#everytime I think it can’t possibly hit me harder it does

[mothy-graves]

finished episodes 22-28 of Malevolent today (which I think concludes season 3? Im not confident in that tho) and when I tell you I was and never am prepared for how much this podcast is actually going to hurt me

I thought episode 20 was bad. then so much throughout episodes 21-28 just gutted me so much more and I wasn’t READY

Not sure how far Ill get tomorrow but boy oh boy am I terrified!

Im also never prepared for whatever horrific noises/things Im gonna be faced with each episode but those are less important

[airisu7425]

How do you survive the loss of your beloved furry companion who was with you from the minute he was born until you had to make the toughest decision of your life - letting him go at almost being 20...? I still have 2 adorable feline girls but Frodo, he was THE cat for me. Actually, he chose me to pick him from the litter of two brothers, both black, climbing on me first everytime I went to play with them. He moved in with me (until then he was at my parents’ house) alongside Fiona, the ragdoll kitten to a rented place. Being the same age - they quickly became best friends for life. We moved together twice until I bought my current apartment - turning it into our forever home. He always loved guests, being elegant but approachable. He thaught me how fetch a ball (or rather that he can fetch a ball in case I was kind enough to actually throw it), was my natural bug killer (no flies or spiders survived meeting him), loved to drink from the tap and he always, always had to be close to me, touching me: be it in bed, at my PC, on the sofa, in the kitchen. So tonight my fingers can move free and fast on my keyboard without him lying across my forearms - but I wish my hands and arms were numb and not my heart.

I hope he was happy with me - he did not get to hunt outside but he always had food, warmth and a two-legged servant who did everything she could to make his life as comfortable as possible. He survived a severe bowel blockage operation, had a tooth or two removed but other than that, he was a healthy boy, being able to jump up to the upper edge of the door (FrodOOR).

I can’t stop crying and at the moment I think I never be able to. He took a piece of my heart with him and left a Frodo shaped hole in it.

Fiona is doing her best to comfort me in her own ways - demanding attention, wanting to climb to my lap, she even took the place between my forearms, HIS place.

The past week was rough, he suddenly became weak, eating less and less and getting unable to jump up next to me or to surfaces he could before. And I just realized, hearing Fiona purring, that he has not purred for a while...

I took Tiffany in in October because I wanted to have a continuation when the inevitable happens, but for now, it does not help.

I just miss the special connection Frodo and I shared that cannot be replicated with anyone else. I think that is what hits hardest, that it’s over - for good. I try to think that he is at a safe place now where nothing hurts anymore, probably my dad is spoiling him rotten, plays with Tádé again and he will be there when it will be my turn to go to the other side. Or he is still with me - but in a different dimension where he can see me but I can’t see him.

All I left is almost 20-years of photos I don’t have the heart to go through now. But that will be my next project: getting all his photos in a folder, picking my favorites and print them out. My lovely friends who are my catsitters whenever I travel came to say good-bye to him yesterday and took a little album with them, starting to fill it up with photos they had with him... I just need to fill the rest up.

A friend just said that we are elves to our pets - we just have a longer lifespan, giving us the joy and wonder of being able to be there with them their whole life and the price of this wonder is that we outlive them, leaving us with the loss and mourn. This elf comparison hits harder since his name was Frodo...

For now I just put 2 photos here - last night vs tonight.

[frankiekatt]

Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!

Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.

Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️

This was fun to write lmao

Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers

Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.

He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.

But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!

Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.

He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.

Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!

While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.

Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.

After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.

Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.

You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.

Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.

During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.

You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.

This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”

Bo Sinclair:

:|

You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy

Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)

Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.

Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.

Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.

You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.

He favored these moments the most.

Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.

He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.

Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.

As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.

It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”

And he would oblige.

He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.

The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.

“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”

He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.

After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.

When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.

Until-

“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”

“.....”

“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”

:////

Lester Sinclair:

!!!!!

You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!

Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.

Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.

And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-

Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.

You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.

Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.

“You look so cute,” he giggles.

“No, YOU look so cute!”

“W-well!!! I love you!!”

“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”

And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.

Billy Lenz (1974):

The perfect couple.

Literally.

The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.

Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.

He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.

Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.

“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”

“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”

Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.

Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.

You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.

It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.

Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’

He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!

Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.

Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.

Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.

“I love you so much Billy.”

Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.

“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”

Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Stu Macher:

Match made in Heaven!

Stu loves to joke around.

He hardly ever takes anything seriously.

He annoys everyone.

And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.

The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.

But you know what that means!

Detention dates <3

As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.

He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.

When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.

He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,

But you?

He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.

“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”

That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”

The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.

He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.

“Hey babe! I just missed you!”

You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.

Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.

You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Michael Myers:

Girl

Michael does not appreciate your antics.

Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.

He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.

He does not think you’re funny :(

He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.

He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.

You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.

He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Hello I hope your doing well! I have a headcanon idea how would the brothers and previously undatebles react to a masseuse/masseur (people who give out professional massages)

Let's try this shall we~

Edit: I was informed by someone who is actually familiar with this field that the term Masseuse and Masseur can be seen as insulting in the profession, thank you for informing me again!

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The Boys and a Massage Professional/Therapist MC

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Warning: uncensored swearing, a lot of it asfkfkajshfkslajd

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Lucifer

Tense shoulders that could cut steel, harder than a fucking nokia phone from centuries to eons of stress, if I was a professional at massages I think I would be itching to grab onto those muscles of his like dough.

He will probably feel chills down his spine whenever you are around.

Won't take much convincing if the time is right to ask him to please let you release the pressure on him because dear fucking lord I wouldn't be able to just stand and watch either.

Good fucking luck in the process, when I say this man is stiff this man is STIFF.

He will be feeling so much better by the end of it there's a chance he will be slightly dazed.

Also it improved his mood which led to less harsh punishments, which now has led to more demands from others than from Lucifer himself for you to massage him.

I think you should start asking for payment at this point-

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Mammon

And talking about payment, you will definetelly need to ask it from this one because after the first time you gave it to him for free out of your own good will he started to come back for it all. the. time.

Okay, he's cute and the sounds he makes are so 👌. But damn boy this is not exactly so easy so please give something back??????

Well, you just need to say the word and he will always have something in ready to give you. A date at a place you have been wanting to go for a good while now or something you have had you eyes on for a good time.

It's a very win win kind of deal.

Though at some point when you massaged his legs he felt so light he ran faster than he could control and almost ran into a wall, actually no, he did ran into a wall there's a crack in there ouch-

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Leviathan

In which the cause of the second oldest running was probably to scape the demands for his money back from the third oldest, though Levi was definetelly too stunned by the lighting speed to react right away.

He now makes sonic jokes when refering to Mammon.

But going back to massages, this fucking snake has such a bad posture I would be in back pain just from watching him sit.

And don't expect it to be easy to fix that because everytime you touch him he just tenses up further.

I swear it would be easier to just knock him out and acupuncture him.

You will succeed at some point if you don't give up, and BOY he also makes some 👌😩 sounds.

They're a lot more dorkish and high pitched and he will definetelly not be functional by the end of it.

He will start trying to fix his posture from now on to not make your work go to waste.

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Satan

A curious cat that would just straight up ask for a session (not for free of course he already has something to give you back in ready) after witnessing the shenanigans above.

Not so stiff as Lucifer but still fucking hard, which is to be expected since he has so much rage bottled up.

Chances are he's turning into his demon form unconsciously.

It's a bit of an intimidating session not gonna lie, he is basically using it to relieve himself from part of his wrath so with every groan it feels like he's going to jump at you and rip you to shreds.

He won't of course, instead he will smile brightly by the end of the session and give you your reward for such a good job.

It's honestly worth it though you will probably be needing a massage yourself after-

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Asmodeus

And that's where pretty boy comes in! He doesn't have a professional tittle on him but he has centuries of experience so that's close right?

He will have all things ready, just say the word and he will give you the best payment for all your hard work ever: a chance to relax yourself.

And man he's good.

It's also not very tiring to massage him either, his smooth skin is addicting to touch, the atmosphere he will help set up will be perfect, and he also spills a lot of tea in between so that's a plus for entertainment.

Seriously whenever it becomes too much to be with the rest of the brothers just hit Asmo up and he's gotchu.

Private spa day comming right up.

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Beelzebub

He won't ask because it will completelly scape his mind.

He plays a lot of sports and does a lot of exercising so of course he has a lot of sore muscles.

And you can't tell me you wouldn't want to massage his belly, he's a glutton, it's literally asking for you to massage there.

Baby boy is always so gratefull, thanks to your aftercare on his legs, arms and torso, he has never felt lighter!

Which has led him to accidentally break some of the gym weights, win a sports game almost all on his own and make another restaurant suffer because he felt he could eat more than usual.

Although I would like to say you should proceed with the massages with caution, his smile is too precious to ever say no to.

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Belphegor

Easiest target ever, will probably sleep for 24 hours in one go right after.

And he won't wake up for shit.

Though once he wakes up after those 24 hours he will basically be wide awake for the next 24 hours, so honestly? This has turned out to be very useful in important ocasions.

Will often give out some whines in the middle of a session, possibly half asleep for the entire time.

I feel like he would feel quite ticklish in some places even though you wouldn't be purposelly trying to tickle him, probably.

And I know many of you love his laugh, so yeah that's a plus.

He will definetelly offer to massage you back, and yes he will be good at it, and no it's not because of experience, yes it's because he's too much of a genious and has basically learned through osmosis just from getting massages from you.

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Solomon

Let me tell ya, he's stiffer than you think.

Bad posture, centuries of responsabilities, strain from excessive use of magic and pacts and the weight of existence when you are both immortal and unable to die.

He could easily rival Lucifer and he won't even realize it.

Will definetelly agree to get a massage and will definetelly say "well I do feel a bit under the weather" and his muscles will definetelly feel a little bit more than just under the weather.

It's easier to chew on hard bread than massage Solomon.

He also offers to pay you back.

Do not agree to get a massage from him, I repeat, DO NOT.

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Simeon

If you didn't feel like touching that exposed waist of his then you're lying.

If you don't offer first, he will ask you for it at some point.

And man to have a literal angel right under you, letting out a few exhales of satisfaction and bliss with every move of your skilled hands and arms, sometimes a chuckle followed by a comment that could start a small conversation.

Smooth skin, perfectly shaped body, I don't think I would be able to get my hands off him either.

Massage his hands, from his palms to his fingertips, massage his shoulders, from his blades to his neck, thumbs pressing close to his spine.

He will gladly let you indulge yourself for as long as you wish.

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Diavolo

Another one who's stiffer than you think.

You could literally jump on his back and it would feel like pavement.

Oh and he's now definetelly addicted to massage.

Of course he will also be paying you back with whatever you wish (don't make a joke and say something like 100,000,000 grimm, he will take it seriously-).

Depending on the day he may actually fall asleep, which is very cute.

On another note tho, have you ever thought about sleeping on his back? Because I have-

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Barbatos

Good luck getting him to take off his clothes, even more good luck to catch him not being busy.

This man will gladly give out massages of his own (which could probably knock out a dragon because damn boy those hands are skilled) but will probably not be as easy to convince to get a massage.

It will take an extremelly tiring day to make him agree and it will be so worth it.

Why you ask? Because the look in his face will alway be so soft by the end of it. Pure gratefullness.

Since then he will start to actually seek you out from time to time, the little smile on his face almost looking excited.

[hyunverse]

BUNGA (FLOWER) | FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

gender neutral.

summary; you’re megumi’s dream person.

note; i wrote this bcs my birth name is actually a type of flower ugh the self indulgence also i like butterflies. also inspired by a song called bunga by masdo. i recommend listening to the song while reading. bunga means flower in malay!! also pls open the gif for better quality.

YOU REMIND MEGUMI OF A FLOWER. white orchids; they symbolize purity. and that’s exactly what you are to him.

fushiguro megumi remembers this one day when he and tsumiki had went to a flower garden together. he didn’t know why tsumiki suddenly felt like visiting a garden, but he followed anyway. he observed as his sister looked at the flowers around them, a smile never leaving her face and her eyes were practically sparkling. it felt nice to see his sister actually enjoy herself, especially after their parents got up and abandoned them, leaving tsumiki with all the house chores.

“look at all these flowers!”, tsumiki caressed the petals with her fingers, thumb gently gliding over the flowers, “they look so nice, don’t you think so megumi?”

megumi didn’t reply, he opted to stand beside his older sister. tsumiki explained the symbolisms of the flowers she knew of. the raven head looked stoic, as if he wasn’t listening to any of her words but the truth is, he was. he found the symbolism behind the white orchids particularly interesting. it suited the orchids’ physical appearance. white and innocence just made sense.

as the siblings chatted (though it technically was one sided on tsumiki’s part), a cat walked towards the duo. the ball of orange fur purred and nudged it’s head on tsumiki’s legs, immediately getting the teenage girl’s attention. she kneeled down, her previous smile growing wider.

petting the cat, she looked up at her younger brother, “aren’t cats so adorable?”.

“yeah,” megumi uttered. a lie. he wasn’t a big fan of cats, he found them annoying. dogs are better, that’s what he believed in but he didn’t have the heart to say that to his sister. not when she looks the happiest she had been in a while.

“and the weather’s really nice today!”, she added, eyes glancing up at the sky. the sun was glaring right into her eyes, so her pupils shrunk. she didn’t mind however, she had always loved sunny days. the sunlight shone right above their heads, and megumi didn’t like it. he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his back, causing his shirt to cling onto his skin. megumi much prefers when it’s cloudy, shades of grey in the sky, the perfect weather for staying at home and reading books.

even so, he just nodded, “mhm.”

shortly the sun started to set, spreading orange hues throughout the sky. flocks of birds returned to their nests, and so the fushiguro siblings made their way back to their abode. on their way tsumiki stole glances at her brother, letting out a dry chuckle everytime she notices the lack of expression on his face.

“you should smile more you know, megumi”, she ruffled his erratic hair, “you won’t get much friends if you keep on frowning like that”, she teased.

he grumbled, “i don’t care if i don’t have friends.”

megumi thought it was ridiculous. why would it matter, anyway? he’s fine being alone. people are bothersome; they’re too loud and they stress him out. especially the stupid punks in school who thinks they could do whatever they want. megumi simply shrugged and pushed his sister’s words out of his mind. scratch smiling and being likeable.

yet here he is, smiling at you. over no particular reason too.

currently, he’s walking along a beach with you. you; dressed up in a white sundress, a pair of sandals in your right hand. the sand burns under fushiguro’s feet but he couldn’t feel it over the fast thumping of his heart, he couldn’t feel the heat when his whole skin is tingling. he trolls behind you, walking over the footsteps you made. your sundress flows to the rhythm of your walk, flying slightly up when the wind blows your way, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. fushiguro looks away from your figure, his fair complexion tinted with blush.

you’re his best friend, he’s not supposed to look at you like that.

“it’s so nice here, megumi!”, you call out to him as you stand at the edge of the sea. waves crash, they trickle up to your toes. with a smile you hold up your hand for megumi to hold.

bashfully, megumi walks up to you and takes your hand in his. he’s reluctant, for he dislikes his hands. they’re cold and filled with callouses. so when you grip his hand as though you didn’t intend to let go, when your thumb rubs against his, he feels less insecure of his hands. the sensation of your hand in his is hot, it burns; however it feels nice.

megumi fushiguro hates warmth, but if it’s your warmth, he’d enjoy burning in heat.

the sand by the sea doesn’t feel hot on your feet. the waves get bigger and bigger; till they reach up to your ankles. you giggle because it tickled, the sound of your laughs reaching megumi’s ears. he turns to his side to see you crouching down, collecting the water in your hands.

that’s when megumi concluded, your whole existence screams purity.

a week later megumi meets you again. sometime at 11pm, by an oak tree—your usual meeting spot. the oak tree is large, it’s impossible to miss it. you stand under the oak tree, allowing dried leaves to fall onto your head, getting stuck in your hair. you know megumi would get all the leaves out of your hair. he does it everytime. he’ll pick out all the leaves out of your hair while lecturing you, though his words enter one ear then out from another. no matter how many times he says “i can’t do this all the time”, even he himself knows he would.

from afar megumi watches his best friend run around the flower field, chasing butterflies. your hair gets swept away by the wind as your hands stretch up to the sky, desperately trying to get a butterfly to land on your hand. you’re wearing a jumpsuit, the white color of the material truly brought out your skin tone. your complexion is glistening, and it makes megumi’s heart throb.

“they’re scared of you, y/n,” he finally says, putting both your hands down. the butterflies fly away from your sight, and you pout.

“but they’re so pretty,” you sigh, watching as the butterflies choose to fly anywhere but on your fingers. and then one lands on top of megumi’s shoulder.

your eyes widen, holding the sides of megumi’s figure to make him stay still. megumi could see sparks in your eyes when you admire the blue butterfly. soft is the expression you wear on your face. he likes it on you. that cute expression of yours makes megumi fall five times harder for you even when he knows he shouldn’t.

“you’re like a flower ‘gumi. it likes you.”

ridiculous, he thinks. you’re the flower. it’s obvious by the way your body moves under the moonlight, and how insanely beautiful you are.

fushiguro megumi doesn’t say anything in return, as always. he rarely does. if possible, he wants to avoid you from finding out just how in love he is with you.

after that day, you never show up under the oak tree, a few minutes distance from jujutsu high. he’ll wait for hours long only to be disappointed.

--at least not until his birthday comes, about a few months later. his face turns pale once he spotted you. you wait by the jujutsu high gate with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn’t ghost him for three months.

"glad to see you doing okay," the apple of your cheeks seem more prominent when you smile, megumi feels an urge to kiss them.

"i haven't seen you in so long," megumi mumbles, "happy to see you here today."

you grin and hold up your hand for him to take per usual, and didn’t mutter anymore words until the two of you reach a café in the outskirts of tokyo.

“nice café,” the raven comments , glancing at you. you’re wearing a puffy sleeved white blouse now—honestly, do you only own white clothes?

“found it on instagram”, you mutter, “i thought you’d like it. happy birthday, megumi.”

megumi smiles for the first time today. as a jazz song plays, he eats the birthday cake you purchased for him quietly. the cake tastes delicious (to be fair, anything you buy him is perfect) because it’s not too sweet. the fact that you remember his preference makes his smile grow a little wider.

you hum to the song and rest your head on his shoulder. it seems like the two of you are the only ones in the café—a much needed privacy. you’re usually touchy with him, and he prefers affection to be private. typically they make megumi blush, and he doesn’t want people to witness him all flustered.

“did you miss me, megumi?”, he replies to your question by nodding and placing his hand on top of yours.

serenity is this feeling, megumi thinks.

at the corner of the café stands an antique grandfather clock. it’s sounds are so loud, they resonate the whole environment. megumi suddenly becomes hyper aware of the sound, there’s a pounding in his head. the sound becomes louder and louder, to the point where megumi couldn’t feel your skin under his. he shuts his eyes close, an impossibly bright light glares his eyes.

“fushiguroooo!”, an annoying voice yells. itadori’s voice, megumi is certain.

the pounding in his head slows down. his sapphire eyes flutter open, and he realizes the light he saw was sunlight rays peeking through his blinds.

“seriously fushiguro, we’ve been calling you for an hour now. hurry up, we’re going out to eat in five. to celebrate your birthday”, megumi looks up to see nobara standing behind itadori. 

they’re both leaning against his door frame. itadori is dressed in a yellow hoodie, while nobara rocks a coat over a turtleneck. the female sorcerer holds her toy hammer tight in her grip, her eyes boring through megumi’s figure. by her posture, megumi guesses she was about to hit him with the squeaky hammer if only he didn’t wake up sooner.

fucking menaces, they could’ve left him to sleep for a little more. he hasn’t seen you in so long, he wanted to sleep in to spend time with you.

finally rubbing his eyes awake, the boy looks at the vase of orchids sitting on his nightstand. he sighs before standing up.

megumi will find you someday, he promises. if you’re a flower, he’ll gladly be the butterfly.

✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0 @sunaluvs @guardianangelswings @fairywriter-oracle @inu-makki @erinisbadger

tagging; @candleohappiness , @haru-senji <333

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Six

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

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

Part 6 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: physical assault; mentions of past sexual assault (brief); abusive parental relationship; canon violence; ANGST; mentions of attempted suicide; mentions of drugs, drug smuggling, and human trafficking; bullying and harassment; SMUT (unprotected sex; hair pulling; ass smack!; ALL THAT GOOD CONSENT; talking a lot during sex lol); 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Word Count: 21,400+

A/N: ya’ll my timeline is completely fucked (age wise)... like... anything remotely romantic happening between Steve x Female Reader happened AFTER Infinity War when the reader was already 19-20. I just realized that my years were off in a certain flashback......... so yes, everyone knew the reader while they were still in their teens but they’re literally 26-27 present day so don’t think too much of it lmao i can’t really fix it now lol

~

An Avengers Safehouse, 2023, 10:45 pm  

    Every door was closed and locked for the night. You had made sure of it. A distraction now would ultimately destroy any other chance you might get, and this chance was already overdue. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you jogged down the hallways to the common room you knew he was in. He had been catching up on his reading for the past two days now, a small pinch of solace during this hectic week. 

Your feet were heavy, invisible anchors shackled to your ankles and dragging you lower to the depths of that personal hell you had been burning in. Glancing over your shoulder, you measured the distance between you and your room, chest beginning to feel tight as your lungs forgot the taste of air. It was like you were walking to your own personal execution, flesh and bone ready to disconnect from your essence. But you weren’t walking toward anything dangerous - you were walking to him. To speak with him. To be with him. 

You knew you saw it when everyone returned from the heist. He wasn’t himself - he regretted not using the stones for himself, possibly - you truly didn’t know why. You enjoyed the reunions and getting to reconnect with everyone. Grasping and holding Wanda in your arms was outright magical, to touch one of your best friends after nearly accepting the possibility of never doing that again - you had a similar reaction when you collapsed into Peter’s arms with the weight of those five long years. 

And you knew Steve was grateful as well, he had to be, but his exclusion of you hurt. You had shrugged it off the first time - perhaps he was tired, wanted more private time to catch up with Sam and Bucky, to be with his friends as you were with yours. The second time he dismissed you, it was during a dinner. The seat beside you was empty, it wasn’t even that close to you, and he decided to skip dinner altogether. 

But the third time, the most wretched of times, had shown you that something was truly wrong. This wasn’t the Steve you had grown close to these five years. He was distant, cold, a completely changed person that only spoke when absolutely necessary. 

It was a nightmare, one of the worst ones you ever had, and Friday had alerted the only other room near yours - Steve’s. The knocks were loud, frantic in their purpose, and Friday unlocked the door. You were shaken awake, tugged into a chest that wasn’t as firm as the one you remembered, and soft whispers of ‘you’re okay, you’re alright’ drowned out the sounds of your panicked whimpers. You reached out to stroke the person’s face, eyes snapping open when you realized it wasn’t him, it wasn’t Steve. 

‘Bucky?’ you had whispered, hands still stroking his face as he held you. 

‘It’s me. You’re okay, you’re alright.’

‘Where’s Steve? Is he okay?’

Bucky immediately tensed, expression turning somber as he tried to give an acceptable explanation. 

‘He’s… he’s not coming, doll.’

‘What do you mean he’s not coming? He always comes, he-”

‘Doll, hey,’ he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. ‘He’s not coming.’

The broken question of ‘why?’ had tumbled from your lips until Bucky’s rocking had calmed you enough to fall back into a deep sleep. And the next morning, Steve announced he was moving from the safehouse and back to his apartment permanently. 

And it made no sense considering you two were on wonderful terms just a few weeks ago babysitting Morgan. It was like he flipped a switch and erased you from his memory. 

You deserve an explanation. You deserve to have your questions answered, to see the look in his eyes as he tried to explain himself, to witness his fumbling as you caught him off guard. You deserved to know.  

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The common area was illuminated by a soft, yellow light from the lamp in the corner of the room, the moonlight only shining over the kitchen. Steve sat on the lone couch near the soft light, book in his lap and already half-way read. 

No one really snuck up on him - no one had the chance to with his enhanced hearing - but you succeeded. The book nearly fell from his lap, a hitch in his breath alerting you that he really wasn’t expecting anyone. He set the book down on the nearby table and slowly stood up. “I’m not avoiding you.”

You will not cry right now. 

You scoffed, “So, leaving a room when I walk in is just a common occurrence now? What about avoiding me completely? You don’t say good morning, you don’t tell me hello, you don’t even sit near me anymore-”

“It’s late, and these briefings have really taken a toll on me, agent.” Steve sighed and avoided your eyes as he walked right past you and into the kitchen. 

He hadn’t actually done it, but that certainly was a slap in the face. The invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles were pulling harder, drowning you in your grief.

You mindlessly whipped your head at him, watching as he grabbed the milk carton and proceeded to do absolutely nothing with it. You clenched your teeth, “Agent?” 

He did not immediately correct himself. The room was now deathly silent, minus the quick breaths under your nose. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

Your forehead strained from the pained expression you held, tears brimmed and burning as they threatened to fall. You walked towards him and tried to keep a steady demeanor, anger drowning your veins the quickest it ever has. “What is it then? ‘Cause you’ve been calling me by my real name for the last five years! You’re my friend!”

Everytime your name slipped from his mouth it made you like him more. His presence was no longer uncomfortable or forced, but rather calming and needed. This friendship was built high and mighty these five years, walls seemingly strong. You worried there was true vulnerability in those foundations.

