody find Dean a long coat and a cowboy hat! 

They find the hunters trussed up in one of the abandoned shops. Tracy seems nice and would make a great Wayward Sister JUST SAYIN’. 

Crowley does what he does best and starts to twist Kevin around his finger. He implies heavily that Kevin’s mother isn’t actually dead. 

The Winchesters and their hunter buddies set up for Abaddon’s assault as the army-demons approach. The demons get tricked by the old phone-playing-a-recording trick, buying the hunters a little time to sneak out the back. We learn that Tracy is NOT looking to be BFFs with the Winchesters. Her parents were killed by demons throwing a party commemorating Sam’s release of Lucifer. Uh. Whoops? 

Crowley lays out his bargain: if Kevin frees him, he gets his mother back (she’s imprisoned, not dead). Kevin can’t help but listen to it all, including Crowley’s assertion that the Winchesters don’t care about Kevin beyond his usefulness. And honestly at this part of season 9 I gotta say that Crowley has a point.

The hunting parties split up. Dean defends his brother to Tracy. “You gotta know who the real monsters are in this world, kid.” Sam and Irv approach the demons. Irv confesses that he revealed the identities of a bunch of hunters to Abaddon one sad, drunk night. He’s looking to go out in a blaze of glory. His confession earns a shot through the heart from a demon sniper. 

Sam gets knocked down by demons and on the other side of the stakeout, Dean gets chucked to the ground by Abaddon. 

Tracy fires at the knight of Hell but Abaddon’s suited up with a bullet-proof vest to defend against devil’s trap bullets. Dean sends Tracy to his car for a resupply, then gets ready for a heart to heart with Abaddon, angel blade in hand. 

Sam continues to have a no good very bad day, up against the rest of the demons. (Don’t worry, he’s Sam Fucking Winchester, so we’re good.) Abaddon gets a good hold on Dean by the hair (BRB off to write some Abaddon/Dean fanfic!) and compliments him on being obedient AND “suicidally stupid.”

“Are we gonna fight or make out?” Dean asks, “‘Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here.”

Abaddon wants Crowley on a plate and she’ll kill Dean quick. OR she’ll peel off Dean’s tattoo and possess his ass. She taunts him with all the horrors she’ll inflict on others while possessing him - and making sure he’s aware of every last bit. 

Sam’s doing poorly. Apparently he forgot his middle name at home that morning (the trials are still affecting him, poor lamb). But not to fear! Ezekiel pushes his way forward and Sam’s eyes flash blue. It’s time to smite some demons. (LOL remember when angels were super powerful creatures that everyone feared and nobody could kill? Those were good times.)

Abaddon witnesses the angelic explosion, chucks Dean through a shop window, and disappears. 

Back at the diner, Ezekiel surveys his demon-killing work and defends his smiting to Dean. He was only protecting Sam. Dean looks like a spooked cat talking to him. 

Ezekiel insists that Sam is fine and won’t remember anything. Dean feels regrets about...everything. (It is his number one personality trait.) Maybe they should have closed Hell - all the demons running around the world are his fault because he wanted to save his brother instead. Ezekiel (Dean: “I’m gonna call you Zeke.”) insists that Dean did it out of love. Dean stops looking like a scared cat and starts blustering instead. “I'm not really with the whole, uh, love, and... love.” DEAN BEAN. (Praise to season 14!)

A little bit later, Dean packs up weapons in the diner while Sam wakes up. He tells Sam that he killed all the demons and Sam’s shocked. “You killed three demons? Alone?” LOL season nine! Tracy pulls up with Baby and DAMN GIRL you got to drive her. She checks on Sam’s welfare in a reasonably friendly manner. Dean, you won her over with the power of FRIENDSHIP! (Shut up, I have not seen too much My Little Pony.) 

The Winchesters arrive at the bunker with some booze and a bucket of chicken. They call for Kevin immediately and when he doesn’t answer they race down to the dungeon. They find a very pissed off and somewhat bloody Crowley. Crowley immediately offers up names of demons and gives them a deal - they scratch his back, he scratches theirs. But the first demon names are because playing with Kevin was so much fun for him. “Wind him up, watch him go.” Dean races upstairs to find Kevin walking out of the bunker. To convince Kevin to stay, Dean delivers such compelling arguments as:

Crowley lies

If Kevin’s mom is alive, then she might as well be dead

It’s dangerous outside the bunker

They need him

Oooof Dean. Not a winning argument, there. Kevin jumps on the last point. 

Dean insists that they need Kevin because he’s family and they’d die for him. He successfully talks Kevin into staying and meets up with Sam. Sam’s reflecting on Tracy’s dislike of him. Dean tells Sam that he’s done more good than bad. “Here’s to now,” Dean says. The bold future! 

“The fallen angels?” Sam asks. “Abaddon? Cas losing his halo, Crowley in our basement?”

“Crap. We're living in a freaking sitcom,” Dean says. UH I would watch the HELL out of that show. 

Sam decides that he’s feeling good and life is good. I’m so glad to see Sam in such a healthy place! Thank goodness both Winchesters are in a good mental state. LOL, kidding, Dean drinks his feelings as the episode fades to black. 

______________________________

Everything’s Fine and Nothing Quotes:

Can't wait to see Sam in stilettos and a leather bustier, really putting the S A M into S & M

Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers

What's the matter, hellhound got your tongue?

I'm Kevin freaking Solo

I torture all my friends. It’s how I show love

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[nsofties]

college!mark

undergrad!mark political science and english double major creative writing minor mark chose political science as his major because making new laws for equality and representation is incredibly important to him - he really wants to make a difference in the future for people was told that "if you can help change just one person's world, that's enough" but mark firmly wants to help many people - he wants to make many people happy and bring change to the world a lot of people in high school told him it was stupid of him - that politics can be very corrupt and not everyone will be kind or helpful or have the same intentions as him and he might get tricked by people but mark is an optimist and firmly believes in the good in people and so he gets to college and still decides to major in political science because even if that's people's perception of politics, he will make a change and do what he intends on doing, even if he has to run himself into the ground and that honestly worries everyone around him, because they know he will - mark is one of those people who earnestly puts his all into everything and will work until he's exhausted and having to survive off of energy drinks and smoothies and protein bars however, mark is always sure to have a way to relax, and so he is also double majoring in english and a double major may not sound like relaxing to literally anyone else, but mark finds so much enjoyment in being an english major and in all the assigned readings and myriad of papers and projects because something about english he finds so much fun - maybe it's the variety of subjects he studies and writes about for his different classes, or maybe it's the many different people he gets to meet jokingly his professors all call him the next global traveling poet because of his very clear distaste for poetry - it's not that mark doesn't like poetry, but he much so prefers to write short stories and may or may not be secretly working on a book on the side in his free time he loves fiction because he loves making up new worlds, creating realistic characters, creating dialogue... it's something about life that he can control. even when his life seems hectic, because it really is, he has his stories to relax to the hardest working student out there - on the student council, in the honors program, works at the writing center, has a part time job at homegoods, works for local political campaigns... honestly mark is just a very hard working young man and he's stretching himself a bit thin; his friends are all like "dude chill for maybe five seconds" and mark is like "maybe YOU chill" and lucas has to be like "no seriously mark you've had like six hours of sleep the past five days and i'm pretty sure your pants are on backwards you. need to chill." mark, a few minutes later: hey siri, how to chill out lucas: mark that's not the way to do it actually in high school, mark was much the same way - he was on the hockey team, was on debate team, was in model un, was student council president, tutored other students, was in the national honors society, had the job at homegoods, in all advanced courses, was in band... and back then lucas used to tell him that he has to relax, too. so, their bantering isn't new but lucas is still stressed by mark's overscheduling and overcommitting and lucas vividly remembers during prom how mark was so tired that he was slumped over at the dinner table, head narrowly missing falling into his plate of food as lucas pushed it out of the way which is? sort of how you met mark? you were a childhood friend of lucas's and you didn't know any of his friends - "what is a haechan?" - but sometimes lucas would make memes of his friends and send them to you, so you received a picture of mark that night with the caption of "slumped" and