Speaking to Rhodey or Bruce just wasn’t the same as speaking to Steve. Helping him take out the trash, buying coffee for one another, asking the other what they wanted to watch on television. But now your name was absent from his voice, restrained and gutted from existence as if to purposely hurt your now healing mind. 

Steve ignored the desperate portion of your argument, “It’s time to focus on the new threats this world faces-”

“What are you talking about? Why are you shutting me out like I’m not important to you?”

His jaw tensed, eyes still distant. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m saying we need to focus on the fights we thought we left behind-”

“You mean my dad? Because I’m pretty fucking sure he’s looking to only kill me.”

“Don’t joke about that-”

You had no physical control now. The anger was at its boiling point, seeping through the corners of your eyelids and corners of your mouth. “Joke about what? Why are you not letting me in?”

Steve gripped the counter, head hanging low but voice powerful enough to shake through you. “Stop interrupting me!”

A solitary tear hit the floor beneath you, voice now wobbly and unsure of its chosen words. “What happened to you?”

Steve remained silent for only a moment, hands still gripping the expensive granite. “Nothing happened.”

He ran his right hand down his face to relieve some of the tense muscles. He continued to speak.

“Now that everyone’s back and the same threats are picking up where they left off, I’ve got bigger problems on my hands.”

You scoffed again, “Oh, so now Scott’s time heist has another negative consequence?”

In a matter of a millisecond, Steve turned suddenly and was now towering over you. Your back instantly straightened. “Don’t be smart with me. You know what this means.”

You just looked up at him, eyes slightly fogging up but the rest of your face still determined. You spoke low, searching his face for any indication that he would swing. No, he wouldn’t. Ever. “Spell it out for me then. I’m still seething from not hearing my first name yet.”

Steve ignored your quip, “Now that your father’s back, we need to finish what we started.”

You stared at him in disbelief, “You don’t think he’s actually going to pick up where he left off, right? Not now!”

“He already has. Fury notified me through a secure channel,” Steve declared, stepping away from you as his mind finally rewired. 

You instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, “No…”

“Business as usual.”

Your voice raised an octave, desperation now dousing your plea of ignorance, “No, you’re lying. You’re a goddamn liar!”

“Calm down, agent. This isn’t the time-”

It was your turn to crowd Steve, stepping toward him and pushing him backwards. Your mind told you to not touch him, that he never touched you, and that it was horribly wrong. But his blank face prompted another push, your body acting on its own will. 

“Agent? Agent! Steve, what the fuck is going on?”

His voice was deeper, “If you yell one more time-”

“You’ll what?” 

Neither of you spoke. In that moment, you wondered if anyone had heard this fight as you and Steve weren’t exactly being quiet. You knew your voice traveled down several hallways and his strong one practically shook the floors. So you pushed that thought to the back of your cramped brain, head held high and eyes boring into Steve’s.

“Now that you got your old friends back, I’m useless. Is that right?”

His eyes widened, “Where in the hell is that coming from?”

“I’m right, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore, I was a rebound all these years?”

Steve started shaking his head, eyes closed as he tried to calculate the best possible response. He could feel his lungs burn, almost like they did before the serum, and he realized he was throwing himself into a panic attack. It tickled its way up his throat, clenching the sides and dragging its nails across the sensitive surface.

You were still speaking.  

“You know, you’re still pissed that the first name I spit out to Fury when I went undercover was yours. You never wanted to help me with it.”

“Don’t start-”

You knew you shouldn’t have continued, this argument proved childish since he first called you by an old, nameless nickname. But it seemed he had no intention of apologizing or providing you with an explanation for his sudden absence.

“You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”

Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”

But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”

Steve grabbed the nearest object, the coffee maker Tony had bought for their six year formation anniversary, and flung it across the room. It shattered into the wall, leftover cold coffee staining the peach paint, the glass littered over the floor. “That’s enough!”

The sound of its impact made your stomach churn. You were frozen in place, almost certain that Steve would throw you next, and your legs were suddenly cold. “Who are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Steve choked out, tears forming in his eyes as well. His chest rapidly raised and lowered, his breathing becoming erratic. Even he wondered why no one had come to check up on you two.

For the sake of Steve’s sanity, you whispered your next reply. 

“You hate me that much-”

“Y/N-”

And you were suddenly overpowered by a sense of calm acceptance. “You hate me so much that you can’t even stand to look at me.”

“Please...”

“I’m finished, too. From now on… you’re my Captain. I’m just an agent. I’ll answer your call to help fight. That’s it.”

You had thought he would drop to his knees and apologize. This Steve wasn’t your Steve - not that Steve or any part of him was ever yours - but it was almost impossible to comprehend such a blank set of emotions from the same man who helped you with laundry, remembered the captions of your photo posts and teased you about them later, or casually sketched your outline in his sketchbook. He began to disregard your kindness, your presence, your voice the moment Wanda held Vision���s face as he whispered his goodbye, as she got her closure, as she had to say goodbye for the thousandth time. 

But nothing could prepare you for his quick acceptance of your offer.

“I think that’s for the best.”

You nodded slowly, arms falling to your sides. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - hell, you didn’t love the guy - but he was so much more than just a colleague now. You had literally saved the world together. He was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. Did you love him? 

“Just so you know, I wasn’t faking any of it.” 

Steve looked as if he was going to say something but closed his mouth. You swore you could see his bottom lip trembling, but he remained still. He stared anywhere but your face. 

You turned to leave, body ready to give away and tumble into the mound of pillows calling your name. But you held yourself up at the doorway, turning back to Steve and meeting his eyes - he was already watching you walk away. 

You swallowed hard, “And I’ll be the honest one here, tonight - you were the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in my head for five years.”

Present Day, 2025, 7:02am

     You awoke startled, your gasp a little raspy as it sounded off in the quiet room. Your internal clock was already stressing you out, letting you know that you seriously had to get up now, even before your alarm rang. 

Dread swam in the pit of your stomach, swirling the pound of breadsticks you had last night. Yesterday had been your last ‘in between’ day, the last day to truly map out your next steps before you actually had to execute them. You would see everyone today, tomorrow, and the next - the next the final, the endgame. 

You rolled over and glanced at Steve. His bed was empty, sheets folded and pillows fluffed, and the bathroom was open and empty. 

With a pinch of your eyebrows, you groaned as you flipped your legs over the side of your bed. You stilled, but there was no other sound. 

Steve really wasn’t here. 

For a second, you were angry. You couldn’t believe he literally left you alone, after basically defiling you and you himself, on a day that would for sure strike a major nerve in your crippling anxiety. It was low, like you were left to pick up your heels and proceed with the walk of shame down the hotel hallways.

But then the next second, you were relieved. You could take this moment to relive last night, to hatch out every single detail, to somehow make sense of just what the hell happened. It had been so fucking hot, so fucking overdue, and god, did you want to do it again. Steve’s absence allowed you to squeal in both delight and disbelief. 

You had fondled… had sex with?... humped?... your literal Captain. Sure, you had crossed a boundary in this ten-year friendship and rivalry, a boundary that was now completely exed out and erased really, but it wasn’t literal sex. Right?

It was certainly something if you had learned one thing from Sex Ed 101. Intimacy was intimacy. Yeah, you and Steve shared… intimacy. 

It took all your willpower to shrug off the rest of the blankets and start getting ready. There wasn’t much to do except hope that your guns didn’t jam or Seda didn’t ambush you. Quickly shooting off a text to Wanda, you waited for her much needed call. 

‘Hey, what’s up?’

You let out a long hum, face lifted toward the ceiling as you thought about how you would phrase last night’s events to her. “So, like, I’m gonna kill myself.”

‘Back up. Explain?’

“Ahhhhh, Wanda! I fucked up. We fucked up.”

Wanda’s voice sounded frantic, ‘Did the mission go wrong? Where’s Scott? Steve? Torres?’

You groaned, stomping your foot like the literal child you were. “Wanda, me and Steve did something last night.”

Wanda was silent for a few moments, her quick breaths evening out as she collected her thoughts. ‘Are you trying to tell me, that while trying to tell me you had sex with Steve last night, you made it sound like we would have had to all suit up to save your asses all the way across the country?’

Grateful she couldn’t see you blush, you responded as if you were trying to still keep the events a secret. “Well, when you put it like that!”

‘Did you and Steve actually…?’

“No, no! But we… touched and stuff.”

‘Is this high school? Spit it out.’

It was basic instinct to inspect the room again before you admitted it. “We sort of just, got each other off. Like, handjobs and such.”

Wanda let out a sound that resembled both a groan and a chuckle. ‘High school.’

You threw yourself back into bed, rolling around and throwing pillows all over the place. “It was so hot.”

‘You don’t need to give me the specifics.’

“Who else am I supposed to talk with? Bucky?”

Wanda choked on her laugh, ‘Okay, okay. I see your point.’

“What does this mean?” you asked both her and yourself. 

‘I’m gonna tell you something that you might not like to hear, okay?’

“Ugh, don’t scare me.”

Wanda chuckled before she continued, ‘This doesn’t surprise me.’

You practically strained your back from snapping up from bed so quickly. “What do you mean ‘you’re not surprised’?”

There was slight shuffling on the other line. ‘I owe Peter fifty dollars.’

You huffed loudly, “What do you mean by that, Wanda?”

Wanda sighed, ‘Look, we weren’t here during those five years. We weren’t here to see you two together. But Bruce told us how you two were during that time. Even when you were ignoring each other for months after, you didn’t hesitate to protect each other.’

You shook your head, as if she could see you. “He abandoned me for a good while.”

Wanda interrupted, ‘You saved him at the height of your fighting.’

You rolled your eyes, “He’s my Captain, of course I saved him.”

‘You didn’t have to.’

Your thoughts were flying at a hundred miles an hour, colliding with one another at top speeds. You opted to forgo that memory. It was shelved, to be revisited later. 

Changing the subject to a much less dramatic topic, the phone call lasted for another fifteen minutes before you seriously had to finish getting ready. 

The talk helped. But it didn’t answer any questions you had. The answers lay in the one place you really didn’t want to explore right now. Maybe after breakfast.

      Scott stumbled out of the elevator with very sleepy eyes, fingers still digging into their corners as he made his way to the hotel bar. Steve was seated in the farthest chair from the entrance just casually sipping orange juice. 

“What was so urgent that I had to wake up before my alarm?” Scott groaned as he slid into the seat beside him. 

Steve’s eyes were glued to his drink. He was bouncing his leg wildly. “I’m sorry, I just…”

It didn’t take a genius to know that when someone was nursing an orange juice in the hotel bar, head hanging low and with a massive pout, there was something incredibly wrong. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m just cranky when I have to get up early.”

Steve waved his hand, “No, don’t apologize. I get it. I mean it.”

Scott ordered his own glass. He spread his lips into a thin line, “Did you want to talk? I’m a great listener. I could listen to Luis go on for hours on end.”

“I need to tell someone.”

“I’m all ears.”

Steve hesitated for only a second, downing the orange juice as if it was a shot. He ordered another. “I kissed Y/N last night.”

“Are you serious?” Scott’s eyes widened and he gurgled his juice on accident. He didn’t know what to say. Congratulations? 

“And we messed around a little bit.”

Now Scott tilted his head to the side and gave the super soldier an amused glare. “Messed around? What is this, the third grade?”

Steve cringed, “I hope to God no third graders are messing around.”

His juice was long forgotten now. “Then call it like it is, Captain. You ‘serviced the Venus’, you ‘made whoopee’, you -”

“That’s calling it like it is?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Very. We just… touched and stuff.”

Steve’s awkward hand gestures caused Scott’s lip to twitch itself into a weird smile. “You ‘cleaned your rifle’? You did the ‘loop-de-loop?”

“Where in the hell are you getting these things from? You think we actually talked like this back in the forties?” Steve covered his ears and lay his forehead against the counter. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just having a little fun.” Scott apologized, trying to make eye contact even as Steve’s head was lowered. “Sorry, no fun.” Still, Steve remained sheltered. “Damn, man. Did something else happen that you’re not telling me?”

Finally, Steve turned his head to look at Scott but left it resting against the counter. “I feel like we crossed a line.”

“You technically violated the mission code of ethics, but.”

Steve snapped up and covered his face with his hands, index fingers pinching the corners of his eyes. “But kissing her didn’t feel wrong. Holding her didn’t feel wrong.”

Scott was in the middle of a rom com. He had to be. There was always that scene where one of the partners freaked out because they themselves didn’t know their own feelings. They would cower in their own little world for about fifteen minutes, or at least fifteen minutes of screentime, and then gain the courage to talk it through. Scott was just that random friend who happened to ask what was wrong. 

But you and Steve were his teammates. The two of you had helped him get his family back. You had been so excited to try out the time machine, shutting everyone else up as they bullied him for simply having the idea. Steve risked his life for him more times than he could count in the past two years. He always suspected something was wrong between the two of you. But no one was brave enough to openly speak about what had happened that night. He just knew what Sam had told him - ‘It’s none of our business. They’re both acting like children. But Steve, even though I love him with all my heart, royally fucked up.’

“Then why are you so worried? Steve, I wasn’t around those five years. Only you know your relationship with her.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Steve mumbled.

His ears were playing tricks. He had gone deaf. “Huh?”

Steve explained further, his face falling with each new confession he spoke verbally. He hadn’t even discussed these feelings with his therapist. Granted, he only spoke of you when you were being a pain in his ass, but romantically? “I don’t deserve to touch her, to have her, to be with her. I left her alone at her most vulnerable, and that you were here for so you know.”

Scott shook his head, “But I have no real say in that. Like I said, only you know what you feel.”

He finished his juice and leaned back in his chair. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and they both turned their attention to the tiny television mounted on the wall playing the morning news. It was hard to believe that a couple years ago, Scott had completely fangirled over being in Steve’s presence. Now he was one of his closest friends. 

His next thought seemed to register slowly and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wait, did you leave her to wake up alone?”

Steve paused and bit down on his tongue. “I, may have done that.”

Scott nodded as he received the confirmation. “You know, Bucky and Wanda have a bet going on over which of you will kill the other first. I think you tipped the victory to her, man.”

Steve returned the slap to the shoulder and stood up. “Thanks, Scott.”

He followed Steve out the entrance. “I don’t feel like this conversation is over, but you gotta go back up there. I’m always here if you want to talk.”

Steve sent him a genuine smile as he walked backwards to the stairs instead of the elevator. “Don’t bring it up.”

Scott saluted him, “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“That didn’t make any-”

Scott clicked the button for the elevator and waved Steve off, “It’s from a show my daughter used to watch, hey, you know what, forget about it.”

    Steve doesn’t quite know what propels him up the stairs instead of the elevator, but it’s probably the need to burn at least one calorie before facing the music. It was an idiotic move leaving you alone to unravel such a major change, and Steve was tired of running. The amount of times he claimed he could ‘do this all day’ and yet, he let the final battle dictate his life afterward. He was just so tired of running from things that required him to stay, and staying for things that destroyed his mental health. 

Scott carried the conversation as they reentered the room, finding you already dressed and smiling bright. But that smile was directed at Scott, a brilliant smile that Steve had been the recipient of just yesterday. 

God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?

“We got a plan?”

It was like clockwork, movements fluid and known. The three of you were slightly out of it, missions depleting in urgency and all. The last mission you had been on in the last two years, besides the ones your father sent you on, had been to a base in Prague where you ran a two-week surveillance on a doctor who was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. Even then there wasn’t much of a physical fight and you were mainly there to assist Sam and Bucky. 

“We’ll get there by 9. You’ll have to shrink down before we even pass the gates.”

Scott drafted the specifics in his notebook, taking careful notes on what he was to look for inside your father’s office. He was instructed to hack the keyboard to list the most used formations of characters, scan for fingerprints, and work through the paper files your father hadn’t yet had time to put away. Once a password was figured out, then the hacking would commence during the rehearsal dinner. 

“Y/N and I will be led through the estate by Seda, no doubt. Once you hear that we’re seated and enjoying breakfast, you can start your deep search.”

Scott added the finishing touches to his suit - upgrades from both Hank and Tony, before he passed of course. 

“Anything I should know? I’m going in blind while you guys have some experience with this crowd.”

You attached the camouflage mic to the back of your neck as you responded, “His office hallway doesn’t have cameras. Neither does the inside. You, as well as Steve and I, are under strict orders to not kill anyone.”

Scott squinted his eyes, “I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.”

You chuckled, “These are violent people, Scott. In order to win, we need to play the part. Which means unless we say the safe word ‘widow’, you can’t intervene.”

Scott searched your face for a joke, the briefing you all had before you shipped out replaying in his head. You had mentioned Seda shot you and that your father basically hated you, but to see you serious now - it was a little unnerving. Sure, he fought aliens and faced off against some of the most evil forces in the universe. But this was family, and when it was family with the evil gene, it made everything much more horrible.

“Okay.”

You all gathered your equipment and headed down to the car. Steve safely hid the shield in the trunk, foregoing any additional weapons than those already attached to his person. He couldn’t risk Ernesto’s men randomly searching the car during breakfast. 

You were already waiting in the passenger seat when Scott gripped Steve’s arm as they finished loading the trunk. 

“You protect her, alright?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Scott wasn’t doubting his ability to do so, but his trust was being enlisted. There wasn’t even a second option. 

Steve would grip the heavens by their feet and pull for the creation of even more fallen angels just for you. 

“I will.” 

     The drive to the estate was a lot less stressful this time. Only because you knew who to expect now. You wouldn’t be catching up with your sister until tomorrow, and you already had an idea what your father was scheming up. The three of you just drove in silence, Steve at the wheel and Scott in the backseat. 

You thought, maybe Steve didn’t fully regret what happened after all. Leaving in the morning was for sure a dick move, but his attitude wasn’t one of someone who would simply ‘hit it, and quit it’. You took pride in what you knew about your Captain, about Steve as a separate entity, and you always expected the best from him. 

Anyone who thought or assumed otherwise was an idiot.

Scott had shrunk down and prepared his own mics as Steve drove onto the deserted dirt road. There were dozens of cars parked outside, but it looked as if their owners were all workers. Considering the wedding was only two days away and the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the workers multiplied and were working overtime. Leave it to your father to make the finishing touches at the last minute. 

Once again, Seda stood outside to greet you and Steve. He looked extra chipper this morning, his aging face contorted into an almost painful smile. And you knew that whenever he smiled at you, he wasn’t harboring the greatest intentions. 

“Good to see you again!”

You slung your arm through Steve’s, unconscious to the fact that Scott stood on your shoulder and hid behind strands of hair. You responded, “Careful, you’ll get cavities with that much sweetness.”

His smile fell slightly, and he looked away to roll his eyes. “Must be contagious considering you’re so full of sugar!”

“You’re weird when you’re nice.”

“Now, I was just about to say the same thing.” Seda held his hand out to Steve, delighted in the strength of his grip. “Captain.”

Steve smirked, a dangerous glint settling in his eyes. The longer hair and beard really did make him look like the anti-Cap. “Sir. Are you joining us for breakfast?”

Seda turned to walk through the open doors. “Of course. Ernesto’s business is as much mine as it is his.”

You let out a tiny snort, “Don’t think he would agree.”

Seda rotated on his heel so quickly the sound of the squeak echoed through the vast mansion. He held his finger out at you, that famous scowl you had grown accustomed to finally making its appearance. “Bite your tongue.”

In an instant, Steve gripped your cheeks and chin with one hand, holding you still to look at Seda. He hated this. He wanted to fight them now.

While you were held in place for him, Seda stepped closer. You could feel the heat of his breath. “I carried this empire while he was dirt.”

Steve’s hand was loose, but his wild look could easily be mistaken for anger toward you. 

Seda’s eyes were cold, filled with an undeniable amount of hatred and selfishness, like he wanted to see you beg for forgiveness. No matter the countless times when any other human being would be crying for mercy, you never did. And Seda despised this skill with all his tainted soul. 

“And look where that got you. Right back in second place.”

For the second time this week, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

Seda’s facial muscles flinched, but he kept his composure. There were too many outside workers wandering around, instructed already to keep their mouths shut about who employed them and were to be paid under the table. With his own tongue bitten, he muttered almost achingly. “Breakfast is this way.”

Letting go of you after Seda turned back around, Steve gently massaged the sides of your chin for a few seconds as you walked. Turning your head quickly left and right and passing a room with no traceable cameras, you caught his hand and pressed your lips gently to his knuckles. Before he could truly enjoy the gentle gesture, you pulled away. And he knew you had to. You had to.

Scott took his leave, jumping onto the nearby potted plant and connecting back with Torres. 

Breakfast was served on the large patio near the west side of the estate. It overlooked a massive man-made lake, rocks circling the bank, and multiple lake chairs facing it. The estate was well hidden away in the forest, tall pine trees enveloping the illegal nature of all that was said and done. The clouds were creating a dark overcast that meant it was going to rain later, maybe soon, and it was going to be heavy. The crew outback had constructed a massive wooden canopy ‘tent’ that extended from one side of land to the other. So if it did rain on the day of the wedding, the only evidence of it would be the wetness reflecting off the soft violet lights they were just now hanging. The tables were set up, minus the chairs and wall decorations, and the staff were barely constructing the floor. 

By instinct, you had already clocked the easiest exit routes and hiding places. The warehouse near the lake looked sturdy - two windows wide enough to shoot from. Steve would have to crouch down low though, so perhaps the wooden table could serve as a temporary shield. 

There had to be a way to casually bring that shield to both the rehearsal dinner and wedding without raising red flags. 

Seda paused and excused himself. While Steve entertained the questions of some of the men casually strolling through, you reached into your pocket and pulled out some new tech you had been dying to finally use. Tony had messed around with so many personalized gadgets for everyone. Peter had his flying spiders, Clint had his flying stars and arrows, and you had your flying butterflies. Little metallic wonders with life-like wing speed that recorded its surroundings and transcribed for your report later. 

It flew gracefully, circling around the tables and even stopping on the window’s edge for a natural effect before flying near Seda and whoever he was talking to. It fluttered and settled, a small light emitting from its antennas. It would fly back once the subject chosen finished speaking. 

While you waited, you wandered. You hadn’t really explored this estate since you were a child but from what you remembered, there was always something new to discover. As a kid, you had asked whoever was present, ‘Is this real?’, ‘Was it alive before?’, ‘How old is this?’.

Roman busts, paintings hanging and stored alike, the ivory tusks. Didn’t seem like your father was collecting much these days. Dust was settled and undisturbed and the stuffed animals needed a serious scrub. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your father had stashed away the damn tesseract at one point or another. 

“Oh, yeeesss,” you whispered, scurrying to the trunk hidden below the pile of discarded tablecloths and curtains. No one else ventured to these rooms, and although there were priceless items stashed away here, they normally functioned as the children's playrooms. There was more money to be made selling drugs than selling ancient artifacts. 

Just like many of the other rooms, this room was basically abandoned. No evidence of swiped fingers or anything. Your attention was drawn to the black trunk, scratched up on the left side and lock practically useless. If you remembered correctly, your iPod shuffle and middle school diary should be in here. 

As corny as that sounded, perhaps the diary had something inside you could work with and use to help aid in the mission. 

The trunk creaked and moaned as you lifted the lid open. You blew the excess of cobwebs away, scanning the corners quickly for any live spiders. Just in case. 

You did, in fact, find the diary. But only the first ten pages were filled out and dated, detailing the story, and quote, ‘2011, what a stupid number! Can’t anything but violence happen?’

Yes young Y/N, you thought to yourself, 2012 was one hell of a year and infinitely worse than stupid little 2011. 

The mountain of miscellaneous items was astounding, swirling up the childhood emotions you seriously missed. There was just something about random, mix-matched, old items that made you giddy. 

When Shield returned Steve’s belongings that had been locked in storage or in the museum when he was pronounced KIA, you were the one bouncing up and down behind him as he opened the boxes. He’d inspect the old watch, pencil set, photographs, clothing item, whatever and then pass it over to you. And he’d pretend to act annoyed by your interest, but the fact that you wanted to learn more about Steve and his life before the war - it was humbling. 

‘Hey, Y/N. You want to know how much porn I just found on Seda’s personal laptop?’

Your whole body was overcome by shivers. You nudged the mic to turn it up louder. “Scott, what the fuck?”

He tried to contain his laughter. ‘My mission is to hunt, gather, and hack. You’ll be pleased to know I got more than just their internet history.’

“Ew.”

A small, red velvet box shoved in the upper left hand corner caught your attention. It’s engraving showed none other than ‘Oxford University’ and that was enough to conclude this too was stolen. You chuckled at how ridiculous this all was. 

Believe it or not, the most legal things in the estate were the stuffed exotic animals and tusks of ivory that had been collected before the nationwide bans. 

This small box contained a few dozen coins from ancient Rome, all of different faces and years. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled, finger-fishing through the box. You made a mental note to instruct your team to also seize and catalog everything that was stolen here. Give Fury more of a headache. 

The figurehead on one of the coins made you pause for a second. The artwork was not as professional as much larger engravings found on the other coins or artifacts, but the features were proud. It was of a man, curly hair and beard to match, with a prominent and strong nose. If you squint hard enough, the hair and beard were Steve’s, absolutely as he had it groomed right now. Last time Steve had grown his hair out this long he was on the run. Guess he really missed the rugged look. 

But that nose. Strong and long and definitely punched to the brim many times before. The last person to set it had been Clint - and the reset had left it looking slightly crooked. Just like the man on the coin. 