you were like lol and then lucas help him and you all ended up at the same university and you finally get to meet this mark character in person - "haechan is still in high school" "haechan is a person?" "uh yeah -" "lucas's stories about haechan made them sound like... idk a really excitable puppy?" "close enough" - and he meets up with you and lucas for lunch in town and you ask him what his schedule this semester is like and when he starts listing everything you're like "when do you breathe?" "i breathe all the time?" "... no, i - nevermind" you get along with mark well enough and you eventually admit to him that lucas makes memes of him when he catches him sleeping in the library and mark is like brb i gotta go fight lucas and ur like "his hand is as big as your head" "yeah i know he's like big foot but big hands" "i thought bigfoot has big hands too" "then why wouldn't his name be big hands and feet?" "discourse in the bigfoot community" despite you and lucas being close childhood friends, you and mark honestly are on a really similar wavelength so you get along really well and eventually lucas is like "wow might as well just not hang out with you guys anymore" and mark is like "yeah but it's mostly because you've called out of work sick the past ten shifts and i'm sure they're about to fire you" and kind of like mark you're overly involved on campus, and your schedules actually match quite nicely, so the two of you end up spending most of your meal times, no matter how short they are, together, and honestly it's relaxing a nice break from your daily schedules and the hectic, fast-paced life of a university student and eventually it gets to the point where lucas and mark are hanging out without you one day and lucas turns to mark and was like "so are you two dating?" and mark is panicking and like "i??? don't???? i don't think so??? are we??? did they say that i'm?????" lucas: cool okay hold on i'm telling them you want to go on a date this weekend ok cool you two are going to meet at the local cafe on saturday morning see you mark: duDE lucas: UR WELCOME mark: HOW ARE YOU TALKING IN TEXT SPEAK OUT LOUD lucas: LOL and when you two meet at the cafe on saturday morning, mark sits down with his coffee then immediately, after taking a single breath, says "i just wanted to let you know that this was lucas's idea but i do actually like you so i hope it's okay that this is a date and that you're not upset by that and if this makes you uncomfortable i'm totally cool with just being friends actually anything is cool it's all fine i just really like you oh my jeSUS I JUST SAID THAT OUTLOUD i'm sorry oh my gOD" and his panicking makes you panic and you two sort it out after a prolonged moment of silence where you're like "oh wait we like each other" and mark is like "what" and you're like "yeah" and lucas from across the street is like "WHAT'S UP IT'S YOUR BOY CUPID" (sicheng, from homegoods: something... something is wrong....) and it's cute because a lot of your dates together are just lil' study dates in a local cafe or the campus library or sometimes mark has even convinced you that the zumba class offered on campus would be a fun event and you agree but only because he wears a lil' sweatband and has the time of his life not cooped up studying mark is always very busy and you're honestly afraid that he doesn't know how to relax - that maybe he doesn't even know the meaning of relaxing? and so sometimes you're just like "hey how about we go to the arcade with lucas and sicheng and johnny and everyone else and just have fun for once? a little break won't hurt?" and those few times are when the polaroid cameras come out and you get little memories with everyone that you're sure you'll cherish far into the future mark and you really like the chocolate croissants from the cafe that you two had your first date at and on important events, like a huge exam or a huge event, you'll go to the cafe and get a chocolate croissant for each of you and honestly mark is working himself into the ground and you're busy yourself, but you're always sure to remind one another that taking a break and taking care of yourself is important, too overall you two prefer to stay inside when you hang out, and both of you are equally poor at videos games so sometimes you'll play mario kart online with jisung and everyone and jaemin will text him like "i didn't think you could find someone as bad as you at video games but here i stand corrected" (haechan: actually i think they're at least getting better mark hasn't improved for five years mark: HEY HAECHAN haechan: chenle here's my will chenle: ok) we love mark lee pls love and support him

[serendipityswift]

first impressions of songs on reputation

these will be my first impressions of songs, something that i can look back on to see if anything has changed and for me to rant about everything i’m thinking and feeling right now. 

...ready for it? - i think this was when i realised how split the album was going to be like. it was going to be a fake, exaggerated version of what the media and people have portrayed her to be, as well as the reality of a young women being in love and happy. it is an incredible opener, and sets the tone for the truths to come. 

|| favourite lyric: and he can be my jailor, burton to this taylor, every love i’ve known in comparison is a failure ||

end game - holy shit ed sheeran brb cry and die in a puddle of my tears bc sweeran is back. i honestly would not have liked this song as much if ed wasn’t on here, and future brings an edgier, a deeper layer to this song. i adore how ed referenced his relationship with cherry, and the entire song is a lyrical masterpiece. how far both of them have come since everything has changed brings tears to my eyes. 

|| favourite lyric: reputation precedes me, they told me i’m crazy. i don’t love the drama, it loves me ||

there are so many to be honest there is no way i can choose just one, so i’m just going to say the entirety of taylor and ed’s verse 

i did something bad - i love this song so much! it makes me feel somehow empowered in a way? the way taylor knows what she wants and deserves and is calling the guys that have wronged her out on their shit just makes me feel so happy and proud, as well as inspired to do the same. people deserve what they get in circumstances like this. and oh my god taylor swore, i never thought i’d be so impacted by someone swearing. 

|| favourite lyrics: they’re burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one ||

don’t blame me - i love the slower, sultrier, almost bored yet seductive tone of her voice at the beginning. i can already tell this is the type of the song i can listen to time and time again. it has everything, catchy chorus, smart lyrics and gorgeous vocals. and the way she said daisy has me screaming. and damn, she is in some kind of intoxicating love. 

|| favourite lyric: lord, save me, my drug is my baby i’ll be using for the rest of my life ||

delicate - this has to be one of my favourite songs on the album (but so is every other i suppose so i don’t know how much this statement says). this song perfectly embodies the uncertainties one goes through with beginning a relationship, particularly someone like taylor who has finally found someone uncaring of the bullshit written about her. the verses are confident and fun, typical of the infatuation you feel for someone. but the chorus is self-doubtful, vulnerable. taylor is questioning her actions and if she’s being too forward and if she’s making the right choice, even if she knows she likes him because love has broken on her before and she knows how fragile, delicate, it is. there can honestly be so much said about the multitude of layers in this song and really gives us an insight on what taylor feels when she meets someone new. 

|| favourite lyric: my reputation’s never been worse so you must like me for me ||

look what you made me do - when i first heard this song i was screaming and crying because i was so damn excited, and i knew this was the perfect statement for the rest of the world to see what she was going to do. i loved how it wasn’t plain anger or saltiness, but had real depth and incredible lyrics. she wasn’t going to stand for being humiliated and blamed for other people’s mistakes and decisions, and this song is only the beginning of all the tea she could spill. 

|| favourite lyrics: i don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me, i’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams ||

so it goes... - this song represents the beginning of a relationship, when you meet someone and something just clicks and you know it’s something special. i love how it’s so simple for some reason, taylor meets joe, they’re happy. they have some amazing sex. but it’s that simplicity that makes it honest, and she still needs to hide from the media. it’s sneaky kisses and the things that happens behind closed doors. 

|| favourite lyric: gold cage, hostage to my feelings ||

gorgeous - this is truly the purest, most innocent and just adorable song on the album. it reminds me of starlight, or enchanted, or just a pure song of meeting someone and realising you no longer know how to form coherent thoughts because all you can think is how much you want them. it’s a nice refresher for the more intense songs on the album, but gorgeous itself is just as emotionally complex if you read into it. and using blake and ryan’s son to say gorgeous is just genius, and that ding makes me smile every time. 

|| favourite lyrics: you make me so happy it turns back to sad, there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have ||

getaway car - i think from first listen, this is another of my favourite songs on the album. this is the most romantically heartbreaking song on the album. a getaway car can only end one way, a crash leaving both people gasping and dead. taylor ends the relationship because she knows it’s bound to end anyways. they were built to fall apart. the way she says dying honestly makes me cry. the desperation drips in her voice. even though she knows the relationship wouldn’t have lasted, ending it hurts all the same. 

|| favourite lyric: it hit you like a shot, gunshot to the heart || this song is like a story, there is no way to choose one lyric because each can’t exist without the other and each and every word is perfect

king of my heart - this song starts with taylor accepting how she’ll always be alone, thinking she will never find love again. but then he shows up and suddenly the “love” she had known before isn’t even comparable to joe. she trusts him with everything, gives him her heart, body and soul. this song is a pure, beautiful, realisation of love. she finally finds something worth more than all the luxuries in life, someone that means more than anything money could ever buy. 