“What a beak you got on you, Rogers,” you smiled. You shut the box after pocketing the coin. Making sure everything else was in place, you exited and checked your mic for any unusual activity. You could hear Steve casually speaking and Scott humming under his breath. 

Your little butterfly was spinning in a large circle until it spotted you. It reattached itself to your belt discreetly. 

Seda marched back, looking more annoyed than when he had first greeted you. “Shall we?”

Similar to how he was situated back in his office, comfortable and relaxed in his element, your father sat closest to the lake around the round table, no doubt enjoying the breeze aimed in his direction. The table was full of various foods - mostly fruit and drinks - but there were sides of meats and bread hidden in the pile. 

Ernesto looked like an innocent old man bathed in the colorful array. He was eighty-two (if you count those five years, then he’s only seventy-seven), and it wasn’t just the fruit that made him seem innocent - with the absence of a scowl or a gun in his unbelievably steady hand, he looked like every old man on the planet. An old man with a secret. 

“It’s not everyday you get to dine with the Captain America!”

Already his voice annoyed Steve. But as eloquent as ever, he responded lightly. “It’s an honor, sir.”

Your father sipped his juice, waiting until you were both seated to continue. “So polite, I remember how it used to be.”

Steve shrugged, “The good ole’ days.”

“Exactly. You see, I’m hoping to bring those good ole’ days back.”

“Gonna run for office?” you quipped, reaching over to pop a grape into your mouth. 

Keeping his eyes trained on Steve, your father retorted. “Your jokes aren’t that funny, Y/N.”

“I think I’m pretty funny,” you mumbled through a funny frown. 

The sooner you get some valuable information, the sooner you could leave. At least, that’s what Steve had been reciting in his head as he bit his tongue at your attempt at being funny. “What did you have in mind?”

Ernesto stretched, motioning for the men behind him to pass him some documents from a nearby table. He passed them to Steve, completely ignoring you. “You see, I’m thinking of expanding business. Not just here in the U.S and in Mexico, but across the Atlantic.”

You resisted the urge to sneak a peek at the documents. So you opted to keep him talking. “Woah, you’re not thinking of toppling White, are you?”

Ernesto scoffed, “You think I have a death wish? No, I’m thinking of joining forces.”

You played dumb. “What?”

Seda squinted, stepping forward and gripping your wrist mid-air, evidently stopping you from popping another grape into your mouth. Steve turned his head to stare at Seda with a real and deep grimace, basically instructing him to let go of you as soon as possible. Acting like an asshole when your father was the instigator was one thing, and he hated that he had to bend over for him. But Seda wasn’t in charge, nor would he ever be again, and his hand on you didn’t have to be tolerated. Yes, he knew to keep up the asshole act, but obsessive and protective boyfriend fit the bill as well, he assumed. 

Reluctantly, Seda got the message and let you go. He answered your question after a few awkward seconds, “Expanding into Europe means we dominate the world. Everyone knows that. Europe is the epicenter.”

Oblivious to the whole stare down, you resumed your questioning. “And we come in, where?”

“Your missions - they take you across the ocean, yes?” your father chimed in. 

“Sometimes, sir. We’re away pretty often.” Steve answered. 

“Then that’s perfect. All those opportunities to smuggle my product on your company planes.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in deep thought, almost like you were doing the math in your head. “I doubt the quinjet would pass a weight inspection, Father.”

Ernesto raised his hands in mock offense. “Your Captain here should be able to pull some strings, no?”

Hiding his discomfort, Steve shrugged like it was no big deal. “It would certainly be a difficult task but we can pull through.”

No. Steve has never handled the product, he has never seen the product being moved, he has never signed off on anything pertaining to said product. Fury did - Fury set up everything, he made sure to keep Steve out of it, he protected the shield, he protected Steve. On your word.

Ernesto knew you were the one handling it. He knew Steve wasn’t anywhere near it since you made it abundantly clear that he only green lit the passage routes. 

He was doing this on purpose. Testing Steve’s loyalty in a way. Tying any Avenger’s gadgets to the smuggling, especially transportation methods that were rarely, if ever checked when entering a foreign country, was a violation.  And this violation would then make every Avenger a drug smuggler - a real one - and no one, not even Torres could back you up.  

Blinded by this possible reality, you countered with the best argument you had. “He’s ‘Captain America’. Which means he stays within our borders.”

Ernesto paused mid-drink, a grin forming. He stared at you in surprise, “I’m sorry, did you just give me an order?”

You backtracked, breath still steady. Steve tried to mask his worry by also drinking. “No, I’m trying to help you. What about Ramirez?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

It was silent for a long while. Steve knew better than to come between the uncomfortable glares you and your father were sharing. Ernesto’s answer was confirmation enough for your proposed theory.

He ventured a glance at Seda, who was already looking at him. Confusion rattled him to the bone, but before he could dissect any possible assumption as to why, your father snapped his fingers. 

Seda moved too quickly. He always followed Ernesto’s orders like they were holy commandments, but he had seriously wanted this. He was the muscle after all. 

Seda picked you up out of your seat with the force of one hand, fingers gripped under your chin and squishing your cheeks painfully. With his other hand, he pushed your back forward and held you down on the table. The impact of your body had shattered the plate beneath your chest. But that pain was minimal compared to the elbow digging in between your shoulder blades. 

Almost as quickly as Seda had pounced, Steve was standing. The sound of every gun on the patio cocking rang in his ears, but god forbid that be louder than the sudden squeal that had left your mouth from the force of your assault.  

“See? I give the orders,” Ernesto said, still sitting casually in his seat. “Now, test me again.”

      “There are worse ways to go.”

Natasha was always so calm during these types of situations. A blank face that disguised the true fright she really felt, a mask in other words. But Steve knew the only reason she did that was for the benefit of those around her, regular civilian or superhero alike. She would always keep such a calm demeanor, voice steady and eyes boring into one’s soul as if to transfer whatever inner peace she could find. 

When he had found out Bucky was alive, unresponsive and an empty shell of a man HYDRA had made him, he crumbled into the panic attack he had long awaited. Being thrust into the 21st century without a lick of his past was one thing. But to barely start getting used to this new world, only to be handed the most crazy plot twist of his life, well, it was enough to destroy whatever progress he thought he made. 

And while he rocked himself through it, massive shoulders poking his jawline uncomfortably as he curled in on himself, Natasha had simply laid a cup of tea in front of him and retreated to the other corner of the room, no words exchanged. Good, because he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Is everyone on?”

The planes were being loaded at the fastest rate they could, the only remaining Avengers on land being him, Natasha, and Clint. From what he could see.

“I gotta go get Banner. You head on over to Clint.”

And they functioned like that for the next few minutes, grabbing civilians along the way and praying they themselves would make it to one of those planes. The sudden shower of bullets crushed the hope of that, and Steve stared down at Pietro with an immense guilt about not getting there sooner. 

Losing a teammate, even if that teammate was recruited just a day ago, always hits hard. But they were the Avengers, and if any comic book or superhero movie had been right, then no one ever really died! Yeah, fat chance. 

Steve counted as many heads as he could. He saw Natasha off to the side, and Clint had just stumbled on, and Y/N was-

Wait, where were you?

Steve grabbed his shield and hooked it onto his back, running off the plane and back onto the floating land, ignoring Clint’s yells of ‘get the fuck back here, Rogers!’

“Does anyone have eyes on Y/N?”

The responses were no help; Rhodey had circled the city twice over searching for you, and there was no sign. Maybe you were with Wanda, maybe you were on another plane, maybe you were with Thor and he promised to pick you up and protect you once he catapulted himself - 

‘I’m gonna need you to get your ass back on that plane, Capsicle,’ Tony yelled, interrupting himself as he made painful contact with falling debris. 

Steve was on autopilot, scared out of his damn mind. He never wanted this job, he never wanted to continue working for the government, it was just war after war after war. He just wanted to find Bucky, he just wanted to settle down with a fucking cat or something, he just wanted to live the life he missed out on. But he was also hell bent on saving everyone he could. A sick satisfaction of using the serum’s gifts for what he was built for, a science project and weapon of war. He hated it, he wanted to shrivel back down to his ninety-pound self and pay a goddamn penny for a movie screening again. 

But he had a job to do and he was one of the few people on earth who could actually accomplish it. So, no - Steve will not quit when people need him. He’ll just have to bear it some other way; belt in between his teeth as he clenches down. Because Steve would literally destroy himself for any of his teammates until he was nothing but a pile of discarded remains. 

“What the hell are you still doing on land, Captain?”

He whipped his head to the side and found you, holding a frightened looking dog in your arms, smudges of rubble covering your cheeks and bodysuit. “Oh my god.”

You stomped over to him, the dog clutched to your chest and a tiny limp in your step. “Answer me, Rogers!”

Steve only stared, blinking quickly until an invisible boot kicked him back into gear. His voice was high-pitched as he screamed at you. “You went back for the dog?”

Your face contorted, “Of course I went back for the fucking dog!”

A ridiculous thing, an utter masterpiece of work you were, a vice that gripped him by the throat and would always press down tighter until he was gasping for breath. You went back for the damn dog, and he was about to break down crying not knowing where you were. He just lost one teammate - he couldn’t lose another.

“Well, let’s go!”

Your voice seemed to shock him back into Captain America mode, and as the city leveled and the ground started to break apart, he hoisted you up and onto the plane while making the leap himself. 

     At this point, Steve would blindly agree to anything. If it meant pulling you out of this, he’d do it. He found himself negotiating instantly, like any other hostage situation he had dealt with. “I’m sure our planes can handle a few extra pounds.”

Made sense for Steve to agree - wasn’t like it was going to happen anyway. But the mere thought of having him take the fall for this entire mission going sideways, well, it had ignited the stupid part of your brain. You could have blown this whole mission. You could have blown it all because your father had been doing what he does best: taunting you. And you let it happen. 

“I have already sent word to White that your Captain will be working with him now, too. Anything to topple Ramirez from the top three.”

You lifted your head to glare at your father. “Why didn’t I get a say? I’m as influential as you two!” You grit your teeth. “You did this without consulting us first. So, then what was this?”

Seda applied the full force of his weight, his elbow now pinching into the muscle and causing you to see black spots. You tried to restrain your scream, but it escaped. A few birds left their perch, flying away from the high-pitched noise.

Steve saw red. Bursting flames that climbed and licked up to formless heights and blurred his vision to the point he was pre-serumed, standing small and physically weak again. And pre-serum Steve would happily accept the punches he had coming if he dare intervene. But even if this red was bolstering hot and clawing at his flesh, stepping in now would mean chaos. He couldn’t do anything, he was restricted, strapped down by your own rule, and helplessly watching as your face twisted in pain. 

He felt his heart tearing in two, and yet his face remained calm. Calm and collected. 

“See this as a means to inform you.”

If Seda were to push down again, you figured you’d go out fighting. “A coup? Father, you shouldn’t have.”

“Do we have a deal?” 

If he hooked his arm under the left side of the table and threw it at the correct angle, he would blindside your father and throw Seda off balance, allowing you to take him down. But there were men posted to both his sides and behind him, guns already cocked like they had suspected Captain America to react negatively. 

Scott had to be hearing everything, the poor guy, but you had also instructed him to let you be thrown around like a ragdoll, that you were used to it. Knowing Scott, he would honor your word as scripture for the sake of the mission.

Steve couldn’t stand to look at you in pain anymore. A small part of him wanted to yell, ‘Well stop talking and he’ll get the hell off you!’, like it was ultimately your fault, but he swallowed that shallow thought and bargained instead. “I’ll be needing a copy of your word. For insurance purposes.”

If there was one thing Ernesto respected, it was a man with his own personal agenda. “I knew I liked him, Y/N. A man who knows what he wants and how to make sure it lasts.”

You reached over discreetly, finding Steve’s hand to squeeze tightly. He squeezes back.

The next few minutes were a blur, really. You passed it with pinched eyes and a few uncomfortable moans as Steve and your father wrote up a formal agreement. 

Seda removed himself after Steve signed. You tried not to think too much of it; the contract can be considered void. Torres would look into it. Steve will not become truly involved. 

Your father excused himself and Seda after the pen left paper, leaving the both of you alone.

Steve wanted to hold you, to shield you with his own flesh and bone, to remind you he was on your side. That he would always be on your side. 

The men who escorted you were deep in their own conversations, guns still raised but minds momentarily distracted. So he reached for your hand, an involuntary chuckle escaping him as he saw Scott’s miniature self hiking up the arm he had just grabbed. Your grip was loose, like your mind was elsewhere. 

You all entered the car and buckled up without alerting the men of any wrongdoings. Scott waited until you drove past the cameras and the estate grew smaller in his eyes to return to his normal size. 

They were both worried, eyes meeting in the mirror as if to communicate it. You were so silent, so still, simply looking out the window. Their voices were slightly distorted, far away calls for your attention and you were drowning, suffocating and forgetting that when caught in a riptide, you need to swim sideways and not directly to land-

One quick sob was all it took for Steve to check his mirrors and turn the car into the crowd of pine trees, burying the three of you in their depth and providing temporary solace from the outside world. Your throat burned and itched with the need to cry harder, but you stopped yourself. 

This had happened before. You’ve been subdued and taunted before. Hell, worse has happened to you and you always seemed to hold in the tears until you were in the comfort of your own room or in Natasha’s arms. 

But there was no single room for you to run off to and there was no more Natasha-

It took a moment to register that your seatbelt had been unbuckled, Steve had exited the vehicle, and Scott was already tugging you by the underarms and into the backseat. You were then squished between the two men, with Steve manually tilting your head to rest on the expanse of his chest and Scott with his arms wrapped around your waist to mimic a massive bear hug. 

They let you ride out whatever broken sobs your body produced. There were few tears and your breakdown was amateur at best, but you still broke. There was no point in trying to diminish its importance. You were here, and you had both fresh and dry tear streaks, and it was important to feel. 

At least that’s what Steve had been reciting for the past two minutes as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

You sniffed and wiped your cheeks, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing.”

Scott leaned back to stare at you in pure disbelief, “You have every right to scream, to cry, to tear this world apart. You have a right to feel.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him. 

If Scott wasn’t here, perhaps Steve would allow himself to cry with you. His masculinity was intact, thank you very much, but Scott didn’t need to console two people at once. So he swallowed his pain, secured it back into the safe within his heart that was specifically constructed for you, and held you tighter. 

Out of nowhere, Scott patted your thigh multiple times like a child begging for attention. “We need comfort food. We’ve all had a rough day and it’s not even two o’clock yet! Nothing some french fries and burgers can’t fix!”

It had slipped your mind how little you had actually gotten to eat. Just a few sips of coffee and some grapes. Wasn’t your fault there were more important things to focus on. 

“Can we get, like, a massive tray of fries?” you smiled. 

Scott’s eyes lit up. 

Lots of things are so simple. Or, in theory. Boiling water is simple. Doing laundry. Pumping gas. 

But then there are those simple things that are just not so accessible to everyone. Like, it was simple for Bruce to learn and teach theoretical physics. It was simple for Peter to catch a bus with his bare hands. It was simple for Thor to call upon thunder and lightning and for Loki to cause some mischief. 

For Steve, eating his body weight in fries was simple. 

For Scott, opening the ketchup packets without his thumbs sliding was simple. 

For you, stealing Steve’s fries was simple. 

Maybe because he didn’t stop you. 

     It’s crazy how just a few hours with some close friends made every problem in the world seem nonexistent. You were replenished, in a sense, ready to put any embarrassment and self-hatred behind you in preparation for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Everything up until now was child’s play - now, there were no restraints. You were instructed to strike on the wedding day as that was the day the shipment was moving, but if anything truly dangerous occurred tomorrow, Fury had given the green light to shoot.

It would have been a blessing to just have one more quiet night in, maybe enjoy some more special alone time with Steve. There was a conversation to be had, feelings to be discussed, an argument to start. There needed to be screaming, and crying, and eye rolling - all needed to happen. 

Yes, that would have been great. 

Steve launched the shield across the room the second Scott pushed open the door, the crack of bone and vibranium sounding off. Scott had already unclicked his gun safety, weapon pointed directly at the intruder - who had collapsed to the floor with a bleeding shin clutched in between his hands. You didn’t even realize your gun was also out and cocked. Instinct - skill you had acquired from Natasha and Rhodey. 

Sometimes you wish you could forget how to hold a gun altogether. 

Ramirez was on the floor, having only released a loud howl when the shield connected. He just panted lowly, eyes squeezed shut. He desperately tried to raise his hands. 

“Please… don’t shoot.”

Steve stepped forward, shield braced and covering both you and Scott. You stayed near the door in case Ramirez had any other friends visiting. 

You turned on your mic and hoped it patched through. “Widow.” 

“How did you get past security? How did you know which hotel we were at?”

Ramirez looked over at you, eyes pleading for help from Steve’s questions or from the physical pain. You really couldn’t tell. 

“Answer the questions, Omar.” You used his first name - that told him you were serious. 

“Someone took their smoke break.” He breathed in uneven cycles. “I followed you the first day you arrived.”

Completely baffled, you looked to Scott for some answer he clearly didn’t have. 

“That’s not possible. Our people swept the area, we had eyes on you and-”

Ramirez interrupted shyly, “You had eyes on me. Not my connections.”

“Your men were followed, too.”

Although he was groaning, he still responded as softly as possible. “Connections, mija. They aren’t all a part of the mob.”

Every guest who checked in and out of the hotel were screened for that week. Every employee was vetted. 

“If you’re wondering who it was, I’ll save you the time and say it was simply a passerby who didn’t even enter the hotel. Just followed, then made a U-turn.”

Scott scoffed and lowered his gun, “If it really was that easy…”

Steve kneeled to be eye-level with Ramirez. “Then that means Ernesto already knows about Scott and Torres.”

As quickly as Steve declared this, Ramirez shook his head. “No! I’m not on Ernesto’s side anymore. Haven’t been for a long time!”

“Prove it.”

Ramirez stared at you, eyes pleading for trust. He didn’t look all that intimidating. Short black hair, wrinkles minimal and clothes well-pressed, slim and dark skin clear of any blemishes - he looked like every guy who you would see at the bank. He remained pleading even after Steve patted him down. 

Still kneeling and leg slightly extended to relieve some of the pain, he started to explain himself. “I know when people are acting.”

“What?”

“When you pressed the gun to her chin,” he motioned his hand between you and Steve, “you held her hand.”

Lowering your gun and dropping your shoulders, you released a deep sigh. “You were behind us.”

He agreed, “I was behind you.” He inspected the room with a small smile, glancing at all three of you in amusement. Once his sight rested on Steve, he tipped his chin up and smirked. “I heard you could pick up Thor’s hammer.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, annoyed, and turned to check the hallway. Your mic was muffled, but you swore you could make out the voices of Torres and Sam.

“Any man who can do that is good, right?”

Scott nodded, “According to legend-”

Steve blinked at him, “Scott.”

“That little gesture of care, plus the cell phone videos I saw you in from two years ago-” Ramirez started, but was interrupted. 

Steve squinted, “Saw us where?”

“The phone videos on Youtube.”

You stepped back into the room, stuttering over your words. “What phone videos? Be clearer.”

“You defended that child. The - the spider child,” he pointed at Steve, wincing as he shifted his leg. “And you got into that bar fight, busted someone's head into the floor.”

“No, PR made sure they were deleted. Hill said there was no trace of them-”

“My two youngest daughters were fifteen at the time. They knew about the video the minute it aired. They saved it.”

Scott sighed, shaking his head at the memory of having to bail both you and Sam out of jail. It was a nice turn of the tables, though. “...We didn’t factor in the possibility of teenagers screen recording?”

Ramirez chuckled, “Seems not.”

     It was certainly an eventful night for PR. A complete disaster they had to cover up and twist for the media. There were four Avengers mixed up in this chaos, and since the perpetrators didn’t quite succeed in kicking your asses, PR might just finish the job for them. 

On one side of town, Steve was responding to an urgent call from Happy asking if he was in the vicinity. Peter had been visiting a study group in Brooklyn, careful as ever, but still stumbled upon bullies. Steve lived close and instead of ringing the whole team, Happy put his trust in the person Tony would have also called. 

It was a scene he hoped he would never have to witness again. To see such cruelty months after the final battle, a battle everyone knew the kid played a major part in, it tore Steve apart shred by miserable shred.

Peter was crouched against an alley wall, shielding his face with his arms as five boys around his age pounded away. He appeared to be clutching his phone, the line still connected with Happy, and he was begging them to stop. 

Steve had never run so fast. He dodged a few cars and strollers along the way, mind fogged with desperation and anger. He now knew how Bucky felt when he saved Steve from all those alley fights back in the day.

It didn’t even register in his mind that he had pulled at least two of the boys away and threw them into the opposite wall, or that he had clutched one's throat so tight that Peter’s thumbs were now digging under his clenched palm with the plea of ‘Cap, let him go!’.  

He dropped the boy, no more than seventeen, on the ground and stepped away to inspect Peter. A busted lip, what looked to be two purpling eyes, torn clothing, and bruises along his ribcage that showed through the new holes in his shirt. The five boys all stood and cowered backwards. 

They shouted and name-called, spit on the floor and taunted the two superheroes. It wasn’t until Peter leaned into Steve’s chest and pushed him back that Steve realized one of the boys was recording the whole thing. 

Against his better judgement, he let them go. There wasn't anything beneficial to be done besides file a police report - not that it would do much anyway. 

He took Peter back to his apartment and called Happy himself. He stitched the nasty cut on the kid’s forehead. He fed him some soup and crackers. He gave him some spare clothes that had shrunk in the washer. Peter’s smile was so broken as he interrupted the silence while Steve cleaned away the dry blood, a simple explanation of ‘I obviously couldn’t fight back’. 

And fuck, Steve knew the kid was right. 

On the other side of town, the night had started pretty nicely. Two beers in and your conversation with Sam was littered with constant laughter and childhood stories. The bar wasn’t that crowded for a Thursday night, just a few regulars and a small office party.

Your conversation was interrupted by two men who had clearly been holding their tongue. First they harassed you for being Avengers and destroying the city every other week - which granted, was a pretty reasonable argument. You let that one slide. But then they hassled you on who you employed: an ex-con who was clearly only abusing his influence on Hank Pym, a mental woman who took an entire town hostage because she was obviously evil at heart and a witch (‘fuck her children, what about mine?!’), and a teenager who had murdered a true superhero who was only trying to warn and rid the world of him. 

You and Sam remained seated, jaws clenched and hands wrapped tightly around your drinks. If you ignored them long enough, they would go away. The bartender will surely throw them out, they were becoming too rowdy. You were better than them and there was absolutely no need to freak out over words. They were just words. 

“I say we head on over to Queens and pay that sweet Aunt of his a visit!”

Sam let out a quick and prepared sigh, “Shit.”

He threw the first punch, launching himself at the biggest of the two men and hitting the ground. You leaped over the bar counter and tackled the second guy before he could join Sam’s fight. He was clearly caught off guard, arms fumbling wildly as he tried and failed to keep his balance. But your sudden momentum caused his decline, and you were hammering your fist down onto his face like your life depended on it. 

Sam quickly took his gun from his pocket and threw it across the room. He couldn’t risk either of the guys getting a hold of it. He rolled onto all fours before sweeping his leg to trip the guy as he attempted to stand. He shuffled and grabbed one of his arms, legs wrapping themselves over the dude’s shoulders and squeezing his neck. If there was one thing Natasha had taught her friends, it was how to subdue a man with just the thighs. 

The brawl lasted maybe a good two minutes before other customers stepped in and separated you. Out of anger, you kept kicking and struggling. It wasn’t until the doors burst open and police drew their batons that you realized you royally fucked up. Everything was eerily silent and out of pure personality, you scooted away from the remnants of the fight as discreetly (but most obviously) as you could. 

You were booked, charges later dropped. Sam’s mugshot showcased a thin smile, like he knew the record would be expunged within the hour. Yours displayed a cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips. 

Yeah, PR didn’t have a nice night.

     “What about the videos, Omar?”

Ramirez gave you a sincere look, “No one on Ernesto’s team risks their reputation like that. You have his rage, but he doesn’t have your morality. Save the next question, I know what you two were fighting about.”

Even if you did get caught and the videos went viral, there was no way the world could know your connections. “The world doesn’t know about my family connections. Fury made sure to never input it into Shield’s database.”

“Imagine how terrified Ernesto was when the Russian spilled all their secrets.”

“Natasha,” Steve asserted. “Her name was Natasha.”

Ramirez bowed his head, “Natasha. I’m sorry.” He turned back to you. “You were barely starting out when that happened, no?” 

You were getting impatient with no backup. “Your point?”

“You’re working against him, aren’t you? You’ve always been working against him.”

You raised your gun again and stalked toward him. “Choose your next words carefully.”

Again, he raised his hands in defense. “I’m not with him. He doesn’t know I’m here, neither does White.” 

There was a long pause as you all pondered over his admission. Even though you vouched for him just yesterday, there was still so much to consider before jumping to his conclusion. “I think they’re plotting to kill me.”

Steve chuckled under his breath, “We know.”

Ramirez reacted like he was just slapped in the face. “You know?”

After a long train of thought, Scott interjected with his own idea. “That plot of land you bought - it’s not for drugs, is it?”

“I mean, half of it is for drugs.”

“Omar,” you demanded.

“Yes, yes. But the other half is entirely unrelated.”

Scott motioned for him to continue, “Enlighten us.”

And the small, proud smile on his face gave you the feeling he really was telling the truth. “It’s a refugee camp.”

Steve stuttered, “Drugs and refugees?”

Ramirez pushed himself toward the nearby chair and hoisted himself up. “I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know.” He let out a pained hiss. “But the Mexican government has already approved it. Well, if you can call it a government. They’re one of the few who still haven’t recovered from everyone coming back.”

“So, what? Are you making the refugees work for you?” you questioned. 

Ramirez widened his eyes. “What? No, no! The drugs are for income. For food, shelter, medicine, todo lo demas!”

Steve huffed, “Let me guess. The drugs aren’t real and anyone who finds out the truth will turn a blind eye.”

“Exactly.”

It was obvious why Ramirez wanted someone to know about the possible scheme. But why that someone happened to be you and your team, you honestly didn’t know. By logic, if you had been playing your father all this time, wasn’t it reasonable to assume you had or continue to play Ramirez?

“And you’re telling us for what? To save your ass?”

Ramirez countered with a question of his own, “Why are you here? After what Seda did to you, I can’t believe it.”

“Stop, just stop.” You were about done with all of this.

“You’re here to arrest us, right? I’m assuming I’m included.”

You raised your head, trying desperately to depict true regret in the stare you gave him. “I’m sorry.”

He sadly shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I know why you’re doing it.” He turned to Steve. “I’m just asking for a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Protect my daughter.”

Your jaw dropped lightly as you heard his selfless favor. “Your daughter?”

“Her name is on the deed. I think Ernesto wants my land.”

“And once you’re taken out, she’s the only thing standing in his way.”

“Either he marries her-” he took a long pause to breath in deep. “Or he kills her.”

“Take her off of it?” you stated with confidence since it was more of a suggestion than a question. 

A deep frown etched into his face. “She’s somewhere in Asia right now. I need her signature. And all the forgers haven’t called me back.” He sighed and reached down to grip his bloody shin again. “She won’t make it back in time for the legal route.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He surprised you by setting the shield down on the couch. “Then we won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise me.”

You started to express remorse about the situation but were immediately cut off. “We aren’t in the business of making pro-”

“We promise.” 

You turned your head sharply, eyes round and mouth dropped. It was all you could muster up to show Steve your shock. He ignored your judgement, even if he did just break one of the top ten rules on the ‘what not to do as a superhero!’ list. 

Finally, uniformed officers scrambled into the room with their weapons drawn. Torres led them, hair all disheveled and cheeks pink.  “I’m so sorry. The connection was hacked and the cameras were delayed-”

You moved to stand near him, “It’s okay. Hey, we’re okay.”

Torres kept eye contact with you for only a second more, not really accepting that his tardiness should be casually swept under the rug like that. He immediately signaled for his officers to arrest Ramirez. “Get on your knees.”

Ramirez raised his hands and tried to stand. “With all due respect, your Captain might’ve broken my leg. I can’t kneel again or else I might cry.”

You tugged at Torres’s jacket and whispered. “Joaquin, just take him in for questioning. But you gotta release him-”

His eyes rounded. “What? We finally got him!”

“You have to release him. He has to be at the wedding.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered after a long pause and internal struggle. 

Just like that, Torres and his officers hoisted Ramirez up and dragged him from the room. For him to risk coming here, with no backup (according to security cameras and his word) and trusting his gut that you weren’t dirty - he must have been telling some truth. Steve followed Torres out, leaving you and Scott to report back to Sam and Bucky. 

Steve had only made it down the hallway when Ramirez stumbled into the wall. “Stop here, please.”

Steve was immediately defensive. “I’m not going to apologize for protecting my team.”

Ramirez didn’t seem to mind that he would be having trouble walking at the wedding. Granted he didn’t play a major role in the actual wedding, but he still needed to be present during the shipment transport. He inwardly thanked the fact the rehearsal dinner was only for close family. “Captain. Joaquin, is it? I know you heard everything I said. Mexico is your homeland. Your people.”

Torres allowed Ramirez to lean on the wall without his help. “I know my roots.”

“I wasn’t lying about the refugee camp. And I know you’ve done a lot in that area of work.”

“How do you-” Torres stammered, eyes flashing to Steve with worry. 

“Mijo, I have connections all over the world. And because I’m not an evil son of a bitch, I tend to keep them.”

Torres looked from Steve to Ramirez debating on whether to entertain this conversation any longer. But if training taught him anything, it was that if the suspect is talking, keep him talking. He motioned for his officers to leave them. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Ernesto knows about the camp. He knows the size of land. He knows my connections. He will kill me for it.” 

Steve mumbled, “Ernesto doesn’t seem like he’s much into the business of helping the less fortunate.”

Ramirez takes a grand leap here, Steve thinks, because the next words out of his mouth completely blindside him. It seemed like even saying them also left a bad taste in the criminal’s mouth. “You have to swear not to tell Y/N.”

Stepping forward and looking down at the injured man, Steve had to restrain himself from yelling his response. “Excuse me?”

“We can’t let her know right now.”

Torres held the same expression as Steve.

“You expect me to keep a secret from my partner? About her own father?”

“For the sake of your mission - yes, I know you’re planning on intercepting the shipment during the wedding - you cannot tell her until the day of the wedding.”

Steve hates that his reasoning is valid.

“Can’t tell her what?”

“The shipment isn’t a ‘what’. It’s ‘who’.”

“A hostage?” Torres almost yells because this changes the landscape, the game, the whole entire mission. 

“Multiple.”

“No, he’s not - he can’t be,” Torres is stuttering now, phone in his hand and about a dozen numbers he needs to call. 

Still, Ramirez seems like he’s telling the truth. Or at least, that’s what his body language tells Steve. “I would not lie about this.” 

Ramirez takes a deep breath before hanging his head in what looks like shame. “Ernesto is planning to kill me, marry or kill my daughter, and use the land to traffic humans.”

It immediately clicks with Steve. The reason why Ramirez was being edged out, the reason why your father wouldn’t tell you where the shipment was currently located, the reason business was going to boom in Europe. 

Ramirez continued, “Drugs are big business, Captain. But the sale of human lives…”

“The shipment - where is it?” Steve asked. 

“He wouldn’t tell me or White. That’s why we have to wait until the wedding. We can’t risk-”

Torres ended a phone call Steve hadn’t even known the kid had been on. He hooked Ramirez’s arm around his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Ramirez accepted the help, limping a few steps down the hallway before turning back to Steve. “Trust me when I say I know your partner, Captain. She can’t know right now. She’d kill him.”

But wasn’t that what you all wanted?

Flustered and quite overwhelmed with everything that had happened this morning and afternoon, Steve took a few minutes in the quiet hallway. 

There wasn’t much for him to do. Except set up security - because if there was one thing Steve was definitely going to do, it was see this whole mission through. 

The rest of the team back home would be briefed in the next few hours. And since Torres would be giving the briefing, everyone would know that this was a major secret kept from you. It would eat away at everyone, especially Steve. 

Digging into his pockets for his burner phone, he dialed the one number he thought you would be satisfied by.

“Maribel, hey. It’s Steve Rogers. I need a favor.”

     It wasn’t hard for Steve to conceal secrets. He was trained in code, intercepted Nazi messages during the war, and negotiated the safe return of hostages more times than he could count. 

Not telling you this would perhaps bite him in the ass in the long run, and there would most certainly be a dreaded argument in his future. But when he truly thought about it and what it could possibly mean if you seriously went out of your way to end this mission quicker than it was planned - the best possible choice was to keep this secret. 

Either he could tell you right now and have you do with it what you will, or he could tell you on the day of the wedding when all bets are off and the mission could be a success. 

That’s all the both of you have ever wanted, this he knows for sure. Getting rid of these people, getting rid of your father with help from the Avengers and their close connections, was worth more than a petty argument with the top crime boss who would never change his ways. It was best to stick it out, and tell you when the time was right. 

Because he will tell you. He promises himself that. 

After discussing the day and the rest of the plan over video chat, it was concluded that Sam and Bucky would be flying out a day earlier than planned. Having Ramirez simply waltz into the hotel when someone was having their regular smoke break was much too insane to ignore, and the more backup you guys had tomorrow and the next, the better. 

Scott took his leave after triple-checking if you were alright. He even offered to have a couple drinks with you down at the bar. You declined, excuse being that you would drink tomorrow at the dinner. 

Shrugging off your jacket and shirt was more painful than you hoped. It felt like someone had punched you with all their strength smack-dab in the middle of your fucking spine. Which, come to think of it, kind of happened? The pressure Seda applied was meant to subdue in the most awkward and painful of ways. He was trained to do so. Still, removing your bra should have been a simple task and instead it hurt like a bitch. 

The warm water from the shower relaxed the strained muscles as best as it could, and you only suffered minimally while applying your shampoo and conditioner. It was the hair drying and brushing of the hair that would prove difficult. 

Giving up halfway, you opened the bathroom door and peeked through, hoping Steve decided to stay in for the night. He was simply lounging on his bed, back pressed against the headboard as he watched Finding Nemo on Disney Junior. He was already dressed for bed.

“Steve?”

He glanced at you, worry etched on his face as he took in your embarrassed expression. “What is it?”

You opened the door fully, pajamas already on and a wet towel in your hand. You blushed madly. “Could you help me dry my hair? It hurts when I raise my arms.”

Steve was out of bed the second he heard the word ‘help’. “How bad is it? We can always fly in Dr. Cho to get you checked out-”

You giggled, passing him the hotel hair dryer. “I’ll just pop some advil every few hours and annoy you for a massage before tomorrow’s dinner. That sound good?”

He didn’t want to agree. If you were actually in severe pain, it wasn’t helpful to you or the mission. He cursed himself for not relieving you of Seda’s elbow sooner. 

“If you say so.”

You turned back to the mirror and gripped the counter, fingers tapping away as Steve grabbed the essentials. He used one of the hand towels to squeeze the excess water from your tips and separated your hair into sections. He blow dried your hair for a couple of minutes before deciding to alternate with the brush. 

The brush was shaped like a cylinder, the bristles much softer than that of other brushes he’d seen. 

“Just use it like any other brush. But once you get close to the tips, start twisting it. It’ll make my hair wavy.”

Steve nodded, doing exactly as you instructed. It was fifteen minutes of pure laughs and jokes as Steve styled your hair like some seventies movie star. He had always enjoyed the culture from that time and even if the show wasn’t actually set in the seventies, it was one of his guilty pleasures to watch That 70’s Show with Wanda. 

     Once finished, the two of you brushed your teeth and finished the rest of the movie in comfortable silence. He didn’t want to become distracted by something new so he shut off the television and turned to you, all snuggled up and scrolling through your phone. 

It was now or never. 

His voice was tinier than he hoped it would be, “Do you regret what we did?”

You were lying on your side facing Steve, phone plugged into the charger. You looked up, voice as equally tiny. “Oh, we’re talking about it now?”

Steve smiled, “You haven’t exactly brought it up either.”

“Well,” your chuckle came out as a huff. You put your phone back onto the bedside table.  “No, I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?”

“Did you want me to?” you sounded surprised, but Steve knew you well enough to know you were only teasing. 

“No, I just-”

“Do you?”

“You gotta stop interrupting me,” Steve sighed. You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t regret it.”

You bit your lip and sat up straighter so your back was also leaning against the headboard. “So we both don’t regret it.”

“God, you annoy the hell out of me, you know that?” Steve admitted, kicking off his sheets and presenting what looked to be both a sad and honest grin. 

You laughed, kicking the sheets off as well and dangling your legs over the side. “Do I! You only remind me every damn day!”

Steve softened his voice once more, grin still present. “And yet, you never take a hint.”

You craved this playfulness and if you could continue like this for the rest of the night, for the rest of your lives, you would. But you remembered that there was a real conversation to be had. About the last seven years, the last two years, the last couple of days. Whether that conversation remained civil or evolved into an argument, it had to happen. 

“I guess we both act like everything is past us when it clearly isn’t. What should we do?”

Steve hesitated, “Do you want to fight?”

You shrugged, “I think we need to. I don’t plan on not speaking to you for months after if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

He huffed an involuntary laugh, body leaning forward slightly, “I hope not.”

You shared small smiles from your sides of the room, the air growing thicker but not uncomfortable enough to leave the room altogether. 

Steve decided to speak first. “I was stupid. And I made the wrong fucking choice. I was the biggest goddamn idiot on the planet to do that to a friend.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Yeah. All of that’s true. But you still haven’t told me why you did it. You just gave me a half-assed apology because Sam forced you to, and you wonder why we never had our nightly girl talks again.”

“When I apologized, I hardly meant it.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Good start, Steve.”

“No, I-” he laughed, getting up to sit beside you. “I realized that I was truly, actually sorry… when you gave me your blood.”

You cringed, looking away from him and at the random monitors. “It sounds horribly cryptic when you say it like that.”

He smiled big, “It wasn’t even a mission. And if I recall correctly, you told me you would only help me again if we were on a mission.”

“Oh.”

He scooted closer to take your hand in his. “No, not ‘oh’. I was in and out of it but I can clearly make out when I’m getting a blood transfusion.”

“You weren’t gonna die-” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly drawing circles on Steve’s knuckles. 

“Recovery would have been a hell of a lot harder.”

“I wasn’t the only volunteer-”

“You were the first.”

“So you’re interrupting me, now?”

Steve's smile never faltered. He leaned in and squinted playfully. “How does it feel?”

Pursing your lips, you surrendered. “Go on.”

“You won’t believe me when I say that I truly don’t know why I quit on you. I was just tired.”

“Tired of me?”

“God, no,” he responded quickly. “Tired of myself.”

“Steve…”

He stood up again. Running a hand through his hair, he took tiny steps back and forth. “We brought everyone back and they didn’t know they had been gone for years. I had to tell -” 

He swallowed hard, holding back tears. “I had to tell everyone Nat sacrificed her own soul for theirs.”

“Steve, we could have done it together. I was by your side,” you stood up as well, reaching out to grip his forearm. 

“And then Nick told me about your father. And how he was just picking up where he left off. Like Nat’s sacrifice meant nothing. Like it still means nothing.”

You sighed, a disappointed pout on your face. “So you took it out on me?”

His shoulders fell in defeat as he gently slapped his arms down over his hips. “I have no other excuse.” 

He didn’t try to sugarcoat it. It was the truth. No matter who asked the question, no matter how much he thought about it, the answer truly was that Steve had no excuse. You were the one thing connected to the evil of the past that he so desperately wanted to leave behind. “And then the world was just… we didn’t fix it.”

“How can you say that?”

He explained further, “People moved on. Five years was a long time and we just mucked it all up again.”

“Do you feel like Nat’s sacrifice wasn’t worth it?”

“She died for us. And the world was so chaotic the first few weeks. There were no breaks, there was nothing we could do but… watch.”

You could see where he was coming from. “Pepper has donated so much money. Created foundations. Bruce is locked in his lab all day trying to help slow down the sudden CO2 emissions. Bucky joined the Avengers for a fresh start. And Wanda-”

Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Oh, god, Wanda.”

“Steve,” you stepped in front of him and tried pulling his hands away. He let you guide his arms back to his sides. “You can’t just blame yourself for something we all did.”

A tiny puff of air left his lips before he forced a smile. “Can’t I?”

“You tell this to your therapist, right?” you teased, happy to see him break slightly as he rolled his eyes. “You blame yourself, but I’m saying you don’t have to.”

He traced his index finger down from your shoulder to your wrist. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

And you believed him. The world could explode and erase you from existence and you would still believe him. 

“I feel like saying ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it.”

“I’ll work with whatever you can give me.”

And God, Steve thinks about how beautiful you look in the muted light of his bedside lamp, hair still a little frizzy from the hair dryer and the most radiant smile. So… soft. Again, the only sound besides your easy breathing and slight whistle was that lamp, the most annoying, fuzzy sound. Everything just felt so hazy, so tranquil, so… and yes, he’ll use the word again: soft. He could stay in that moment forever, where you were his and he was yours. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Steve shakes his head, wonder drowning out all other senses as he focuses on you. He steps closer, enveloping you in a tight hug, mindful of your bruised back. Before he could overthink this moment, to ruin it with the side of himself he was trying to lose, he leaned in to capture your lips in a most chaste kiss. 

It had been a long time since Steve had kissed anyone. The kiss you shared yesterday was the catalyst, but this was a promise. His last kiss was before the snap while he was on the run and trying to avoid responsibility. But it wasn’t like someone before wanted to bask in the warmth of Steve Rogers - no - there was actual emotion to this kiss. 

An ache swelled in the middle of your chest, hammering surely and true. Your mouth falls open the same time Steve inches his hand up your neck, allowing for the kiss to deepen and last. 

His heart was breaking and repairing itself all at once. Breaking for the time he had lost, repairing for the time he had gained. He needed you, wanted you, lost himself in your touch. That same ache in your chest grew in his, pulsating and heavy. His fingers crept into your hair, curling themselves in the loose strands.

He swears you were born for this - to be willing and wanting and breathtakingly good at kissing. He’s so desperate to feel more of you, to taste more than he thinks he deserves, and he almost whines when your fingers also start to tangle in the hair near his neck. 

“Steve, are you sure we should be doing this?” Your voice prompted him to kiss deeper, apply more pressure in the fear that you would change your mind - change your mind about him. 

Almost immediately, red flags propped up and he had to force himself away. He didn’t know your dating history, he didn’t know if you ever emotionally recovered from your assault, he didn’t know. He cursed inwardly for last night, keeping a respectable distance as he checked. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise you that.”

His voice was thick like honey, smooth and true in the honest words he was saying. 

You had been hesitant for a long while after what had happened to you. You couldn’t stand the simple touch of anyone besides Natasha. But she helped you through it, she shared her own experiences from the early Red Room days, and she had never officially recognized your recovery - she didn’t have to as long as you knew in your mind and body that you had. 

‘The dreadful experience will be a part of you, but it will not ever control you.’ Her words were like prayer. 

But Steve’s touch was natural and wanted. You never shied away from him, not ten years ago and certainly not now. He would never hurt you, you knew this, and he was double-checking to confirm it. 

“I only want you.”

His face resembled a literal question mark, like he didn’t quite accept your admission. Like it was hard to believe you wanted to be with him after everything he put you through. “Do you want me?”  

“Yes. Honest to God, I’m just going with what feels right.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying you’re thinking with your dick.”

Steve couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that left his lips and hit yours. He pulled back and smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I promise you it’s not that.”

You cupped his face and drew tiny circles on his flushed cheeks. “Hm, so you don’t know what you’re doin’? Thought you always had a plan.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And apparently I’m always brave.”

“And righteous.”

“Downright patriotic.”

You grinned up at him, your toes sore from how long you had been bending them to hoist you up. “So, your plan?”

Steve kissed you once, twice, three times. “I don’t have one.”

“Pretty brave of you to admit that.”

Steve’s smile dropped slightly to showcase a more serious emotion. Still, his eyes held the most genuine quality. “I just want to be yours.”

You pressed up against him, tiptoes straining and fists clutching his shirt. The kiss was desperate now, as were the both of you. You gasped in between each long peck. “All this time? Why didn’t we say something?”

Embracing you once more, Steve led the two of you to the foot of his bed and fell forward. He landed on top of you, weight nowhere near actually crushing you. His legs were slightly parted, his knees touching the lateral sides of yours. Accepting that the both of you had played a role and delayed this portion of your relationship - Steve was a coward, he knew this, but hearing you say that you also realized your mistakes made him feel weirdly glad. Like he wasn’t alone in this.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Steve breathed in your neck, kissing the depths of your collarbones and the points of your shoulders. 

“Never,” you whispered, gasping a moment later as he sucked particularly hard. You reached below and tugged the end of his shirt upward. He took it off quickly and before resuming his conquest on your neck, he tugged yours off as well. 

It functioned like this for another ten minutes, strong kisses and gasps and whines, before you were both down to your underwear and simply petting each other higher up on the bed. 

Steve pulled away abruptly, a blush spreading along his neck and down his chest as he thought about the best way to phrase his next sentence. “I didn’t really pack any condoms.”

You actually snorted, pushing away loose strands of your hair as you looked up from beneath him. “Woah, how far did you think you were going to get here, Rogers?”

He was used to the sarcasm, but oh my god did it do something feral to him while in bed with you.  He suddenly flipped you over, holding your hips above his as you settled yourself. It was like a case of whiplash, and before you knew it, you were placed on top of him to grind down and do all the work yourself. 

“Seriously?” His voice was light but raspy, both a sweet question and a warning. 

You grind your hips down on him, feeling the way his hard cock rubbed against your clothed core. Last night was different - you could feel the heat of him, the initial size not lost on you whatsoever. But here you were actually seeing the thick outline in all its glory, a small wet patch forming on his briefs near his twitching tip. “Years of sleeping in my bed only to want to fuck me now?”

He rolled his hips up, his palms beginning a slow and steady pace smoothing alongside your stomach. You relaxed right away, even though it felt like your insides were going to turn upside down, and you rested your hands over his to help guide him. 

“You gonna let me?”

 And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing in the whole world. His palms continued their tracks, reaching up to cup your breasts through your sports bra.  You got the message, giggling as you lifted your arms up. He lifted it up and over your head, throwing it to the other side of the room. Steve immediately attacked, lifting himself and readjusting your hips as well. He sucked your left nipple like a goddamn professional, swirling his tongue around the tight nub and using his teeth only briefly, delighted in the sharp hitch in your breath as he did so. He moved on to the other one, repeating the same process and grinding your hips down on him to match. He trailed quick pecks along your chest and up your neck, his hand finding its way back to your hair. Just below your occipital, so very sensitive, and he tugged your head back at an awkward angle. He kissed his way up, stretching your neck out, and you adjusted to the burn as quickly as the pleasure from it came. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, mind scrambled but still coherent enough to remember you were on birth control and clean. “I have the shot.”

This had Steve reeling, balance now off as he flipped you once more, hips coming down to meet yours as you thrust upward looking for some relief. The thought of spilling into you with no barrier had to be one of the kinks he didn’t know he had. 

“Safe word?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully, “Really, Steve?”

“Safe. Word.”

It wasn’t like you were about to tie each other down for your first time together, but you knew what was flying through his mind. He needed to know you felt safe during whatever the two of you did tonight, make sure you felt calm and at ease and relaxed. Steve would rather die than hurt you physically. 

“Widow.” You paused, smirking up at him as he accepted your decree. “Great, now I’m thinking about Natasha and that time she entered the compound in just that little, red bikini-”

Steve thumbed your bottom lip, then carefully shoved it into your mouth and placed it over your lax tongue to get you to stop talking. Your jaw instantly relaxed and you waited a few moments before locking eyes and enclosing his thumb in your lips. You sucked and swirled your tongue around it, pushing slightly so it rested on your puckered lips. Steve rolled his hips down again, his heat meeting yours in a mash of uncoordinated thrusts. You spread your legs to allow him more room. He had to remove his thumb in fear he would come right then and there.

He inched down lower, hands reaching down to cup your ass and lift you up slightly. He kissed all along your thighs, up to your hip bones, expertly avoiding the one area he knew you wanted him. His beard scratched and poked on your delicate skin, tickling you as he moved closer to your center. This would most certainly hurt in the morning, but nothing a little lotion and vaseline couldn’t fix. You mewled embarrassingly loud, a long drawn out sound that caused Steve to involuntarily rut against the mattress. It had been so long since he had been with someone. But this someone was you. He honestly didn’t know if he could hold out for as long as he wanted. He slowly peeled off your underwear. 

“Where do you want me?”

You lifted your head from the pillow to look down at him, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks incredibly red. “Games, Rogers?”

Steve growled and hoisted your open legs on his shoulders, pulling you closer so that you could feel his stuttering breath. “I’m the one playing?”

His question didn’t quite land considering his sudden manhandling had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and momentarily blinding you. After such a harsh day, the roughness of this particular situation shouldn’t have been so well received by your body. But it was consensual, it was with someone you trusted, and you were also in control. Just knowing that made you crave it. 

“If you don’t get your mouth on me-” you started, trying desperately to move your hips closer to his mouth. And god, did he want to dip lower and suck your glistening heat under his waiting mouth. You were positively dripping, all shiny and welcoming. He hadn’t ordered dessert with dinner, and hey, this would do nicely. 

But your quick quips ignited the Steve that would pick you last during training line-ups. He would leave you for the end, without a team, foot tapping rapidly on the floor as you glared at him with an amused smile. Then he would act like you were the last choice he just had to pick, which you were, and you’d lose the first match on purpose to ruin his scoreboard. It always worked like this, he knew, but did he ever pick you first the next time? No, your bothered attitude excited him too much.

Now, with an impatient attitude bolstering underneath his body, he found himself raising his hand a few inches up in the air. “Stop sassin’!”

The slap echoed after it connected against your bottom, the angle at which it impacted clumsy and inelegant. He smacked the side, surprised by the sharp scream you exhaled. As quickly as he acted, he pulled back. “Oh my god, I should have asked first. I’m so sorry.”

You opened your eyes, the soft light illuminating the room still too bright. You shook away the white spots from your vision. You seriously didn’t know if that was an orgasm or simply a tidal wave of intense pleasure. Still, you were sort of out of it as Steve’s voice tried to draw you back in. 

You looked down at him, “Do that again.”

Steve blinked quickly, unknowing if he truly registered your words correctly. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy that. But oh my god, do that again.”