|| favourite lyric: your love is a secret i’ve been hoping, dreaming, dying to keep ||

dancing with our hands tied - this song is having a beautiful relationship, dancing, being happy, but having that nagging thought at the back of your mind that it won’t work out. it’s holding her back, she’s dancing but her hands are tied, whether because of her own insecurities or outside influences. i love how relatable this is, sometimes we’re half in, half out of a relationship we should really just be fully committed in because they make us happy, but something is always holding us back. 

|| favourite lyrics: i’d kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down, i’d hold you as the water rushes in, if i could dance with you again ||

dress - i love how unapologetic she sings about sex. she’s 27 for gods sake, she should feel free to sing about whatever the hell she wants without people judging her. but despite being about sex, there’s love in this song, particularly the bridge and taylor captures that so perfectly. the sexual attraction is overwhelming, but so is the emotionally fulfillment the relationship brings. 

|| favourite lyric: all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting ||

this is why we can’t have nice things - i’m honestly so amazed at taylor’s ability to write the most cut-throat lyrics and sing them in the sweetest tone. the beginning of the song reminds of of a disney song, something sweet and fun, oh but honey you’re in for a ride. this entire song is sang in an almost joking manner, with even a tut in there, but the lyrics are all so revealing and true. i love it so much, taylor’s done with the lies and is here to write her own story. because guess what? they fucking asked for it when they fucked her over again and again. 

|| favourite lyric: i took an axe to a mended fence ||

call it what you want - this was probably my favourite of the four initial singles released. i absolutely loved how well it narrated her life at that point. everything had crumbled on her, but there was just one thing keeping her grounded and making the toughest of times bright again. taylor is so damn in love and you can hear the joy and gratefulness in her writing, voice and melody. 

|| favourite lyrics: and i know i make the same mistakes every time, bridges burn, i never learn, at least i did one thing right ||

new year’s day - this song is everything. it makes my heart flutter and my eyes water and just feel so warm and comforted inside. the piano is soft, complimenting her beautiful voice perfectly, allowing the emotions of the lyrics and her voice to just shine in the most wonderful way possible. how personal the song is makes it intimate, she’s singing for us and herself, no one else. it’s the perfect closing track. despite everything terrible that has happened to her, all the anger and vengeance, all that is left at the end is her happiness and love she feels for this incredible man. i’m so happy for her, and i want only the best for her and this love because this is the type of love that should thrive and blossom into the far future. 

|| favourite lyric: hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, and i will hold on to you ||

wow this has been a journey. it’s now past 3am and i’m not sure if any of my sentences make sense, i just wanted to get this down while it’s still fresh on my mind. i guess all there is to it is how proud i am of taylor, this album and everything she has been through and achieved because her strength is presented in every word she wrote and sang. each song is a masterpiece, and each sentence is a piece of this puzzle. it was important to pick one favourite lyric per song so i just chose the one that stood out the most while i was writing it, ask me again tomorrow and it would have probably changed. 

@taylorswift​, this album means so much to us as i’m sure it does to you. thank you for trusting us with this, it means the world, xoxo

[astheskycries]

Protected- Chapter Nine

When Maggie agreed to help her best friend finish preparing for an art exhibit, she wasn’t expecting to end up in the middle of a rough battle between Captain America and a shooter. She also didn’t expect to be considered a target because he saved her life and to be hunted by HYDRA agents for her involvement. Now her life is in the hands of a perfect soldier… and so is her heart.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight 

“How long have you been working on that?”

Steve stops working on the bag, turning to face me with a smile. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I asked first.”

He moves, unwrapping his hands as he approaches me. “A few hours.”

I glance at the clock. “What time did you get up?”

He glances where I’m looking. “Six,”

“Three hours,” I shake my head. “I’ve only been here a few minutes. I heard you go in, but I thought you’d want some space.”

He smiles a little, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You wouldn’t have bothered me,” He says quietly. Our eyes meet, making my breath catch, and after a long moment he straightens. “We’re still locating him. So far he’s managed to remain under the radar, even after the attack, but we’re doing what we can to find him.”

I nod, lost in thought, and he hesitates before tilting my chin up. “I need to talk to you,” He says quietly.

My stomach knots. “Did I do something?”

He’s silent for a long moment. “Not exactly.”

I open my mouth to speak, but someone clears their throat, and we both turn out heads to see Natasha watch us carefully.

“Shower before you say anything,” She says simply, moving towards the mat.