Steve hesitated and to ease into it better, he decided to not keep you waiting any longer and attached his eager lips to your gleaming ones down below. You fluttered your eyes shut, surprised by how quickly he found your sweetest spot, and you rutted against him harder as the minutes flew by. He swirled his tongue in tight O’s and figure eights, teeth barely scratching but when they did, sent you flying upwards. But he just gripped onto your thighs and readjusted you on his shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. His beard burned the inside of your thighs, rubbing deliciously and uncomfortably. He shifted his soft and wriggling tongue to that special spot on the inside of your left lip, his fierce grip not allowing you to shift away as he ate. The hands that were clutching the bedsheets now flew onto his scalp, gripping his hair tightly and you pushed him in deeper. Steve groaned from the pleasant sting, cock straining in his briefs as he rutted into the air. 

The pressure was too much and you wanted him off of you and on you at the same time. Moaning so loud it was deafening, you didn’t notice he lost his grip on one of your legs to connect his palm back to the side of your ass. 

“God!” you yelled blissfully, one hand leaving his head to slam back into the headboard. He repeated the action, his own moans vibrating on you and sending you to a different plane of existence. Each slap grew in strength and he alternated sides, his mouth never leaving your sweet center.

He was sweating now, dying to touch himself and get you off at the same time. He circled his hips mid-air, the friction against his briefs not enough and all too much. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you like that,” he whined. 

You chuckled through desperate moans, “Are you judging me right now?”

“I’m judging how fucking wrecked it makes me,” he admitted, mouth now working overtime and ready to lead you off the edge. He worked faster, tongue now assaulting your clit eagerly. Steve can feel both his pulse and your pulse gaining momentum, thrumming away inside his skull and vibrating deliciously as he brought you closer. He suspects you’ve got a few good seconds before you’re coming on his mouth. 

“Steve… Steve!” you begged, hips bucking awkwardly against him. He wrapped both arms around your thighs again and headed for the finish line, humming against you and basking in the glory of your end. You broke around him, the scream you let out causing the heat in his stomach to tighten and spread to his own thighs. You wiggled fiercely, attempting to get away from him as he continued to lick you. He made sure to leave some of your release behind, even if his lips and chin told another story. 

He set your legs back down on the bed with him still in the middle. He could still see how shiny you were in between. Selfishly, Steve maneuvered to get himself out of his briefs and settle back in the middle. There, he took pleasure in simply viewing himself, strained and practically purple with desire, at level with your wet mound. 

“You’ve been practicing, huh?” He snapped from his dirty thoughts and looked back at your blissed out face. You also had a soft luster on your skin.

Steve chuckled, hands gripping the sides of your hips to massage them. “Not recently. But the USO girls were just as tuned up as I was at the time.”

You grinned wide, “Now that’s something I didn’t know about you. You fuck ‘em?”

Steve reached down to grip the base of his cock, the pressure building and he seriously didn’t want to blow his load before you both took the next step. He willed himself to calm down before he responded. “Yeah, but please don’t go tellin’ everyone.”

“Who knew you were such a slut?” you teased, voice dripping with such intensity that Steve shut his eyes to drown in it. You wrapped your leg around his waist and tipped him over, coming back to rest your hips atop his. Hands sprawled along the expanse of his chest and unclothed heat now rubbing along his bare cock. Steve tipped his head back, a deep groan rising from the middle of his chest as your drenched lips parted to swallow the thickness of his cock. You rocked back and forth, your sensitive clit nudging his tip every so often. You had already come once, and you reveled in the simple fact that this must be torture for Steve. “Tell me, Steve. How do you want me?”

Steve short-circuited. 

“Doll, I want you in every imaginable way,” he whined, bucking his hips. He grinned when his short movement caused you to whimper. “I want you on top of me, doing nothing, as I fuck up into you.”

You let out a ragged gasp, hips moving faster. You were practically dripping along his cock. Steve continued, “I want you underneath me as I fold you in half and your ankles are dangling in the air. I want you on your stomach as I use your hips how I want.”

Your eyes were wide, the blush on your cheeks extending all the way down to your naked chest. This was so surreal. Just last week you switched his special sugar for salt and watched him literally sob and almost throw up as he sipped his morning tea. 

“But I also want you to hold me down and fuck me however you see fit. I want you to steal my control, I don’t want it. I just need you.”

His voice was wrecked, choked whimpers caught in between his syllables and eyelids fluttering slowly. You shot down to kiss him hard, hands tangling in his hair and hips grinding long and slow. You were rewarded with a sticky bead of pre-come from his sensitive slit. You were already milking him and he hadn’t even entered you yet. 

“Y/N, are you sure?”

You detached your lips, forehead now resting on his and your breaths intermingled. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t know what willed him to flip you over so fast, whether it was the serum or his desperate need to sink into your tight warmth, but he succeeded. His gaze was intense, like he was trying to find any hesitation he so didn’t want to find. But there was none. Your eyes were bright and happy, and he had only seen this look a few times. He felt incredibly lucky to experience it now. 

“I’m sorry I lost you,” he spoke without thinking. Because he truly was sorry, he was so fucking sorry. But to have you here, so vulnerable and allowing him to see you so defenseless, he felt like he didn’t deserve it without telling you once again that he was sorry. 

You gave him a toothy smile, cheeks rising and causing the skin by your eyes to crinkle. You guided his head down to plant his lips on yours again. It was innocent enough for the circumstances, just a gentle press with slow movements. 

You pushed him back to meet his eyes. “I probably should have held on tighter.”

He knows the color of your eyes, but never in this lighting. He knows the sweat of your body, but not when it mixes with his. He knows your talkative mouth, but never pink and swollen in a pleasant pout. He knows your voice, but never when it calls out his name while you writhe underneath him. He knows you now, all of you, open and vulnerable for him.

Steve presses one more deep kiss on your lips before positioning himself better in between your legs. He lifts you up slightly, bending your knees and spreading your legs so your feet are planted on the mattress. Then he slowly guides himself into your tight heat. 

It’s incredibly overwhelming for both parties. He hadn’t exactly prepared you with his fingers and his size is a little much. He was thicker than anything you were used to, and the sting left you wanting him to move already and pause to settle for maybe an hour. It’s like he read your mind because he moved even slower as he pushed deeper, head dropping to the curve of your neck, gasping against your skin. You tried to encourage him, rolling your hips and hooking one leg around him. The sting still overpowered any sense of pleasure, so you rolled your hips against his to try and better adjust for yourself. 

He grasped onto the side of your hip tightly, “Doll, if you don’t stop doing that I’m not gonna last.” 

You blushed, slightly embarrassed, “I was just trying to get comfortable quicker.”

Steve groaned and planted a few sweet kisses to your heated neck. “Do you want to stop? I can work you out one more time before we do this?”

You turned your head slightly to kiss across his cheek. “I want you now. I just need to adjust first.”

Steve nodded quickly, pressing in more and pausing to let you roll your hips. He bit his lip harshly, a cracked gasp escaping every so often as you worked yourself on him. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he closed his eyes and just held you. 

He tried not to think of anything else other than you. How you felt, how you smelled, how you sounded. Who you were, who you became, who you will be. He was swallowed in you and he didn’t ever want to leave that abyss. 

A rush of heat settled inside your stomach, maddening and burning with such intensity it was practically speaking to you. “Steve, you can move. I’m ready, please move.”

He’s as deep as he can go and you’re both breathing hard and he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. As far as declarations of love go, this was perhaps the most graceless, but he knew it was sincere and real. Steve felt a moment of unrelenting panic, like he had just accidentally verbally admitted it. But he hadn’t, and selfishly enough, he would keep it to himself for as long as he could until he himself could come to terms with it. 

There are definitely going to be marks on your skin once you’re done here, but you couldn’t care less - not when Steve just let go of his worries and started to thrust in and out of you, deep and slow. He meets you with a long kiss, hips picking up their pace as you match his rhythm. His hands grip your hips tighter, every thrust working deep into you and prying desperate moans for him to savor. 

The drag as he pulls out leaves you lightheaded. And as he pushes back in, it leaves you with a burst of satisfaction at the base of your spine. You can’t even form words as you’re reduced to a stuttering series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’, fully in the moment and fucked stupid. All you could do is push your hips forward and up to meet him halfway, match your moans to his, clench around him to draw out that choked sob from his throat that he tries and fails to contain. You tried your best to ignore the slight pain in the middle of your back, and the sting and stretch down below made sure of it. 

He was stammering around every syllable of your name. Breathy moans followed. 

“Steve, faster, please baby.” Steve stuttered in his movements, eyes squeezed shut as he registered your request. He followed through, however, lifting your hip in one hand and turning you at an angle that made him hit deeper and in a special spot you didn’t know you had. No one had reached it, not even when you played with yourself, and your squeal of delight alerted Steve of his accomplishment. Each pleasurable noise encouraged Steve to maintain whatever rhythm he had going. So he hit it over and over again, working at it hungrily, ignoring his shaking arms and praying the serum could be useful for more than just bullets and super speed. 

“You feel so fucking perfect. So fucking great,” he panted, watching your face as it contorted into a silent scream. You were coming again, hands braced on his biceps as your voice failed to warn him. You clenched and unclenched around him, head thrown far back into the pillow as your chest ripped with the sound it was harbouring. 

You had never come from penetration alone and you bet the fact it was Steve bringing you to climax was definitely a main factor, but it was so damn intense that your legs gave out and simply flopped onto the mattress. Steve stopped hammering into you for a minute, breathing heavily as he allowed you a cooldown. 

“I didn’t feel that coming, I’m sorry,” you laughed, arm coming up to cover your eyes. 

Steve chuckled and removed your arm, “You good?”

You were still seeing white spots and your head was slightly cloudy, but the knowledge that Steve hadn’t yet come fueled you. And the possibility of him coming inside you kickstarted another wave of desire in each of your vertebrae. 

“Yeah, I just have one favor,” you stated honestly, wiggling uncomfortably. “Could you flip me over? In this position, you’re really pushing down on my bruise.”

He moaned shamefully from the greedy thought of having you on your stomach. The angel on one shoulder chastised him, telling him to flip you over for the sake of your comfort. But that little devil, greedy and seeking his finish, told him to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. He compromised. 

He flipped you over and helped you place a pillow just below your hips. He watched as you threw your hair to one side and bent your arms at the elbows. Hands now placed below your head and hips wiggling in front of him, Steve parted your legs and sunk into you again. 

“Yes, fuck, yes…” you mewled, hips raising ever so slightly to drag him in deeper. Steve watched the area where you were connected, wonder clouding his mind as he dipped deeper, deeper, until his hips connected with your bottom. He wasn’t used to this position and he never really thought that he would enjoy it so much. It was like he reached new depths, your pleasure could only come from the way he rolled his hips - yeah, he needed to put you in every position his mind could fathom. 

His jaw went slack as he pulled out and pushed back in, hair sticking to his own forehead and mouth feeling dry and watery at the same time. 

He fucked you in earnest, hoping he could draw out one more orgasm from you. You were putty beneath him, hair now mangled and sticking with the sweat on your neck and back. You were a repetition of ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘fuck please, fuck, please!’, sloppy in all senses. He didn’t slow down because one: he was chasing his finish, and two: you didn’t tell him to. 

You were a whimpering mess, a tiny pool of drool forming beneath your mouth and on the sheets. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to swallow it - you physically couldn’t. 

Steve was growing erratic now as his end neared. He fell over you, none of his weight actually on you as he wrapped one arm under your stomach and the other hand sneaking its way to your clit. His cheek was planted on your back and in that moment, he remembered your growing bruise. So he lifted his face back up and planted several wet kisses over, inbetween, and alongside your shoulder blades. The soft gesture had you tearing up from both adoration and heat. You fisted the sheets underneath you and met Steve’s ruts as best as you could. 

He rubbed quick circles over your clit, relishing in the feeling of your velvet walls pulsating around him. “Come for me, doll.”

You didn’t know if he could hear himself begging, but he repeated that sentence several more times before you spoke. It was like you chose for him. “Come inside me, Steve. Please, please, please!”

That strung-out whine of yours did it. Steve pressed his mouth against your skin with a breathless groan as he spilled into you in long spurts. Simply feeling him coat your walls with what sounded like a painful cry had you coming for the third time tonight. You didn’t have enough energy to vocalize it so just pushed your head into the pillow and prayed you could still walk tomorrow. 

Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he comes down from his high. He enjoys it for a few more seconds before finally snapping back to reality, lifting himself from you and slowly pulling out. He groaned deeply as he watched his spent drip from you and onto the pillow hoisting you up. He wrapped a hand around himself to milk whatever else he had as he watched. 

You two lay beside each other for several minutes, chests heaving and blood settling to its normal speed again. 

You glanced to your left and giggled as you witnessed Steve’s blissed out state, tip of his nose still pink, eyelashes creating such a lovely shadow on his cheeks, cock giving a few spent stutters as the rush of blood found another body part to supply. 

He turned to you as well, a lazy smile greeting you. “We’re good at that.”

This time you laughed loudly, throwing yourself over his chest and hugging him close. He laughed with you and kissed the top of your head as he enjoyed the feeling.

After another couple minutes, you both decided it was time to clean up. He resisted the urge to laugh when you stood up, legs wobbly and chest still trying to catch full breaths. You looked drunk, eyes glossy and hair disorderly. The look suited you, really. 

You thought the same about him. 

Steve swore he was about to crumble when you both returned from the bathroom and you headed for your own bed. It was a betrayal for only a millisecond before you commented on how you were not sleeping in soiled sheets and that he could ‘obviously’ join you in your bed tonight. You kept talking, telling him how you weren’t necessarily a cuddler but you would sacrifice one night for him. But ‘do not be alarmed when you find me on the other side of the bed in the morning!’, and the good ache in his chest swelled once again. 

     Once, in 1935, when Steve was seventeen and too weak to breathe in a lick of clean air, the pneumonia eating away at his lungs and taunting his mother, who was rotating between cold and hot rags; that 1935 sickness was one of the few times he was hopeless. Sure, he pulled through because he’s Steve Rogers. But not being able to breathe really scares a person, and so he didn’t feel hopeless - he was hopeless. His own body betrayed him and made his mother, who nursed him while Bucky worked extra shifts at the dock to help her with groceries, cry like a blubbering newborn - well, Steve was forced to put his faith in God. It’s what his mother would have wanted him to do.

And when he couldn’t reach far enough to grasp Bucky’s trembling hand, when he watched him fall into that icy ravine to his supposed death in 1944, he was hopeless. Completely obliterated from the bottom of his heart, up. 

In 2018, when he lost the ultimate battle and saw half the world disintegrate, and the itchiness spread itself far and wide to all the crevices in his crumbling soul, pouring into crack after crack after crack - there was no need to even label himself hopeless anymore. He hadn’t had hope in anything after he caused the destruction of one of his only true 21st century friendships; not since he dropped that shield at the feet of one friend while he walked away with another. There was no hopelessness - simply less. 

But now, with you in his arms and treading lightly along his second chance, his heart was bursting with the possibility of relearning the definition of hope, craving to feel human again - to feel like Steve Rogers again. Sure, he may still believe his glass is half empty instead of half full, and he was pushing the ideals of that shield far too much down the line, but Steve swore the awe in your eyes was the hope he had lost. 

He couldn’t believe you were the host of it all along. 

So he settled in his new home, in his new hope, praying God would let him have it, and closed his eyes. This Steve, who was asleep for over seventy years and was robbed of the life he was supposed to live. This Steve, who wished he could erase all the lost time filled with stupid tantrums and half-assed apologies and pretend it never happened. No lies about ‘maybe it helped you two grow!’ He had poisoned his happiness years ago and god forbid he would let himself do it again. 

This Steve, who only wanted to protect and be protected. Steve, with all his heart, his mind, and his soul, burning brilliant.

~

A/N: man i know this is long but i literally write the chapters in sections and i don’t realize until I paste them together omgggg xxMoni

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​ 

[itsnsfwalways]

hi i saw u were open for requests so i'd love something with either spencer reid or mgg that's just like absolutely filthy like the harry one you wrote, like degradation humiliation spitting choking literally everything u can think of just go crazy

hi there !! so sorry this took so long, i was trying to get it as best as i could for my first official ask !! also matthew just posted on his instagram story why am i sobbing

69 Kill

warnings: swearing, spitting, choking, humiliation, handcuffs, humiliation, mean dom! mgg, and some intense fucking degradation

Matthew was in the middle of filming 68 Kill, and had been kind enough to bring you with him for the filming process. The two of you spent many nights wandering around town, holding hands while walking down streets full of music and light.

You had, of course, read the script and knew what the movie was about, and how much sex and nudity was involved. Helping him with his lines was something that made your stomach flutter, hardly being able to attempt to dominate him while he sits just a few feet away from you.

However, the day he was filming his sex scene where he was being slapped around and essentially dommed, he came back extremely agitated. He had texted you a few hours ago, saying that everything was fine, but you should’ve known better. He threw his jacket onto the chair by the door as soon as he walked into the hotel room, breath heaving and hair pushed in every direction.

Striding over to you in just two steps, he pins you against the wall next to the bathroom door, wrapping a hand around your throat. His thumb pushes into the side of your throat, the rest of the fingers just being a tight reminder of who you belong to.

Matthew tucks his head down and inhales harshly through his nose, fingers tightening minutely as he exhales, breath hitting your shoulder as he pushes his hips into yours.

“Mm, fuck, I am not in the mood to be nice today. You gonna be my good little slut and do exactly as I say?” He groans, moving his face away so his nose touches yours, hand sliding up your throat to rest near your jawline.

“Y-yes, sir,” you gasp out, swallowing around his hand. Your eyes widen and he chuckles lowly, pulling away to look you up and down.

Dressed only in one of his oversized sweaters and a black g-string thong, you were a dream come true to him.

“This pretty body just for me, yeah? Gonna let me use you as a fucking toy, isn’t that right?” He taunts, hooking his finger against the strap of your thong to snap the elastic against your skin.

“Please,” you beg, pushing your throat harder into his hand, arching your back slightly.

He grinds his hips into yours languidly before tilting your head to the side, growling into your ear, “On the bed, now.”

He releases you and you scramble to obey him, lying down on your back with your hands tucked under you, eyes facing the ceiling.

His hands make quick work of removing his top and shoes, leaving him in only a pair of black jeans and his thick black belt.

He crawls on top of you, pinning you underneath him as he rests his weight on his forearms on either side of your head.

“I don’t remember you asking to wear my sweater, kitten,” he pouts, taking a handful of fabric and pulling it up, exposing your soaked underwear and lower stomach.

“N-No, sir, I just thought-,” he interrupts you before you can finish,

“You thought you could pull a fast one on me, huh? Knowing your dom had to be slapped around all day, thought you’d put him through just a little bit more, isn’t that right, pet?” he spits, slapping your right cheek suddenly, pulling a gasp from your lips as your eyes roll backwards.

Matthew snaps his fingers an inch from your nose, eyes blaring and speaking through gritted teeth when he mutters,

“Eyes. On. Me.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, mouth opening on its own accord.

“I want you to lie here, and take everything I’m about to give you. You’re going to let your owner use his pretty little pussy, and not cum until I tell you to, have I made myself clear?” His eyes bore into you as he demands respect, his entire demeanor making your brain go fuzzy.

“Green, sir,” is the only thing you’re able to say, breath stuttering already as he laughs out loud, shaking his head back and forth.

“My dumb baby can’t even think and I haven’t even started playing with you yet,” he fake-sympathizes, stroking your cheekbone with the back of his hand.

“Please,” you whine, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

“Aww, puppy,” he laughs, pulling his sweater above your head quickly before ripping your arms out from underneath you, pinning them to the headboard. He spits out, “Stay here,” before leaning up from you, tearing off his belt with a loud snap that goes straight to your core.

He smirks down at you as he starts making a pair of homemade handcuffs, sliding them around your wrists before tightening them. Your fingers grip the edge of the mattress and he grins, beginning to grind into you once more.

“Your hands leave this position and I’ll make you wish you had listened, do you understand?” He growls into your ear, pushing his bulge directly over your slit.

“Yes, Sir, God, please do something,” you cry out, watching as he rolls his eyes at you. His hands immediately go to grip your waist tightly, fingertips squeezing hard enough to leave small bruises in their wake.

Matthew finally takes mercy on you, hands going to pinch at both your nipples as he presses his lips to yours, licking deeply into your mouth almost immediately.

You moan into his throat and tilt your jaw up, tongue dancing with his as he takes the lead.

His right hand goes to hold your head up as the kiss gets more and more heated, his teeth clashing into yours as spit starts to drip down your chin, the two of you breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

He pulls away for a second to spit harshly onto your tongue, hand moving down to wrap around your neck as he mutters, “swallow,” watching you closely as your throat pushes into his hands, a harsh breath escaping him at this.

“God, I fucking own you,” he groans, teeth pulling your bottom lip into his mouth only to let it snap back against your teeth.

Pulling his left hand away from where it was massaging your tit, he snaps it quickly to strike you across the chest harshly, humming as you cry out.

“How does it make you feel, knowing you’re the only one who gets me like this, huh? Everyone else gets to watch me be smacked around when really, my perfect little girl gets off on being thrown around, isn’t that right, princess?” Matthew asks, sliding a hand to angle your hips better against his. Your leg hooks around his back, the constant attention to your clit from his zipper making you moan deeply, head tilting backwards as you bite your lip harshly.

“God, so good, Sir.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head from side to side as he moves his hand from your thigh to feel you through your underwear. You knew the material was soaked through by now, the thought of this making you blush.

He rips the thong down your legs, throwing it behind him as he traces his middle finger up your folds slowly, catching as much of your wetness as possible before bringing it up to rest an inch from your faces.

“But you’re not a good girl, no, you’re just a dumb little whore who wants to get fucked. Use your words,” he spits, looking at his glistening finger in the sunlight.

“I’m a useless whore that’s only good for being fucked, sir, please use me, hurt me, fuck,” you choke out, tears falling from your eyes.

He sticks his tongue out and licks his finger clean, making direct eye contact as he sucks his finger into his mouth, pulling it out with a pop.

“Why don’t you come sit on my face,” he hums, flipping the two of you so you now sit on his lap.

“More like 69 Kill, eh, Chip?” you emphasize, looking to push his buttons a little farther.

A hand immediately comes up to your throat and throws you onto your back, all the air escaping from your lungs as Matthew spits onto your cheek.

He licks the wad off of you, tongue dragging up your face while he places more pressure on your throat.

“What... the fuck did you just call me?” He growls, veins in his neck twitching as he looks down at you, red hot anger coming from his eyes.

This look was what you needed to see from him.

He doesn’t give you the chance to speak, gritting out from clenched tweets, “On. Your. Knees.”

Your legs move on their own accord to the side of the bed, hands kept bound in your lap.

A massive head rush comes to you as Matthew tilts your chin up, smiling at the glossy eyed look you’re giving him.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, not being able to control himself from how pretty you look.

You give him a big grin before sticking your tongue out, opening your mouth for him.

He looks at you for a minute before slapping you across the face, pulling a gasp from you as your head turns to the side. The strike sends a live of heat down your body and you clench your thighs together at the sensation.

Matthew unbuttons his pants slowly, your eyes watching his every movement.

He scoffs, shaking his head muttering, “NOW you wanna be a good girl.”

His hard-on slaps him in the stomach as he pulls his briefs down, kicking them off to the side.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his long, thick cock red from the lack of attention. You look up at him for permission before licking a long stripe from base to tip, following a vein with your tongue on the underside of his cock.

He sighs in appreciation as you wrap your lips around the tip, tongue going down to lick at the bottom of the head, smiling to yourself when you feel him twitch.

You open your mouth up for him and give him the okay to start fucking your throat, tucking your thumb under your fingers and squeezing to help your gag reflex.

Matthew’s hands find their way into your hair, using your head as his own sex doll, thrusting steadily and hitting the back of your throat everytime. He leans his head back and groans, the guttural sound sending shivers down your spine.

Pulling your head off of him, he gives you a small break to catch your breath, admiring the way your face is already covered in spit.

“Who’s pretty whore are you?” He coos, wiping a tear with his thumb.

“I’m your whore, I’m your filthy slut, Sir,” you gasp, hands clenching into fists in your lap.

“And what the fuck is my name?” Matthew spits, muffling your answer by thrusting his cock back into your mouth, holding your nose to his stomach for a few moments before pulling you back by your hair.

“Sorry, couldn’t catch that, pet. What is my name?” He whispers, tugging your hair back so you make eye contact with him.

“Sir,” you choke out, spit drooling down your chin.

Matthew squeezes your cheeks together and leans forward to spit down your throat, holding your mouth and nose closed before muttering out,

“Swallow.”

You do so immediately, looking up at him with watering eyes before he releases you, opening your mouth to check.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, pushing his cock back into your mouth. You gag slightly around him, trying to pull for a second, but Matthew just pushes you farther back down, ignoring your whine of protest.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t want this. You deserve to be punished, nasty girl,” he scoffs, tapping your cheeks with his fingers. You hollow your cheeks in response and he sucks in a sharp breath, moaning lowly, “Mmm, just like that.”

He allows you to take control, slurping up and down his cock while tracing patterns with your tongue. Eventually, he pulls you off, wiping your face with a face rag.

“Such a messy little thing. Get up on the bed, face down, ass up,” he demands, pulling you up by your arm.

Stumbling to comply with his directions, you slide yourself up onto your forearm, tucking your head down as you arch your ass back, exposing your dripping core to Matthew.

He takes a moment to look at your shaking body, all splayed out from him, miles of bare skin for him to explore. Unable to help himself, he slaps your ass with both his hands, forcing your chest deeper into the mattress as you groan.

“That feels good, huh, princess?” He asks, sneaking his thumb down to rub at your clit.

“Fuck, yes,” you choke out, biting your lip as he slides a finger inside of you, curling it towards himself before pulling it all the way out and joining it with another.

“So tight for me,” he groans, pressing his two fingers deep inside you, finding that extra fleshy spot with ease and digging into it, pulling moans out of you that you didn’t know were possible.

“I’m not gonna last, Sir,” you cry, legs shaking as you fight off your creeping orgasm, stomach tightening as your pussy begins to flutter around his fingers.

“You can and you will,” Is all you hear before a hand pushes your head deeper into the mattress, feeling his fingers start to go faster.

“Sir!” Your eyes roll backwards into your head as you feel his thumb speed up around your clit.

Strangled gasps and moans are all that come from you as your whole body begins to quiver, toes curled under and hips jerking as Matthew spits on your heat, tears falling down as you scream in desperation.

“Cum,” Matthew grunts, pulling his fingers out and replacing it with his cock in one smooth thrust, beginning to fuck you quickly automatically as you writhe underneath him.

You sob into the pillow in relief as you cum HARD on him, walls tightening as your clit vibrates underneath him, your hole swallowing him as he thrusts faster and faster.

“Fuck,” Matthew drawls out, slapping your ass once and breathily laughing at your moan. “Keep coming, baby. You’re such a good little cockslut. God, you feel so fucking tight around me.”

One hand grips your hips as he moves to put his weight on you, reaching around with his hand to lift your throat up to look at him.

“Oh, baby, doesn’t that feel so good,” he moans, rolling his hips steadily into yours.

You blank out for a sec, tongue falling out of your mouth in response, allowing him to let his spit fall into your mouth, closing your eyes happily.

A slap to the face wakes you up, immediately whining at the new pressure on your stomach.

“Where are you, puppy? Can’t take me, is that it?” He taunts in your ear, biting the lobe harshly.

“N-No, I can, Sir. Fuck,” your voice cracks and Matthew’s hips stutter at the high-pitched whine that accompanies your shaking hips.

“You gonna come again on my cock, pretty girl?” He coos, wrapping you up entirely in his arms as he fucks into you at a brutal pace, matching the speed with his thumb on your clit.

“Yes, Sir,” you choke out, turning your head to look at him.

His hair flops in front of his face, sweat pinning some to his forehead. His swollen lips are bright red and shiny, not to mention his eyes looking at you as if you were straight out of a fairytale.

“Come, sweet girl. Come right fucking now on my cock, I want to feel you pulsing around me, mm, just like that,” Matthew moans into your ear, watching as you immediately come undone at his words, screaming with what air you have left as your body feels like it’s been shocked with how strong your orgasm is. Each of your nerves feel like lightening as you cum, hips stuttering in his hand. You feel him twitch inside you and groan deeply, feeling completely owned from head to toe.

“Good girl,” he draws out, slowing his pace down as the two of you ride out your orgasms.

Pulling out of you gently, he shushes you’re whine of protest and immediately turns you over, removing your wrists from the make shift handcuffs.

“Sorry, baby, these are a little red,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling your limp body into his chest, holding you close to him so your head falls onto his chest as you try and come back to life. Opening your mouth up slightly, you look up at him and he absolutely melts under you, placing his thumb inside your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N, always make me feel so good. I love you so much, little one. Wanna come back and give me a kiss?” Matthew takes his time stroking your back with one hand and your cheekbone with the other.

You hum slightly around his digit and he feels you bite him lightly, making him scrunch his nose up and let out a quiet, “Hey!”

You let Matthew’s thumb fall from your mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, trying to snuggle your face deeper into his neck.

“Hi, pretty baby. You feeling okay?” He asks with nothing but kindness and a need to care for you behind his voice.

You nod along his shoulder and take a deep breath in, shakily exhaling.

He waits for you to pull away from the hug before taking your face in his hands and examining you properly, making sure he didn’t go to rough. Finding you sleepily blitzed out and satiated fills his body with ease, allowing him to kiss your bitten lips softly.

“Tired,” you sigh, tracing his cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah, I know; sweet girl. We gotta go pee and then can go in the bath,” he gasps, smiling widely to make you giggle in his lap. “Does that sound okay, puppy?”

You smile to yourself at the pet name, feeling warm and fuzzy as you nod, letting him pick you up and place you on the toilet while he begins to draw the bath.

He helps you step into the bath before settling himself behind you, allowing the two of you to relax before he begins washing your hair.

He holds his hand above your forehead to make sure the water doesn’t get in your eyes, a gesture so small but so meaningful that it brings tears to your eyes.

Matthew notices this right away, stopping scrubbing the shampoo in your hair to tilt your jaw at him, smiling at your soft face.

“What’s going on?” He sweetly asks, rubbing your back slowly as his eyes scan you up and down, brain going a million miles an hour to make sure you’re okay. You shake your head and sniffle, pushing your air out to say,

“Just love you a lot.”

Matthew swallows deeply and feels his heart clench a little. The overwhelming feeling of being able to take care of you while being the one breaking you down takes over him and he kisses your forehead, leaving his lips there for a while.

“Love you so much, angel. How was that for you? You were so so perfect, Y/N,” He rushes out.

You smile at his sneaky way of getting you to keep talking and treating you like a flower at the same time. “So good, baby. Make me feel like a queen.”

“Good,” Matthew says, kissing your shoulder before continuing washing your hair and your body, rubbing you down softly with a damp cloth.

He brushes the cloth lightly over your pussy, legs twitching in oversensitivity. You suck in air harshly, looking at his eyes as he leans in, just wiping you down fully before removing the towel.

“Too much,” you sigh, shaking your head at him.

“Mkay, my queen,” he teases, and you smile, tilting your head down to hide your blush.

He helps you out of the bath, into pajamas, and back into bed, slotting himself behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Thank you for that, my love,” Matthew sighs, tracing circles on your arm.

“Of course, baby. Always happy to be your little bitch,” you nonchalantly say, grinning to yourself when his hips thrust against you minutely.

“Naughty girl,” he tuts, biting your ear quickly.

PHEW ! is anyone else sweating or is that just me. anyways, i hope that works !! asks are open and i’d love prompts, it might take me a bit to get to them but i promise it’ll be worth it. - lana

[hanaasbananas]

Aftermath

Set immediately after let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke

AO3

She doesn’t move for hours.

Head resting on Adrien’s chest, she feels his blood seep into her hair, feels his body go slack, the arm around her shoulders loosening and falling away, feels him go cold beneath her fingertips.

Still, she does not get up.

Thunder rumbles above them, lightning flashing in the distance as the sky darkens, clouds growing heavy with rain before releasing a torrential downpour, soaking her in seconds.

And still, she does not get up.

But as the rain pounds down, Marinette lets herself cry once more, the storm hiding her tears and drowning out her screams.

***

A hand lands on her shoulder, squeezing gently when she flinches. “Sweetheart…”

Papa.

Of course. She’d dropped her transformation in the middle of an akuma battle. Of course he would have found out. Everyone must have found out.

She can’t bring herself to care.

“I can’t let go,” Marinette speaks for the first time in what feels like eternity, her throat hoarse from crying.

“You must,” Papa’s voice is gentle. “the cure, you need to cast it, set things to rights.”

Set things to rights. She almost laughs. As if anything could ever be right again.

“It won’t bring him back.”

A pause. “No, it won’t.”

“Then what's the point?”

***

Marinette doesn’t remember casting the cure.

She doesn’t remember being pulled to her feet and being carried to the car, or arriving home, where maman waits for her.

“Oh,” she breathes when she sees her, rushing forward and folding her into her arms. Marinette’s arms remain rigid by her side, but her legs crumple beneath her, and maman follows her to the ground,

Marinette doesn’t come back to herself until she’s in the bathtub, letting maman wash her clean.

“He was my soulmate,” she whispers, watching as the blood—Adrien’s blood— is sluiced from her skin. Maman inhales sharply beside her, pausing with the washcloth still in her hand. “He should have let it hit me.” Looking up, she meets mamans stricken gaze with her own.

“Why didn’t he let it hit me?”

***

The funeral is on a Friday.

Marinette sits at the back of the church, her face scrubbed clean, covered with a veil so that she won’t be recognised.

Félix gives her only the barest nod in acknowledgement. He doesn’t try to speak to her, and for that, she is glad.

After the burial, when the mourners have gone and the cemetery sits empty, she makes her way to his grave, sitting cross legged beside it.

“You know,” she says “I always knew we wouldn’t have a happy ending. Call me a pessimist but even so…” she swallows, reaching out to trace the words on his headstone. “I never imagined it would end like this.”

***

Time passes. Seasons change, autumn giving way to winter, melting into spring.

Her grief does not fade.

It is not a pretty thing, this grief of hers. It is not simple or elegant or something that she can hide. It is guttural and ugly, clinging to her, crawling over her skin and seeping deep into her bones.

She lies awake, night after night, tears soaking her pillow like summer rain. On some nights, when the pain is too much to bear, a heavy stone crushing her beneath its weight, Marinette wishes that she could simply reach into her chest and rip the beating heart out from within, feel it pulsing in her hand, blood dripping from her fingers and coating her arm. She wishes that she could take a knife and slice away the parts of her heart that ache and grieve for Adrien until the pain is gone.

She imagines that if she did, there would be nothing left of her heart at all.

***

A letter arrives for her on Adrien’s birthday.

There is no return address, and she doesn’t recognise the handwriting on the envelope. She does recognise the ring that falls out of it though.

Adrien’s ring. His miraculous.

Fingers closing around the ring, Marinette feels it cutting into her palm as she reads the enclosed note.

Father believes that you have this. I figured I may as well make that the truth.

Félix

She has both now.

The ladybug and the black cat. Heart beating rapidly in her chest, Marinette looks down at the ring, her mind racing at all the possibilities, the power she now holds.

She could do it. Make the wish. Bring him back.

But what would the cost be?

If it was her life, she would gladly give it. Even if she was granted only a few short moments to see him again.

But Marinette has wielded her own miraculous long enough to know that magic is a fickle thing, unpredictable and unconstrained by the laws of man.

No. The risk is too great; she cannot do it.

Legs bucking underneath her, Marinette sinks to the ground, clutching Adrien’s ring in her hand, and she weeps, her heart breaking anew.

***

Marinette isn’t sure what possesses her to go back to the apartment.

Masochism, she supposes. Maybe, it is because already, she struggles to recall the exact shade of Adrien’s eyes, the texture of his hair between her fingertips.

Whatever the reason, she stands now, in the doorway, surveying the place, a lump forming in her throat. Everything is as they left it. Her shawl is draped over the back of the couch; one of Adriens ties lies crumpled on the living room table beside an empty mug and a newspaper. If not for the fine layer of dust covering every surface she’d think they’d been here only hours before.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb anything, Marinette steps inside gingerly, wincing as the door slams shut behind her.

The apartment is thick with ghosts of the past, memories of all that they did here. She can almost hear their laughter, hear the music they’d dance to; can almost see the two of them pushing the sofa and table to the edges of the room to make space for dancing.

Sitting down heavily on the sofa, she surveys the room once more. Memories are important, she knows. God knows, she’s held onto them as tightly as she can, cherishing every new recollection, as though it is the most precious treasure.

But everytime she remembers something new, everytime she sifts through her memories, going over their time together like a film reel, Marinette wishes that Adrien would come to her instead.

***

“Marinette,” the whisper comes late at night, rousing her from a restless sleep. It’s not unusual to hear his voice—she’s dreamt of that smooth cadence a thousand times before, over and over, but always—absolutely without fail—the illusion falls silent, dissipating the second that she opens her eyes, leaving her cold and alone.

This time however, feels strange. Different.

Lying motionless, Marinette hardly dares to breathe, hands trembling at her sides as she strains her ears in the silence, hoping, praying for his voice to come again.

It isn’t real, she knows, but she craves it nonetheless.

“Marinette,” his breath ghosts over her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. “This is real.” His voice is laced with amusement “open your eyes.”

“No,” she says stubbornly. And then, more plaintively: “I don’t want you to disappear.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Hands, smooth and strong, reach to touch her. They stroke her face gently, reassuringly, turning her face to the side. Cold lips brush against her closed eyelids and she shudders, exhaling shakily.

Maybe it is real. Maybe...

Opening her eyes, Marinette blinks in the darkness, a small gasp escaping her lips at the sight in front of her.

For a long moment, she can do nothing but gaze at him, drinking in his features. He’s still beautiful; as beautiful as she remembered. Regarding her steadily, the entrancing depth of his dark, luminous green eyes and the ethereal glow of his hair in the moonlight filtering through her window makes sets her heart racing.

He says nothing, simply smiles at her and her breathing quickens. Oh, his smile! How she had missed his smile; it was like the sun. It warmed her like nothing else. Looking at him, it feels like she is finally seeing in colour again—shades of gold, yellow, and green all blooming before her.

Sitting up on her knees, tears spill from her eyes as he reaches out to cup a hand against her cheek. She covers her hand over his, pressing it harder against her cheek until she feels a dull pain from the pressure-a welcome pain, telling her that he is here, that she can feel his touch once more.

“Hello, doll.”

Something in her breaks—a dam bursting in her chest at the endearment.

Her sobs are violent, and Adrien pulls her towards him, into his arms, but she resists, refusing to let him out of her sight for even one second. Despite the fact that fat, hot tears are blurring her vision, she keeps her eyes locked on his, as if he might disappear forever as soon as she blinks.

Still smiling, Adrien runs his hand along her shoulder, consoling her.

“You will be alright, my love.”

“I won-I won’t,” she blubbers “you do-you don’t understand, Adrien. I can’t do this. Not without you. I can’t.”

Sniffling as he wipes her tears away with his thumb, she leans into his touch, letting herself feel his warmth. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she says softly “to live without a heart.”

At this, he finally frowns. “But you do have a heart.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Not anymore. Not without you.”

“You still have me.” the low, calm timbre of his voice soothes her and she watches as he places a hand over her heart. “I live on, in here. You’ll carry me with you always, Marinette.”

Sliding his hand to the back of her neck, he pulls her towards him, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead; his lips lingering for a moment in an all too familiar gesture.

In his face, she sees tenderness in every line, something kind and warm in his expression. There is an insurmountable sorrow too, the edges of his lips curling in a sad smile, and she knows what he is going to say to her, knows now why he has visited her this night.

“But you have to let me go.”

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Hello! Can I request hcs for your top 5 favorite characters when they find out their fem s/o vapes/smokes? Have a nice day~💕

I loved writing these ngl. Also I did six because I have no idea how to choose between these guys. 

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

Warnings: smoking&vaping, overdramatic teenage boys (leona isn’t a teenager, does malleus count?)

Leona:

He didn’t peg you to be that kind of person, but there was no doubt that you were vaping

He had smelled the weed on you a few times but didn’t comment. It was common for there to be clouds of vape in the bathrooms at school so he figured you had just walked through one

At first he wouldn’t comment, but he would watch you do it and keep track of how many times you took a hit and how frequently you pulled your pen out during the day

If he felt like there was nothing serious to worry about then he might let it fly a few times only commenting on how he hated the smell to try and persuade you to do it less often

If he was concerned about the amount of vaping you did, he would probably just steal all your stuff at first to see if you would stop

If that didn’t work then he would confront you about it asking why you started and how long you’ve been doing it

It’s unlikely that he’ll be super upset about it but he will ask you to stop and provide you with other solutions if needed

He prefers the you that isn’t higher than the clouds

After learning more about vaping and the fact that by inhaling toxic metals you could potentially die then he would put up more of a fight

If it got to the point where he was really concerned he might take you to a rehab center just so they could get you to stop (even if you weren’t addicted)

Ruggie:

Wait what?! You smoke!!!

He stares in shock as you pull the cigarette away from your mouth and blow out a large puff of smoke

No no no no no no no no!!!!!!!!!

Already running up to you and snatching the cigarette out of your hands

“Ruggie!”

Absolutely not. He’s seen enough people in the slums turn to smoking or that might even be the reason they were in the slums to begin with. 

He knows the cost. He has seen people die, or get violently sick, or run out of money because they smoke

It is not something he’s gonna watch you go through

Probably gonna yell at you about how awful this is for you before finding all your cigarettes and soaking them before chopping them into little pieces and throwing them away

He’s got a great sense of smell so if he smells nicotine on you again he would get really upset

Ruggie cares about you a lot but would still most definitely threaten you to get you to stop

If he threatens to end your relationship to that means he’s certainly worried about your health

He doesn’t care how you started in the first place he justs wants you to stop

Would totally beg Leona to pay for rehab

Would also totally drag you there

Floyd:

Eh? What’s little shrimpy doing?

Has zero clue what a vape is or how it works, but it looks fun let him try it too

You’re probably hesitant cause he doesn’t know what it is and if Azul and Jade found out they might get mad

He’s gonna try it anyways

Literally has no idea how to use it and probably ends up inhaling his own spit instead

He wants to know how you make clouds with your breath though, and oh! You can make it into shapes!

Definitely gonna ask Azul and his big brother about it

They casually explain what vaping is and what it does. They also tell him that it’s bad for you and he shouldn’t try it

“Huh? But little shrimpy does it all the time?”

Que a further explanation and advice on how to help you stop

He’s gonna pest you about it all the time now

“You didn’t swallow any clouds again today did you?”

“No Floyd I didn’t swallow any clouds”

It’s very easy for him to get you to stop since he’ll just squeeze you everytime he catches you doing it

And when he finds your pen he will pick it up and throw it away

Has he seen your vape? Of course not. Why would Floyd know where your cloud machine went?

Every time you get sick he accuses you of vaping too much

“You wouldn’t be stuck in bed all day if you hadn’t swallowed so many clouds, shrimpy.”

Kalim:

Immediate panic

“JAMIL!!!!!”

Literally Jamil does not have time for this

Tells him to calm down and just ask you about it

Ok yeah. Kalim can do that. He’s calm

He’s not calm

Forgets to ask you about it and instead asks if you wanna go for a ride

Legit takes you to a rehab center and cries at the front desk about you for like 40 min

The people ask you a few questions and determine that no you’re not addicted and tell Kalim that everything is gonna be fine

You are literally so confused right now

When you guys get home he can’t stop asking questions and telling you that it’s bad to smoke

Will bribe you to get you to stop

“I’ll buy you whatever you want just don’t do that”

Literally 100x more panicked than any other normal person

“BUT WHAT IF YOU DIE!!!!!!”

Doesn’t want to leave your side in case you do it again when he’s not looking

Jamil is 200% done with the dramatics

“Listen if you don’t stop I’ll actually poison your food. I have a hard enough time dealing with Kalim when he isn’t freaking out.”

Between the two of them it would just be easier to stop

Kalim will throw you a party for stopping

He’s so proud of you

“Baby you make me so proud!”

“Kalim she’s not your daughter *sigh*” - Jamil

“WHAT IF OUR DAUGHTER SMOKES!!!”

Hold up since when did he decide that-

Never mind 

Kalim is just a big drama baby and you love him for it

Idia:

Probably doesn’t really know what to think about it

On one hand you’re old enough to make your own decisions

On the other hand your decision making skills are obviously not great

Literally spend the next month trying to decide what to do about it

Makes a pros and cons visual board for confronting you about it

Also writes up a list of reactions to his confrontation

Probably also writes up like 17 different scripts all in a choose your own ending type format to include how to deal with every reaction

Ngl he panics a lot cause he knows that vaping is bad but after finding out you do it he can’t stop watching these really concerning youtube videos about how people’s lives turned into a total complete disaster because of vaping

He becomes a nervous wreck every time you smell like weed

Always has you count to ten when he sees you

Likely has visions of you in the hospital or homeless on the street wheezing about how you wished someone had stopped you 

Either you’re gonna catch on and ask him about it, initiating the conversation or he’s gonna have Ortho do it

He’s worried you will leave him for not being supportive

Literally asks you if you’re gonna leave him for this

Obviously you won’t so when you confirm that you’re staying he melts into a puddle and just cries

Highkey he looks more like one of those crazy people from the videos than you

“But Idia you’re addicted to video games and sugar. People say that’s as bad as cocaine”

Figures out that sugar releases the same chemical in your brain as cocaine

“What if you just ate a bunch of candy with me instead? We can be sugar addicts together.” (Idia I’d love to but no amount of candy is worth a break out)

Fine fine fine you’ll stop (but only cause he literally looks like he’s having withdrawals just from worrying about you) it’s ironic

Malleus:

Most dramatic by far

WHY WOULD A FRAGILE HUMAN PURPOSELY PUT THEIR HEALTH AT RISK

Ngl has zero clue what’s going on until Lilia points it out

“Huh doesn’t smoking kill humans?”

*blink* *blink*

Smoking does what to a human

“DARLING!!!!”

Seriously thinks that your going to die any minute now

Que the mental breakdown

Calls all the best healers and puts you on bed rest

“Darling I know we’re gonna get through this. Just keep fighting”

Ummm… you have no idea what’s happening

He just kidnapped you from class and put you in a Diasomnia room and started weeping like you were dying

Lowkey he already started looking at ways to preserve your body as long as possible

Also looks at coffins and tombstones

Highkey plans to buy you a large plot of land that looks over the pretty stuff in the valley of thorns

Why? you ask.

Because obviously you deserve a whole cemetery to yourself

“Malleus I’m not gonna-”

“Shhh don’t speak. You’ll only make it harder to heal”

Lilia walks in and finds this

Probably thinks this is super sweet and totally wants to leave you guys like this

But doesn’t want Malleus to suffer and you to be held on house arrest for no reason

“She’s not dying Malleus”

What? Ooooooohhhh… oops

He gets embarrassed af

Has to call back all the people he hired to prepare for your death

“Um hi there. Turns out I don’t need that jewel encrusted coffin. No no the pyramid should still be built, humans have short life spans.”

“MALLEUS!!!!”

He is so grateful you’re not dying

But would totally get pissed if you decided to smoke again

Guess that’s the end of that

[gaymershigh]

Hi, can u write headcanons of Jamil, Azul, Cater, Rook and Idia discovering that their S/O (male) is their favorite singer/idol in a disguise? Sorry if it sounds too boring

Thanks and I love your blog <3333

It's not boring at all! I love this request so much 💗 the reader has to not be a different world like Yuu so it makes sense in context as to why they're popular in twisted wonderland, just to clear things up!

Also yes, I'm doing other requests before redoing that damned unfinished draft-

Jamil, Azul, Cater, Rook and Idia discovering their boyfriend is a popular idol

You want to tell him so bad but you just don't the guts to.

It's not like you don't trust Jamil or anything. It's just that Kalim's 99% always nearby him and try don't him to overhear your confession and cause a huge hassle.

But sometimes secrets are broken by itself. You can be your own secret breaker.

While you were listening to songs from the Land of Hot Sands that was recommended by Jamil, he was picking random songs from your country.

His eyes slightly widen when one of the songs he picked's singer sounds just like you but with a different name.

“He sounds just like you.” he stated and that made you panicked. That is one of your newer songs from a few weeks ago.

He got curious when your words started getting shaky and your face getting sweaty. This led him to researching your stage name, making you even more scared.

“He even looks like you too, could it be?.. ” if you kept lying, it will go into a dead end. The only thing to do it to spill the beans even if you don't want to.

Your hesitant nod was followed by silence and then a normal 'ok' from your lover like nothing was out of the ordinary. You were shocked.

In the inside however, he was different. He was baffled, these things only happen in fairytails!

He's not complaining though, he loves the feeling of being special.

Even if don't mind, he wouldn't be the type to be brag about your relationship together. Maybe with Kalim but other than that, nah.

“I see. Don't worry, ya amar, I'll keep this a secret. just the two of us only.”

How can you keep this secret away from him for that long? Colour me and him impressed.

Jamil is reasonable as to why he doesn't know about your secret identity because he doesn't keep up with the trends but Azul? He definitely spends more time on the internet than Jamil would ever.

But of course he would find out eventually. Of course, it's Azul.

You were giving him some song recommendations and avoiding your own so it wouldn't raise suspicion.

Unfortunately, you weren't fast enough as he realized you kept skipping a few songs right before the song hits the 3 second mark.

When he asked you why you kept skipping a few songs. You sweated and lied about the singer is not so good. You basically degraded yourself.

If course, it's not easy to fool your boyfriend. He snatched your phone away and looked at the current song you're about to skip.

He covered his mouth in shock. There was no doubt about it, that really is you. The voice, the looks, the stage name sounds like something you would name yourself, everything!

“Darling, why didn't you tell me? Do you not trust me?” You had to reassure him that was not the case and you just prefer not to get the attention and not make anyone annoy him about asking him questions about you.

You're just so special, aren't you? You're an idol beloved by everyone but you don't want the publicity and cause any problems, you're so sweet and precious.

He'll only brag occasionally. It's unprofessional for him to be cocky every single time of the day and he'll probably show off only to intentionally piss off someone.

“Darling, you shouldn't insult yourself! You're very good in singing and you amazingly breathtaking! So handsome.”

Seriously, how did you get away from him, Cater Diamond himself??

He's a social media God and even if he does suspects you several times, he's supposed to catch on sooner.

You have to admit, it was harder to hide away from him since he follows your account. Everytime he takes a selfie with the both of you, a lot of people comment asking him is that (stage name).

He would usually reply 'I wish lol but imagine if that happens 😳'. This makes you nervously laugh.

He always comments about how you always look like (S/N) all the time and you always nervously scratched your neck, feeling guilty.