“Romanoff-” Steve starts, but he sighs and turns back to me. “Quit smiling,” He mutters, but I can tell he isn’t serious. “I’m going to get a shower. I’ll meet you in your room.”

I nod, moving towards the door, and then I hear, “Maggie?”

I stop, turning to meet Natasha’s eyes.

“Be careful,” She says calmly, but I can see the warning in her eyes. “Withholding information won’t get you out any faster.”

I swallow calmly, my gaze unwavering. “Thank you,” I say quietly, and I see Steve glare at her as I disappear into my cell. I take a moment to breath before sitting on my bed and losing myself in my thoughts. She knows. I only kept things from them because I didn’t want to admit how stupid I am in front of him. Like it or not, Steve has become a friend, and I don’t want Jonathan to ruin that as well.

In only a couple of minutes there’s a gentle knock at the door, and I jump, moving towards the door and tugging it open to see Steve smiling softly at me.

“Would you like to eat with me?” He asks quietly.

I bite my lip, thinking about Natasha’s words. “I don’t know if-”

“Maggie,” He cuts in gently.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

…

“Natasha was telling the truth,” I say quietly, picking at the dish I taught Steve how to make. “I did withhold information.”

“I know,” He says calmly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

I pause, staring at him. “You knew?”

He sets the napkin in his lap slowly, carefully keeping his eyes on his glass of water. “I’m obligated to search for whoever you mention. I know who Jonathan is.”

I tilt my head. “How much?”

“He bought out your mother’s company and was close to you,” He says calmly, meeting my eyes as he takes a drink. “Your mother died not long afterwards.”

I shake my head. “He was my fiancé. He used me to buy my mother’s company, and she died because I couldn’t afford the medicine.”

Steve stills, carefully setting the glass down. “You broke off the engagement?” He asks carefully, as if he hadn’t heard the other part of the sentence.

“He told me. I broke it off with him before he could.”

Steve pauses, cautiously reaching across his table and squeezing my hand. “I’m sorry,” He says quietly.

I try to take a steady breath, but his warm hand on mine isn’t helping me much. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Something seems to connect, and I see recognition flicker in his eyes. “That’s why you didn’t trust me,” He says quietly.

I glance down. “I thought you were like him,” I whisper.

This thumb sweeps over my knuckles, and I shiver against my will. “And now?”

I meet his eyes, and neither of us say anything for a long moment. “I’m starting to,” I say quietly.

He smiles, taking his hand back, and I almost miss the warmth before he rises and offers me his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I ask, only offering a slight resistance as he catches my hand and leads me to the couch and sets me down. I open my mouth to ask again, but he disappears into one of the rooms. I sigh a little before leaning back, and he quickly appears again, a sketchbook in hand.

He sits next to me and offers it, looking a little embarrassed. I take it hesitantly and open it to instantly see a beautiful sketch of a woman.

“My mother,” He says quietly. I glance at him, shocked he would show me this, and I skip a couple of pages to see a picture of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, smiling in a war uniform. “That’s my best friend. Bucky. We thought he died, but HYDRA only froze him.”

I stare at his face. “The Winter Soldier. I saw something on the news about it.”

He nods once. “We’re still looking for him.”

I reach over and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

“You’ll find him,” I say quietly. He offers a small smile, and I flip the page to see another sketch of a woman with dark hair and eyes.

Steve puts his face beside mine. “That’s-”

“Peggy Carter,” I say quietly. He tilts his head curiously, and I add, “I helped Zoe set up a Captain America exhibit about a month ago.”

Recognition flickers in his eyes. “Your friend.” He says knowingly, and I nod once. “She works in a museum.”

“Yes, and she loves it. She’s always asking me to help her,” I smile a little sadly. “She helped me after my mom died.”

“What about your father?”

I shake my head. “He died a long time ago.” He keeps staring steadily at me, and I give in. “He died in a car accident. I don’t remember him.”

Steve sags at that sadly, but he only moves a little closer and keeps his hand over mine. “Tell me about it.”

“About what?” He asks, looking at me with a small frown.

“Growing up. Joining the army. Everything.” He stares at me, completely blank. “I’m seeing how much is true.”

He blinks and clears his throat, watching me close his book carefully and set it on the end table. “I grew up being extremely sick and weak…”

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