He also joked about your voice being incredibly similar and how you could be the idol in disguise. My god you couldn't describe how much you want to run out of there as soon and possible.

You thought everything is going smoothly until the most dreadful statement came out of your boyfriend.

“(Y/N), do you want to go to (S/N)'S concert on Friday this week?” You had enough. You can't handle the torturous moments and can't keep up with the lies anymore. You have to tell him with a little twist to it. You said you were busy which means you have to keep denying your cute pouty sweetheart.

When you finally finished your concert, you called your boyfriend from the stage to go to the backstage. You can see the excitement in his eyes.

When you confessed that his statements about his number 1 favorite idol is also his boyfriend he's been dating for months, he went form speechless to hugging you tightly while screaming.

“Holy shit, I can't believe it, (Y/N)! I'm gonna tell everyone!” You sighed in relief as he reached out for his phone.

He's definitely gonna brag no matter what universe he's in. The publicity and increase amount of his followers in magicam is gonna be unbelievable. Just like Azul, he's gonna shove your relationship to everyone's face just to annoy them.

“(Y/N)-chan is so mean hiding such amazing secrets away from me, you're gonna pay the price~”

He's gonna be so surprised as to how you hide from him for more than 3 days. He's got good eyesight and very good at reading your heart.

You're sometimes we're scared that he caught on as he kept praising you like your fanbase would usually do. You never felt so relieved when you found out he's just like that.

He sometimes does comments how you look like your other side and how your voice sounds uncomfortably similar but that's just it.

It's a little bit easier to get away from him when it's about social media since he's not really the type to look to check social media daily.

He kept persistently asking you if that singer he adores so much was you, which you kept replying with of course, no.

But every single time you answered the same reply, your tone and confidence seems to be different, lowering down specifically. He probably already knew you are (S/N) now but he really wants you just give him a 'yes' instead of just believing in his own word.

While you were cuddling with him on his bed and about to fall asleep, you were playing a few songs as white noise to make you go to dreamland faster.

You didn't even realise your song was playing, your eyes were bleary and you could black out any moment.

Rook took the opportunity to asked you again if you were (S/N), he was both surprised and please when he finally got the answer he waited for.

With no hesitance, you said yes before drifting to sleep. He won this time, checkmate.

When you woke up, he told you about what happened last night with the usual smile while you're mouth was agape.

He might unintentionally brag by telling the whole campus how handsome you are, your angelic voice, how lovable and huggable your figure is, Vil is jealous.

“Mon trésor, there is no need to repent about your beauty, you are lovely in any shape of form, my sweet delicate dove~”

He adores your idol version of yourself and is probably the only real idol that he admires, the rest is probably his anime waifus or whatever.

Doesn't mean he doesn't love your backstage form too, he loves you too very much and thinks you're very handsome :)

It's just that your face reminds him of his favorite singer of all time. He's always making conspiracy theories about how you're (S/N)'s clone and you'll just laugh, knowing everything.

He once said that maybe you're an idol in secret, this made you sweat nervously as you shook it off.

Everytime he talks about your idol self to you, Ortho always asks if you're ok or not because you always felt a bit anxious and shaky as if you were about to get killed.

This made Idia raise suspicion. He wanted an answer as to why so he made up a plan.

He makes Ortho note your condition everytime he talks about (S/N).

His suspicions were right, you're always uncomfortable everytime he asks you if you're the idol version of yourself.

If he thinks he has enough tapes and audios of you literally shaking, he started negotiate you.

You had no escape as Ortho has trapped you in his room alone with your boyfriend. He kept taunting you with the same question 'are you (S/N)?' until you finally give in and told the truth.

Even though he got his victory, he still felt bad since you don't wanna talk to him for 3 days, causing him to cry like a baby.

He seriously can't believe it though, he just experienced something out of his mangas! He's beaming with joy.

He's only bragging on the internet only, there is no way he's gonna say anything in real life as you're wayyyy out of his league.

“You could have just told me, you know! I won't tell anyone if you're uncomfortable, I promise!”

You have no idea how much I loved writing this one but I got a creativity burnout when writing Idia lol~

-𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖎

[alchemist-shizun]

You're a system right? I know this may be quite a bit weird but i really don't know what to do. So i? I think i might be a system, but i never interacted with alters or, anything. Is...switching feeling like someone else? I think i might but this feels so weird and i don't know if i'm me or not and this is kinda terrifying. I greatly apologize for the rushed feeling of this ask, but i really don't follow any other systems and i don't how i would even explain this to someone else. I genuinely feel crazy and like i shouldn't be dealing with these things and people, and my ""own"" name feels so. Wrong. Is this...normal

Hi! Yes I am and don’t worry about asking, I know this is a very tricky and confusing topic so I’m glad you decided to reach out.

I wanna make a premise that DID/OSDD system experiences tend to be very unique and different from one another, so when something can apply to you, it may not apply to someone else and vice versa. (Pointing this out cause denial about faking is very very very common) So don’t worry if you don’t relate to everything you search or I say.

About not interacting with alters, I want to also point out that that is normal, I didn’t talk to them before finding out I was a system, I thought they were kintypes actually, so they left small messages on notes that I could answer to and they would answer when they “shifted”. (Still don’t talk that much to some of them) DID/OSDD are disorders that tend to be imperceptible from the external people because it’s kind of like a protective shell, you feel me? And the alters might not talk to you cause they’re kind of “hiding” from you since it “needs to be a secret” both from you and others, they can keep things from you (like memories of trauma/emotional amnesia), it’s all a “we need to not be noticed and blend in” type of deal, which makes it really difficult to diagnose as well unless it’s very obvious. (in fact, alters may act like you in front of others to preserve the secret)

As for switching, this again is something personal to everybody, for example I saw a system who would yawn everytime they switched, other types are very imperceptible where you wouldn’t even know if they switched unless they told you. Now as of feeling, I for example often kinda feel this push and pull feeling in my stomach, as though someone is telling me they want to or are going to take over for me. I might get light headed as well and usually a headache follows. I have to say ever since I realized I was a system, it’s been a little more clear understanding who is around, I kinda feel their presence closer to front until they straight up talk to me. What you described sounds a lot like that one time I really didn’t know who was fronting, it gets really frustrating and I imagine you got scared, cause you’re like “okay who the heck is here? I can’t understand.”

So yeah obviously I can’t be the one to tell you if you’re a system or not, because that’s up to you understanding whether or not you relate, researching and stuff. What I can tell you is kinda my experience when someone else is fronting, they don’t feel me present at all, they tend to say I’m “having a nap” or I’m resting or I’m far in the back, so not really in control. What’s tricky is that we’re all constantly in co-consciousness (i.e. everybody knows what’s happening in front even if they’re not fronting, we don’t have amnesia between switches), so it’s harder to really be sure whether I’m there around or not if I don’t know who’s fronting. In fact, it can happen that you’re co-fronting sometimes, you can be there in control with someone else.

A small note about the co-consciousness, in case you are an OSDD-1b system like me, when someone else is fronting and then I come back, I do remember everything that happened, but it’s more like when you remember something that someone else told you. Like it’s clear that it didn’t happen to me specifically, but to my alter, but I still know exactly what happened. So the memory could affect my alter more than me. 

The name thing does sound accurate, it can be similar to depersonalization where you don’t really feel like it’s you and if you look in the mirror, you’re like “that’s not me?? what”, or I would look at my hands and it starts feeling so very very weird. Alters have different names, ages, looks and pronouns, so if someone were to call me by one of my alters’ names I’d be like “what wait a minute no I’m Purp/Edric”, and on the same way they would say they aren’t Purp/Edric, they don’t feel my physical appearance to be theirs etc. One thing that may help: often alters have different demeanours from the host and their voice tones may change, so in case you start feeling like that again, you can check for these things. For example I have an alter called Logan, his voice is probably the deepest so far between the ones who have fronted, he usually starts looking more serious as well and uses a little bit of a different vocabulary and accent too (look out for the way of speaking and accent as well other than voice tone change, those are other clear signs).

I’m sorry you felt like that but I can assure you you’re not crazy and these things can definitely happen, you’re not alone in this and you can always reach out to people! So I hope this was somewhat insightful and I want to advise a few things only to help with this: do research, look up DID and OSDD-1b or OSDD-1a to see which one you really relate to and then you can try to go deeper and see if they make sense to your experience. (In case they don’t make sense to you, try looking up depersonalization as well, cause what you described does sound like that kind of dissociation. You also can both be a system and deal with depersonalization btw)

I didn’t think I could ever possibly have an identity disorder cause I thought DID was the only one and I didn’t have amnesia at all, but when I found out about OSDD-1b it was kinda like something had clicked and I was like “wait that’s a thing??”. I’m still in denial sometimes but I work through it, so in case you do realize you’re a system, initial hard denial about faking is totally normal, you can come to me in case you need help with that and I will do my best to validate you!

As for the other piece of advice, I’d say to try and just welcome it, if you feel like you might be switching. Don’t be afraid of it, let it happen, I know it sounds easier said than done but if you think about something too much you end up focusing too much on it and it just doesn’t happen, it is also very dangerous to force it, cause forced switches end up in feeling physically sick (like very painful headaches). Take a deep breath, maybe close your eyes a second and just go “okay, I can sit back for a second”. Finding positive triggers is also a good way to tell alters they’re welcome to come out and hang around if they want.

Sorry for the lengthy answer, I have never really given advice about this before so I didn’t want to say the wrong stuff, I’m not used to it ;w;. I hope this helped in any way and in case you have more questions you can hit me up and I will do my best to answer, my DMs are also always open (might take a while cause my phone’s broken currently) and yeah, whatever answer you find, remember you’re always very very valid, okay? Hope you have a fantastic day!

[lovely-ateez]

Superman Jongho~

ꕥPosted: 11/20/20

ꕥGenre: Fluff & Angst (It ends happy I promise)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Superman Jongho

ꕥWord Count: 1.6k

ꕥWarnings: Slight language

ꕥA/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I know I haven’t posted in a hot minute but in all fairness college has been kicking my ass so it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to actually sit down and write. I’ll be posting Ice Cream Pt.3 later this week so look out for that!

“Nice costume, babe.” I giggled as I observed the navy blue tailored suit my boyfriend was wearing.

“Thanks, cutie. Any guesses?”

“Hmm.” I tapped my chin, “Michael Scott?”

“Damn. My James Bond outfit is lacking.”

“Maybe carry around a martini glass?”

“Oh I bet you want me to go around saying ‘shaken not stirred’ too, huh?”

“I mean, if the shoe fits.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, raising a brow.

“I’m quite curious about your costume, actually. Why the change in style?”

Although my skin-tight, light pink dress didn’t align with my usual scary Halloween costumes, I wanted to try something different this year. So why not go as Hello Kitty?

I adjusted the white cat ears on my head, “I do scary stuff every year. I wanted to try something cute for a change.”

“Well, you certainly look it.”

I could feel my face tinting pink.

“Oh shush.”

“We’ve got about five minutes until we need to leave, do you wanna grab a jacket? It’s a bit chilly outside.”

“Hello Kitty doesn’t wear a jacket.”

“Okay but you do, and it’s cold.”

I squinted, wanting to refuse but knowing how easily the cold could make me shiver.

“Fine.”

After quickly grabbing a fluffy, white teddie jacket, I intertwined an arm with Jongho and we left our shared house for the late-night party.

-

Arriving at the party I looked around, surprised at how nice it appeared. Halloween decorations were carefully placed and every person in sight was wearing a different costume.

Jongho left to meet one of his friends, the host of the party, but not before placing a kiss on my cheek. I blushed at the simple action, still getting butterflies even after all this time of dating.

Approaching the punch bowl to get a drink, I quickly caught the eye of a certain pin-up girl. After a moment she turned to me and squealed, running towards me with an impressive speed. I chucked at my best friend’s actions. I was quickly engulfed in a hug I was half convinced would suffocate me if she squeezed any harder.

“Girl! Come ‘ere! How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, Hanna. And you? You seem excited.”

“I am! The party is gorgeous! And guess what?” She lowered her voice, looking around, “I saw him.”

“Oh my god you did not!”

“I did! A man was trying to rob the store I was shopping at earlier this week and I saw him stop the guy!”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally!”

I was surprised to hear a familiar deep laugh by my side, and as I turned I was met with Jongho’s mischievous eyes.

Placing an arm around my waist he spoke, “Are you two still obsessed with Superman?”

“No-”

“YES!”

Jongho tightened his lips into a small smile.

“Listen.” My best friend began, “I just think that he’s admirable, and strong, and his arms just look great-”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” My own questioned.

Hanna waved a hand in the air, “I mean yeah but he knows I think Superman’s cute. I can appreciate an attractive man and still be in love with my boyfriend.”

“Does he think Wonder Woman is cute, too?”

“Yeah well...maybe. But I don’t mind. We’re soulmates and I wouldn’t leave him for anyone. He feels the same.” A dreamy look flashed in her eyes and I couldn’t help but awe at how strongly she clearly felt about him.

Our conversation continued for a while until Hanna noticed the host’s cat trying to drink out of a cup of liquor and quickly ran after him.

We shook our heads in tandem, smiling at her feeble attempt to catch the cat before delighting in the rest of the evening.

-

After the party had come to an end we made our way back home and wandered to our balcony, admiring the beautiful night view.

Jongho tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before placing a few fingers under my chin, lifting it slightly and gently placing his lips on my own.

“I think I’m going to change out of this suit. Care to join me?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to enjoy the night sky for a while.”

He nodded and gave me another quick kiss, heading back inside and leaving me to admire the thousands of shining stars.

I rubbed at my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me. Deciding to change into more comfortable clothes, I took one last look at the stars. In my tired state I misjudged where the edge of our balcony was and leaned a bit too far over the edge, causing me to fall. I could barely let out a scream before I felt warm arms around me. I met eyes with my boyfriend and smiled, so, so relived that I was safe. I opened my mouth to thank him as I noticed that we seemed to be hovering mid-air.

“Holy shit. Jongho what’s happening?”

Jongho swallowed and placed me on the safe ground of the balcony, walking towards me.

“I...”

“You’re...him aren’t you?” I stared in disbelief as he gave a small nod.

“Why did you hide this from me?” His eyes lowered, pain evident in them.

“I-I didn’t want to keep it from you. I was just...afraid.”

I tilted my head, trying to understand. In the year that we had dated, Jongho had never shown fear of anything. Not spiders or snakes, scary movies, heights, the deep ocean, anything. And now apparently he’s Superman, too.

What does he have to fear?

Jongho finally looked at me, tears welling in his eyes. There was a sadness and longing in them that I had never seen before.

“I was scared that I would lose you.” He barely spoke above a whisper.

I fought back the hot tears stinging my eyes.

Did he really think I’d leave him that easily?

“Honey, you could never lose me.” I reached out to caress his cheek and sighed when he unconsciously leaned into my touch. Noticing his own actions, Jongho shook his head and pulled away.

“You don’t understand. It’s not just the possibility of you leaving me for who I am, but the danger that you could be put in if you knew. It was just better that you didn’t know.”

“How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

Even though our words were calm, there was such tangible underlying emotion that we might as well have been screaming.

“As long as possible.”

“Jongho we’re supposed to be a team. How can we be a team when you’re keeping this from me?” I blinked as tears streamed down my face.

I had never seen Jongho cry. The only time he had ever come close was early in our relationship when I was hospitalized for the flu. I couldn’t eat or drink because of how awful I felt. Jongho later confessed that he, for a brief moment, thought he would lose me. Days following my recovery he first told me he loved me. The thought tore my heart everytime I recalled the memory.

And so I thought my eyes were lying to me as I saw Jongho quietly sob.

“I love you. So, so much. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. I can’t—I can’t—lose you.”

I threw my arms around him, clinging to him as if I let go he’d be gone forever.

“You’re so stupid, Jongho Choi. You could never lose me. I love only you.”

“I can’t guarantee that. And besides, are you even sure you still want to be with me? I’m in danger often and I can’t have you chase after me.” My heart broke in two when I heard his voice crack as he spoke his next words, “You could be with a man who would treat you well, one who isn’t putting himself in danger and-”

I pulled back and rested my hands on his face, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“This doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same man I fell in love with. If it makes you feel better, I won’t chase after you. As long as it means I can stay with you.”

He gave me a heart-eyed smile, letting out a small laugh and holding me tight.

“I was so scared you’d leave me.” He confessed.

“Never.”

He lifted a hand up to my check, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize fell down my face.

“Please don’t cry. It hurts me to see you sad.”

“It hurts me to see you being stupid and thinking I’d ever leave you.”

“Touché.”

“God I probably look like a mess.” I cursed myself for not wearing water-proof mascara.

“You always look beautiful to me.”

I shook my head at how cheesy he was suddenly being.

“So...” I began, “You can fly, right?”

Jongho lifted a brow, a crooked smile lighting up his features.

“Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Can I fly with you? I’ve always wanted to fly.”

Without warning he picked me up, letting my legs wrap around his waist.

“Hold on tight, babe.”

We lifted off the ground and my grip around his shoulders tightened unintentionally.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” I smiled at him, “I trust you. It’s just...my first time flying like this.”

Jongho chuckled. “You get used to it.”

“Oh? Is that an invitation for me to fly with you again?”

“If that’s what you want, then of course.”

I chuckled and noticed that he had stopped flying up. We were a decent height from the ground, but not too terribly high.

Jongho nuzzled my neck and leaned his forehead against mine.

“You are the love of my life, darling.”

Smiling back at the handsome man I was fortunate enough to call my own, I kissed him sweetly.

“And you are mine.”

[dordmagazine]

What The F Are Intrusive Thoughts?

Lesson brought to you by the fact that most of us are having intrusive thoughts right now, no one talks about it, it's considered taboo + scary, and tbh the psychology community does a bad job of normalizing this common evolutionary behavior.

What The F Is an Intrusive Thought?

Imagine this, you're going about your day, and suddenly you’re hit with a thought that’s bizarre, shocking, uncomfortable, triggering, or overall anxious. No reason for it, it just pops up. 

Could be the voice in your head saying the worst thing you can imagine is happening 

Could be a gut feeling followed by intense anxiety and thought spirals 

Could be thoughts of doing something shocking and out of character for you (usually sexual, violent, or suicidal)

Could be in terms of a relationship (thinking you’re not good enough, they’re not good enough, suddenly fearful of commitment despite having intense feelings for that person)

Intrusive thoughts are actually perfectly normal. Literally everyone has them, not just those with mental illnesses. Intrusive thoughts don't necessarily mean you have a mental condition you need treatment for. Intrusive thoughts are not messages, red flags, signals or warnings, despite how they feel. Even for my intuitive people, your intrusive thought doesn’t mean the situation is actually going on. It's just a thought with zero meaning behind it.

Intrusive thoughts feel so threatening because anxious thinking takes over, and the thought appears to have some intense power that it actually doesn't have.

Common intrusive thoughts we don't call "intrusive thoughts", but they really are: 

Thinking our partner doesn't want us 

Thinking our partner will leave or is cheating 

Fearing everyone at the office hates us 

Convincing ourselves we'll fail 

Thinking we'll go broke

Being afraid that fictional things will happen (ex being fearful that you’ll live the plot of a book you just read)

For some reason we don't associate this type of anxious thinking with intrusive thoughts, but they're classic intrusive thoughts. Other thoughts include thinking about having sex with someone you'd never sleep with, getting in fights, getting raped or abused.

It’s important to note, if you are having intrusive thoughts of getting raped or abused, or doing the actions, that does not mean you want to rape or abuse or get raped and abused. For people who conduct these behaviors, these are not intrusive thoughts. They don’t think much about them and move on. These thoughts cause great stress for you because they go against your values and you’d never do them.

For Example:

People who have intrusive thoughts about cheating, usually value commitment, relationships, and family.

People who have intrusive thoughts about hurting an animal, love animals and would never harm one intentionally.

People who have intrusive thoughts about their religion, are usually extremely faithful and take their faith seriously.

Intrusive thoughts are intrusive because they go against your values. You are not subconsciously represented by your intrusive thoughts.

The Science

Here’s the facts, we get intrusive thoughts for a few reasons.

First one, our brains get bored and try to entertain themselves. I wish I was kidding. We’re taught the brain is a complex thing, but it’s really a toddler. In fact the part of the brain associated with intrusive thoughts, the Amygdala, is the youngest part of the brain. It’s kinda still learning how to brain. 

When we get bored or over stimulated, the Amygdala comes up with situations, so the body can send up doses of chemicals and hormones. Our brain likes to imagine things, it’s just sometimes daydreams turn into nightmares. 

Most common reason our brain has Intrusive thoughts, is because it’s evolved to keep us safe. So it constantly scans the environment for danger, running through all the possible cases. While doing this, it generates thoughts that you are unaware of. When it hits one that causes you fear, it becomes a conscious thought.

When fear hits the body, within seconds fight or flight turns on and the Amygdala is turned screaming. It wants you to come up with a plan to stay safe if the event ever happened.

Once you do, the screaming stops. If you ignore it, sometimes the screaming gets louder. We see this a lot with patients who have OCD, the thoughts get louder or keep coming back harder when we try to ignore them.

In a way our Amygdala is saying “Can’t you see we’re in danger?”

The problem is there is rarely ever any actual danger. The Amygdala is the brains faulty security system. It’s triggered by wind the next County over.

The brain does this so that you are alerted to the potential threat and can then problem-solve your way out of it. Our brain honestly thinks it's helping us. But as I mention everytime I talk about anxiety, we're not outrunning bears anymore. We don’t need overly sensitive Amygdalas.

That’s why OCD treatment uses exposure therapy designed to reprogram how we perceive thoughts in the mind. Treatment involves pushing yourself to do what scares you and ignoring the need to control everything. Overtime the brain adjusts to your responses and you have less obsessive intrusive thoughts.

Follow Your Gut

I’m a natural intuitive. So for me to follow my intuition I had to make peace with my intrusive thoughts.

Remember, our brain doesn't know the difference between real threats or imaginary ones. The brain thinks "I thought of it, it's real". Think of it like a toddler holding an imaginary tea party. We know the cup is empty, but the kid honestly thinks imagination made tea.

I see a lot with people who are practicing their intuition or learning to trust their gut fall into the trap of feeding their intuitive thoughts. Out of nowhere they get an intrusive thought that their blessing, prayers, or manifestation isn't coming. And they freak out because they think it's divine guidance.

My dears, your intrusive thought isn't divine guidance. It's your bodies glitchy security system. Your gut, the universe, or god, didn't telling you that your person will never love you, that the job isn't coming, or that you'd never get rich or have a family.

The thing with intrusive thoughts is they often keep coming up, which tricks us into thinking that it actually means something or it's divine guidance. But the reason these thoughts come us is because we never told our brains it's not actually a danger or threat.

How To Make Them Stop

First things first, if you have intrusive thoughts find a Therapist who focuses primarily on OCD. Many Therapists claim to have worked with OCD patients but lack the education or experience to support your healing journey. 

The thing with traditional talk therapy is it can usually make OCD and Anxiety worse. If you are seeking out professional help, which I always recommend, find a Therapist who is trained in Exposure & Response Prevention (ERP). If you’re on the edge of deciding to see a therapist, there are incredible patient guided workbooks designed to help stop intrusive thoughts.

Some of our favorites are:

The ACT Workbook for OCD: Mindfulness, Acceptance, and Exposure Skills to Live Well with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder by Marisa T. Mazza PsyD

Brain Based Therapy for OCD: A Workbook for Clinicians and Clients by John B. Arden

Overcoming Unwanted Intrusive Thoughts: A CBT-Based Guide to Getting Over Frightening, Obsessive, or Disturbing Thoughts by Sally M. Winston PsyD and Martin N. Seif PhD

Brain Lock, Twentieth Anniversary Edition: Free Yourself from Obsessive-Compulsive Behavior by Jeffrey M. Schwartz

How To Be There For Someone With Intrusive Thoughts

Intrusive thoughts can effect our relationships in every way. It’s hard to see your loved one go through suffering you can’t understand.

I always explain intrusive thoughts like this:

An intrusive thought is like we watched a documentary on Bigfoot. Before it, I knew Bigfoot wasn’t real and the documentary only assured me that Bigfoot is made up. But every night I’ll be terrified that Bigfoot is outside of my window and will hurt me when I’m sleeping. So I lay awake and plan or sit in fear. Eventually, the fear will bleed into my daytime life and I’ll become scared that Bigfoot is behind me or will hurt my loved ones. And in the documentary it said people used to keep garlic in their pocket to ward off Bigfoot. So I start carrying around garlic and hiding it in my loved ones belongings. This entire time I know Bigfoot isn’t real. I know my behavior is irrational. But my body is still scared. Even if everything inside of me says Bigfoot isn’t real and even if it’s proven by Scientists. I’m still afraid.

If the person you love struggles with intrusive thoughts it helps to view everything from their perspective. You don’t need to feed into the compulsions, in fact you usually shouldn’t.

Someone suffering with Intrusive thoughts or OCD needs the people around them to be compassionate, understanding, and kind. When someone exhibits an obsessive behavior tied to intrusive thoughts ask them, “Is that an intrusive thought?” usually that’s enough to stop them the thought, even temporarily.

Another thing you can do is ask the sufferer to explain to you what they’re feeling and why they think that way. And don’t judge them for it. Simply nod and smile. People who have intrusive thoughts or OCD need to feel like they aren’t broken because of the way their brain is programed.

Remember, all their brain is doing is trying to stay safe. Treatment involves reframing thoughts and reprograming their brain. The goal isn’t to stop our Amygdala from being aware, it’s to make it less sensitive and less afraid.

Our brain needs to alert us of a flood, it doesn’t need to alert us of 5mph wind.

The important thing to remember with intrusive thoughts is to think of your brain like a toddler. It's pointing everything it thinks and sees out, making sure you see it too. All it wants you to do is say, "yes, I know. But that's not important right now." or "I think you're not seeing it correctly, it's actually this."

Having these thoughts are normal and although distressing they say nothing about your character. 

Follow us as we work to end the stigma around mental illness and keep an eye out for our full magazine set to release early January 2021.

Disclaimer: No one at DORD is a medical professional, meaning we provide education from our first hand experience (and our Editor In Chief’s Psychology Degree). If your intrusive thoughts cause you great discomfort, contact a license professional. If you think you're going to hurt yourself or someone else, contact a professional. If you'd like to know how to get in touch with a professional, shoot us a DM and we’ll gladly help connect you with the appropriate resources.

[peterthepark]

NSFW Alphabet

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

A - Aftercare

billy thrives off of aftercare

he loves to just look at you and praise you

his touch never leaves your skin and he isn’t afraid to let you know how good you made him feel

you give billy tons of reassurance afterwards, letting him know that you never felt forced or hurt or uncomfortable

you always remind him that you love him

he needs to hear it a lot from you because he’s scared of losing you

B - Body Part

billy loves your eyes

he enjoys making eye contact with you

after you kiss, during sex, when you’re in his arms

he’s always looking at you

but he also loves your ass

although he’s in awe of everything about your body, he’s an ass man (no matter the shape or size, he loves it)

he likes how soft your ass feels in his hands, and how he can rest his head on it

he also likes to spank it but i mean

C - Cum

billy loves cumming inside you

ever since you started talking birth control, he felt much more comfortable cumming in you rather than on your stomach or face or back

it also excites him

just the thought of his cum inside you

he likes seeing it dribble down from your legs

and especially loves seeing you collect it onto your fingers then licking it

D - Dirty Secret

billy is such a dom

but there are days where he lets you take control

one time you did take control but you also managed to handcuff him to the headboard

and FUCK he liked it

he would never admit it but he liked it

so you’re riding him with tits in his face and he can’t touch you at all - it’s killing him

he ended up breaking through the handcuffs and the headboard

E - Experience

billy is pretty experienced

but being with you has allowed him to explore more of his kinks

anyways

billy knows exactly what he’s doing: where to touch you, how fast to go

F - Favorite Position

billy loves doggystyle

he’s just able to pull you back by your hair or whisper in your ear and he can really feel himself inside you

he gets to spank your ass and cover your back with hickeys

but then again billy also craves eye contact

so he’ll often do missionary as well, and fold you over so that you can feel everything that he’s giving you

G - Goofy

there isn’t that much goofiness or jokes whenever you and billy have sex

but he is VERY playful and teasing

there’s only laughing if one of you says something a little bizarre or knock something over

but teasing

lots of teasing

H - Hair

i think billy is very groomed

despite that big head of hair he’s got, he doesn’t have much down there

maybe just a happy trail :)

I - Intimacy

billy often blurts out that he loves you during sex

he’ll just be pounding into you and then suddenly BOOM i fucking love you

he likes to worship your body as much as possible, letting you know that you’re perfect

he loves hickies - just enjoys seeing them on his chest and on your breasts or your neck

even though he likes to fuck the shit out of you, he does make love to you

super romantic guy despite his rough exterior

J - Jack Off

when you’re not around, billy often has to resort to jacking off when he’s horny

he has this one nude picture of you

it’s a prized possession

and he cums everytime

like he’s trying so hard not to be loud

so he’s grunting and biting down on his fist with one hand while the other is around his dick

fuck me

K - Kink

billy has lots of kinks, they include but are not limited to:

DIRTY TALK

hair pulling and bondage

daddy and choking kink

praise kink for sure

he likes the adrenaline of almost being caught (i forgot what this kink was called oop)

he also likes biting, but to an extent

L - Location

billy will fuck you in the locker room of the pool after hours

just slamming you up against the locker

in the shower at the pool or sometimes at home or in his CAR

“you gonna be quiet for me, babygirl?”

but nothing beats the bedroom

the headboard has broken on many occasions but i mean

M - Motivation

PRAISE

billy loves when you tell him how good it feels

he’ll go much much faster and harder

he’s turned on by the little things

when you bite your lip, when you wear a dress that’s a little too short, or when you pull out some high heels for date night

billy is just easily captivated by anything that you do

N - Nope

billy won’t hit you

yeah, he will spank your ass but that’s totally different

he hates degrading you and your body

and even though he tends to be rough, he hates hearing you in pain

he will stop ANYTIME

O - Oral

he’s a giver

i really believe he is a giver

he could eat you out and finger you for days

“how does my mouth feel, Y/N? good?”

but also billy is needy sometimes

so he doesn’t mind getting a good blowjob from your end

P - Pace

we know billy is fast

his thrusts are so hard and quick and susjsks

he’s rough when you’ll let him

he wants you to cum

and he’ll do anything to get you there

Q - Quickie

lots of quickies

before billy’s shift at the pool, during, after

it happens a lot, especially when he’s angry or stressed and obviously horny

“fuck, you better cum, Y/N. cmon, angel. so close.”

but quickies don’t satisfy him as much as proper sex does

R - Risk

billy loves a good thrill

he’ll risk fucking you in public places, or in your upstairs bedroom while your parents are downstairs

he likes to experiment, as long as you’re comfortable with it as well

one time he did this thing with an ice cube

and shittt

S - Stamina

billy will keep going until you’re sore or you want him to stop

i mean it

this man is determined to make you orgasm more than once

T - Toys

billy doesn’t have any toys, but when he found out that YOU do

oh boy

he started using your vibrator on you and holy fuck he was being a tease

“since when were you keeping this from daddy? bet nothing feels as good my dick, right?”

U - Unfair

billy enjoys teasing you

he’s a sucker for your begging and your pleas

he just wants to hear you moan for him and squirm

V - Volume

when nobody is around, you and billy are LOUD

billy is grunting and moaning your name and fuck he’s so vocal about everything

“fuck, this is everything, Y/N. you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

the bed is creaking and the headboard is probably going to break for the HUNDREDTH TIME

W - Wildcard

billy occasionally facefucks you

it’s one of the dirtiest and messiest things you guys have ever done

saliva is dripping from your mouth and your eyes are watery because he’s huge

and billy just loves the sounds that you’re making - gagging on his cock, moaning his name

then he’ll cum in your mouth

so hot

X - X-ray

billy obviously has a big dick

i mean cmon

he’s thick and long

he has pink undertones and there’s this little vein on the underside of his cock that you love to lick

it sends him over the edge a lot

big dick billy

Y - Yearning

billy has a moderate sex drive

like i said he’s turned on by the little things

so kinda anything remotely sexy that you do will make him horny

he can be such a needy guy sometimes but it’s okay

because he knows how to show you a good fucking time

Z - Zzz

billy surprisingly isn’t that sleepy after sex??

like this man literally just pounded into you at full speed and force yet he’s still awake

but anyways, once you’re freshened up and ready to sleep, he’ll just watch you

not in a creepy way

he just wants to admire the love of his life

your head will be in the crook of his neck and he can’t help but look down at you and study your features

just tracing your skin with his thumb

he loves you okay

[star-light-imagines]

hey, can you write some headcanons for izuku, tenya, and fumikage with a s/o who has really severe adhd? their very intelligent but they have an extremely hard time sitting still and focusing on any task. bonus points if that makes them a really good fighter wuth a strong quirk. thank you!

ADHD Headcanons

Anime/Manga: My Hero Academia

Warnings: None

Enjoy this quirk fest! 💚, 💙,🖤

Ps: I’m still new to this, so thank you for sending in a request and I’m going to give it the best I possibly can!

——————————————————————————

When Izuku first met you he was confused when he saw how you couldn’t stay still very well in class. He noticed how you would tap your feet repeatedly, how you would get distracted by things outside the window easily, how you would eagerly jump out of your seat when class would end. While others thought of this as weird or annoying, he thought it was interesting.

“Y/N, I noticed how everyday you are always moving around during class in some way or form, is it due to your quirk?”

“No I have ADHD, it’s separate from my quirk. However, it does make my quirk stronger than what you would expect. I may get distracted by things around me easily, but all that means is I notice my surroundings more than others, and I can use that to my advantage. Also the fact that I can’t stay still for very long helps me improve my quirk and become stronger. I’m always training because it helps keep me relaxed, but I’m learning to use my ADHD to my advantage in battle situations.”

“Wow! Y/N you have really thought this through and used what you have at your disposal to become a stronger. Is it okay if you give me some tips for my journals, maybe even train with you so I can pick up a few moves?”

“Of course! I would love the company.”

He will stand up for you when others discourage you for having ADHD and trying to be a hero. In fact, if you are training against someone in class when this happens, he will purposely cheer for you super loudly behind them.

“Can Y/N even be a pro hero with how they are always distracted and not paying attention in class?”

“I don’t know I heard Y/N is smart, I mean they get the highest test scores even though they don’t sit still in class.”

“That doesn’t mean Y/N got what it takes to be a pro hero.”

Izuku was sitting behind the two boys murmuring over you as you had stood up to train against kaminari. He was excitedly waiting for you to show them how powerful you really are. “You got this Y/N!” He yelled loudly, so loudly the boys turned around to look at him with disgust.

“If you watch you might learn something.” He said smugly to the boys before pulling out his notebook to take notes for you and how to better improve his own skills.

He knew he liked you after your first conversation after class that one day. However the more time he spends with you the harder he falls. Soon it’s hard for him to not blush when you walk up to him, or for him to not stutter during conversations with you, or even for him to make proper eye contact and because of this you begin to think he doesn’t like you and get anxious.

“Hey Izuku can we talk?” You say walking over to him in the lounge. He was studying the notes he had taken during class but as soon as he looked up and saw you were the one talking he immediately looked back down.

“S-sure what’s up Y/N?” He asked nervously

“I noticed how you haven’t been acting the same around me lately. Do you not want to be friends anymore? Did my ADHD become annoying ?” You ask sadly while looking down at your feet.

“What! No! That’s not it at all, I promise. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Izuku immediately stands up and grabs your hands so that you look at him.

“Then what is it? Why don’t you look at me? Why don’t you want to spend time with me anymore? Damnit Deku! It hurts so much to see you look away from me when I try to talk to you!”

“Y/N I like you..it’s all because I like you and I didn’t know if you would feel the same way or if you would just want to focus on becoming a pro hero and everytime I made eye contact with you I would turn so red you would probably think I had run 5 miles.” He said as tears started to well up in his eyes.

“Izuku... I like you to, you were the first person in the class to accept me and give me strength to continue. You didn’t judge me for my ADHD but instead saw it as one of my strengths. You stand up for me when I’m not around to do it for myself, you help me when I’m struggling, you support me when I’m feeling like giving up. Of course I like you.” I say with tears falling down my cheeks.

When he first met you in class, he was a bit annoyed that you couldn’t sit still and had become a slight distraction for him. However, he was being polite by not saying anything since no one else seemed to mind. Each day he would look towards your seat to see you shaking a knee or tapping your pencil on the desk. He couldn’t concentrate on anything other than you.

He started to notice more than just your repeated movements each day. He noticed how your hair shinned when the sun hit it from the windows, how you would sometimes doodle classmates into your notes, and especially how you would smile with relief when ever you could stand from your seat. He never even talked to you, but you somehow invaded his thoughts.

“Iida! This is Y/N, I thought you two should meet since you haven’t talked yet.” Mono says happily while introducing you two one day during lunch.

“Hello Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Tenya says politely while holding his hand out to shake yours.

“Nice to meet you as well.” You say as you take his hand in yours and in that moment he felt as if he was was shocked by lighting with the electricity he felt from holding your hand.

“I’ve wanted to ask something for awhile now, if you don’t mind?”

“Go ahead, I don’t mind at all.”

“I noticed how you don’t sit very still in class, is there a reason for that?”

“Oh! I have ADHD, it’s a bit hard for me to focus when I’m not moving. I hope it doesn’t bother you.” At this moment it all clicked for Tenya

“Not at all. I will admit that at first it did slightly irritate me but after a few days it became like a routine for me to see you always moving around. It would be weird if I didn’t see it now.”

He knows how strong your quirk is because he has seen you in action multiple times during class and training. He knows how hard you work and how you are able to out maneuver even him most days. You have strong strategic skills as well and can be a strong opponent for anyone in school. However some people don’t realize this when all they see is you being distracted and endlessly moving around during lunch hours, and because of this he won’t hesitate to step in if someone decides to talk behind your back.

“Y/N is so annoying sometimes. Like please sit still for two minutes.”

“I bet Y/N can’t even stay still for 1 minute.” The person says and laughs while watching you from across the cafeteria.

“I don’t know how people put up with that everyday.”

Tenya had heard this conversation on accident while walking past them and immediately stopped in his tracks. He watched as you sat happily with Izuku and Momo and turned to look at the girls who talking bad about you and laughing. He couldn’t let this slide, not when he imagined the look your face if you ever heard what they were saying.

“Excuse me, I overheard your conversation and I would like to let you know that Y/N is the best person I know. Not only can Y/N make some of the top scores in class, but can fight well beyond anyone’s expectations or even skill set for that matter. It shouldn’t matter that Y/N can’t sit still for very long, all that matters is how they are as a person and how willing they are to work towards their goals.”

He didn’t realize his feelings for awhile because he had never liked someone before. You most likely realized your feelings before he did and told him about it and that’s when it clicked for him that that’s what he’s been feelings and what’s been missing from his life.

“Tenya, I have something I need to tell you.” You say quietly in the middle of your movie night one day.

“Oh? Go ahead”

“I like you, I really do. I don’t know how you feel or if you even want to be with me-“ you didn’t get to finish because as soon as he heard the words he realized all he wanted in that moment was to kiss you.

“I guess that means you want me then” you say with a laugh after the kiss.

Fumikage didn’t mind when he noticed how you would shake your legs while sitting in class or how you would click your pen several times whithin minutes. He had seen people with ADHD before and had been good friends with many of them to. However, he did see how others would treat you and made it his mission to become friends with you even though he wasn’t very social.

“Y/N right?” He said while walking up to your desk before class one day.

“Um, yes! Is there something I can do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know it’s okay to have ADHD. Obviously you are strong or else you wouldn’t be in this class and I know you will get even stronger. If you ever need someone to talk to I’ll be here.”

He would be the first person to come to your rescue when someone picks a fight with you or makes fun of you over your ADHD. He would have a hard time holding back his anger, but he definitely would make sure they wouldn’t mess with you again.

“Y/N I can’t fucking stand sitting behind you everyday and watching you tap your feet and move your arms! I can’t focus in class!” Mineta exclaims

“Funny coming from a boy that can’t focus anyway due to his perverted thoughts about every girl on the planet. How about instead of blaming her for your inability to focus you just learn how to control your thoughts. You know what? Just switch seats with me and the next time you fail a test you won’t have Y/N to blame.”

Fumikage obviously cared about you and liked you but he didn’t want to tell you his feelings without knowing where you stood. So when you confessed your feelings one day while walking back to the dorms, he couldn’t have been happier to be able to finally get his own feelings off his chest.

“Fumikage, wait, slow down.” You yelled while running toward him.

“Do you need something Y/N?”

“Yes, I need to tell you how I like you and how I hope you will accept my feelings!”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say those words.” He said before drawing you into a hug.

[crimsonbluemoon]

Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 9/17

LOOK ma I did it! I got it up on Sat! Look at me somehow managing myself. Remember when I used to upload at the same time every week haha where the fuck did that Crim go?? Anyways, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Brock, contrary to popular belief, liked surprises.

He tended to prefer being the one in control of the surprise, like giving Marcel a birthday party he didn’t know about or showing up to Craig’s job with his favorite muffin and coffee (the unicorn frappuccino, because of course). But being the one surprised could always be nice, too. He certainly got a thrill whenever he stepped onto the scale to see the weight he’d lost over the week, a sensation that used to always be tinged with dread or guilt. Now, twenty pounds smaller, Brock enjoyed looking at his progress, and he added it into the pile of surprises that he did enjoy. 

There were some surprises, however, that he didn’t like to think about. So when he opened his twitter to his ex’s ‘single’ status being switched to ‘in a relationship’, the rising feelings that bubbled inside of him were not welcomed. He didn’t give the negative thoughts time to grow before he was snatching the gym clothes off his bed, rushing to the gym. He needed distractions, needed something to shove the feelings down. 

He needed Brian. 

“Stop that.” He tried to keep the smile off his face when he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The free-weight was getting easier to lift as the days went by, but he still needed to focus on his form. Brian had told him that a good work-out could be ruined by not curling his arms properly, and he didn’t want to put his friend’s lesson to waste. The word friend echoed in his mind, the flash of the earlier status change hitting his chest. It wasn’t welcomed, so he took a slow breath, trying not to let his eyes flicker to the face popping up over his shoulder. 

“Nice shirt, muscles.” It was a stupid nickname from Brian, whose arm looked like a cover of health magazine. It was true that Brock had caved to Craig’s pestering and went to get actual work-out clothes, though it took one embarrassing slip of his baggy sweatpants off his hips the week before to agree to it. He’d been thankful that he hadn’t swiped a pair of his older pair of boxers that day, as Nogla and Anthony both confirmed they’d caught more than a peek at what he’d had underneath his waistband. Brian hadn’t been working on the weekend, though he was sure the others told him about the incident. 

“You’re distracting,” he muttered, forcing out another huff of concentrated air when curling the bar down for another rep. 

“You have no right to say that. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Oh, wait...” The snicker and mischievous grin reflected by his shoulder showed that Brian knew he was being stupid. Brock tried not to blush at the flirtatious remark with a roll of his eyes. The gym was empty, Sunday nights never hosting many members. Brian was there to work-out himself, which Brock had known when making the rash decision to go to the gym that night. Though it was nice to have the support from Brian, it could also be...distracting. The flush he’d been avoiding before started to leak out when his eyes dipped to the collarbone uncovered by Brian’s shirt, lips twitching at the exposed skin. The thoughts he’d been trying to keep hidden in their interactions were growing with each day he got to spend with Brian. Brock hated the clash of shame and desire that mixed through the crevices of his ribcage with each smile and kind word Brian showered over him. 

It’s okay. He flirts back with you. This is okay. You are happy. You’re okay. His mind badgered the word into his head, but the mantra felt wrong today.  

“I have two more sets, then I’m all yours to bother.” Brock tried to placate Brian’s need for attention with a shaky smile. The strain of him arms was starting to hurt, but he didn’t want to give in yet. Each time he managed to push harder, he felt another piece of himself fit into place. His eyes closed to try and block out Brian’s distracting image behind him, fingers tightening on the bar to pull it up again. 

“You’ll be all mine, eh?” The murmured tease was probably meant to make Brock laugh, but the hot air that swept to the side of his ear sent a jolt of heat rushing through Brock’s body. Jerking at the sensation, his fingers released the bar in a panic. The pleasure that twisted in his stomach was suddenly doused with pain, his foot screaming. Brock’s eyes shot open when he hissed, his foot yanking out from the weight now crushing it. 

“Shit!” Brock didn’t like to swear in public, but the agony that rushed through his toe was enough for him to forget his manners. Tears rushed to his eyes, and Brock nearly stumbled back to the floor to grab his foot. Instead, he fell back into Brian’s chest, a strong arm quick to wrap around his waist to steady him.

“Brock, you okay?” Concern was nice to hear over teasing, but Brock struggled to focus on the tone with his foot burning like it was. With his teeth clenched, air struggled to get through the gaps when he bore the grimace at the floor. 

“I’m...okay.” Which was a lie, since he was sure he couldn’t put any weight on his foot without pain tearing through his leg. He didn’t want to move his toe, and his stomach twisted when realizing he’d probably sprained it. How long would that keep him out of the gym? Why had he let himself be so clumsy? 

“Yeah, and Nogla’s the queen of Ireland. Scotty, get me some ice packs and meet me in the locker room!” Brian’s voice showed no room for complaints when he barked the order out behind them. 

“I’m not sure I can walk that far right now.” It was embarrassing to admit, but Brock didn’t want to make the injury worse. 

“You’re not gonna.” Brian’s arm moved without hesitation, and it took Brock far too long to realize what Brian’s plan was. Panicked, Brock clutched at Brian’s shoulders and shook his head when feeling a warm forearm brush the back of his thighs.

“Yo-you can’t be serious! You can’t lift me, I’m too-”

“You’re perfect.” The serious edge in Brian’s voice drained the life from Brock’s self-deprecation, eyes looking for a fight when they stared down at Brock. “Whatever was going to come outta your mouth was going to be wrong. You aren’t anything but Brock, you got that? And if you think, for some reason, that I’d have any problem with carrying you…”

Brock’s chest expanded with fear and excitement when his legs were swept off the floor with ease, Brian’s arms barely flexing at the additional weight in his grasp. Brock had looped his hands behind the strong neck to help steady himself, but Brian didn’t look bothered by any of it. His gait was steady, body moving with an ease that wouldn’t be possible if it was under extreme strain. 

The fact that someone to lift him, could carry him, was both terrifying and amazing. Then again, thinking back while Brian moved them into the locker room, he couldn’t come up with a time that any of his exes had tried. None of them looked at Brock and had the desire to try. Brock had been okay with that, because he was always downplaying the romantic parts of his heart that dreamt of being small enough to be carried like that. But he hadn’t lost that much weight, and Brian had swept him up like it was nothing. Maybe it wasn’t a Brock problem, but an ex problem. Maybe they didn’t trust they’d be strong enough to carry him. 

Or maybe he’d never trusted someone not to drop him before Brian. 

“Put your leg up on the bench so I can check out your foot.” He was eased down onto the cold metal with enough room to prop his leg up, and Brock followed the command even as he shook his head.

“You don’t have to, I’m sweaty and my foot will-”

“Brock, I will kiss your foot if you don’t shut up.” Brock’s face finally fell victim to the heat he’d been trying to hide when Brian peered up at him from where he knelt, showing how ready he was to follow through with his threat. 

“Why would you do that?” He mumbled out, eyes too shy to stay on the honest gaze. They dropped to his lap, where twitchy fingers entangled themselves to keep from pushing Brian’s gentle touch on his ankle away. 

“Why does it surprise you that I want to make sure you’re okay?” The question wasn’t accusaroy, but curious as Brian took his time unlacing Brock’s shoe. The slow slide of the shoe and sock filled the silence as Brock’s mind flipped over the question, wondering what answer would be best. 

“Because…” His first intuition was to deny the claim, or to point out times that could pass as allowing help. But there was a caring slide to Brian’s palm against his ankle bone when he kept the foot imobile that showed more consideration than a simple gym buddy should have. A second set of tears hit Brock’s eyes as emotion overwhelmed him, the wave of loneliness crashing hard into his chest. 

For months, he’d been okay. Everytime someone asked, each time he saw his ex’s name pop up on his social media, every time someone brought up a memory of their relationship or a joke that made him think of their happier times, Brock was okay. That was just how Brock operated. When he wasn’t okay, others worried and were sad, which didn’t help anyone. He was healthier now, growing from the break-up and finding himself. Plus, his ex was a jerk. Brock was “better off without him” and “ready to find the right person” now that he’d moved on. His heart was already so warm with feelings that Brian gave him. So he should be okay, better than okay, because Brock was always okay even when he wasn’t okay. That was who he was supposed to be. The put-together friend that could take everything piled on his shoulders with a smile and a gentle shrug of his shoulders. To show he was okay, to let everyone else be okay, because he was okay okay okay-

But he wasn’t. 

“I’m not okay.” The confession was raw in his throat, shoulders hunched forward and eyelids blinking too hard not to show how badly he was trying to keep from crying. The gentle rubbing of Brian’s thumb on his ankle kept him grounded, but he couldn’t look up, fearful of the expression he’d receive. He felt like he was on the treadmill at the highest level, gasping for air that wasn’t ready to show itself. His fingers clutched the fabric of his pants when he closed his eyes, focusing on the circular patterns being drawn on his skin. 

“You don’t have to be. I’ll take care of you either way.” Brian’s voice didn’t sound panicked or dismayed at Brock’s breakdown. Brian somehow knew this wasn’t just about the injury, but he didn’t care. He said something nobody else had before him; Brock didn’t have to be okay. A chord that’d been stretched tight in Brock’s spine snapped as he slumped forward, head bowed down to hide the relief he felt at being given permission to crumble. His back shook from the pain in his foot, which was dwarfed by the agony that burst from his chest. The levy he’d held back with music and weigh-ins broke rapidly, and he drowned in it.  

Scotty said nothing when he came in with the ice pack, thankfully leaving quickly after. Brian kept quiet, only using soft words to let Brock know what he was doing in regards to Brock’s foot. He let Brock fall apart, let him put himself back together, and figure out how to be actually okay. Even when he walked Brock to his car, satisfied that the toe was simply bruised and not sprained, he did so with care. Because Brian did care, probably more than most before him. 

And somehow, Brock wasn’t surprised by that.

Okay this one was a little sadder than the others but its okay because love and stuff! this is a part of healing, is recognizing you’re human with emotions and expressing them appropriately. I hope that you enjoyed this! As always, like, reblog, and let me know what you think!