#i have personal investment in all of the pairings i draw its hard for me to motivate myself to draw them otherwise

[atoriv-art]

I really loved your kankushino art. Do you ship them? Or was that a random pairing you wanted to draw?

i do! i simply think it's amusing that in the single fight that they had, they managed to KO each other at the same time and i choose to believe it pisses them both off to this day

[bruh-myguy-what]

If Not Him, Perhaps Me

Hoooooooo boy! I cannot believe how long it's been. It's almost criminal I've let this go on for so long without an update. I hate doing that...but the ADHD and life decided that just couldn't- which was great (derogatory). However! I am back. Fully, entirely, and totally invested in restarting this series because I still love the idea and want to see it through. I now have an AO3 as well, so I will posting all of the updates and original parts there once I get everything organized.

If you were part of the original tag list and would like to not longer be apart of it, no hard feelings- just message me to let me know and you will be promptly removed for the notifications!

But! If you would like to be added or I forgot to add you- since it's been 140000 years- please just let me know! (whether via message or comment)

________________________

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Pairing- Thrawn x f!reader x Luke Skywalker

Summary- After being aboard the Chimera, for who knows how long, you've grown accustomed to the troopers and how things operate, but one thing that just won't become easy is dealing with Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Word Count- 3.5K

Warnings- Mentions of kidnapping, confrontation, angst

Days turned into weeks which, you could only assume, was closely turning into a month. There were no signs of Luke knowing where in the galaxy you might be or even where to begin looking for you. At the earlier stages of your confinement, fear settled in your heart when the thought of being left aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer alone...without Luke, reared its head. Over time though, complete loneliness dissipated and was replaced by the friendly interactions you participated in with a few Storm Troopers that were in charge of your immediate well-being. "Are you ready for your lunch today," a familiar modulated voice echoed through your small confinement as he called your name.

Lifting your head from the notebook given to you a few weeks prior, a sigh escaped your lips. "I don't know, Danver, is it that gross mush stuff again or, will I be allowed to eat normal food for once while here?" Your comment garnered a laugh from the trooper as he opened the cell doors, setting the plate on a table given to you at Thrawn's request.

"Sorry, pal," the soldier replied, his modulated voice still resonating with a smile, "not even we get to enjoy delicacies like that aboard the Chimera."

While scooting yourself off the comfortable cot you currently spent your time nestled in (which too had been replaced at the request of the Grand Admiral after you'd mentioned off-handedly something about neck and back pain), you set aside the drawing book. A look of displeasure crossed your face, "who honestly eats this stuff willingly?" A disgruntled mumble was all the trooper beside you needed to hear, to pat your shoulder assuringly in response.

"Apparently, you do," his laugh caused your shoulders to slump. "Don't act so melodramatic. At least you're the admiral's favorite prisoner," Danver's joke hardly seemed comical to you as the cell forcefield reappeared behind him. "You might be the admiral's favorite person entirely aboard the Chimera, in fact." 

A snort escaped from between your lips as you disregarded the boring plate, preferring the growling in your stomach over the same taste of dried fruits and cold meat. "That's real cute, Danver." You quipped, "Next time, why don't you let him know that so maybe I can go home instead of being held captive here."

Raising his hands in defense, the trooper shook his head. "Listen snarky, all I'm saying is that if you complain about something, it changes, and at a good speed too. If you mention that you're bored, you receive gifts to prevent said boredom- again- at a pretty astounding rate. You also have an array of soldiers at your doorstep to keep you company- though that one could be because we all like you," he laughed at the end of his explanation. His words surprised you, the conviction in which he mentioned the favoritism Thrawn had seemingly shown you caught you off guard. Skepticism lurked in your glare at your newfound "friend" as you stole a glance at the journal gifted to you. "Everyone else has mentioned it, not just me. I've just been the first one to say something to you, apparently." He chuckled again at the suspicious look on your face.

"You're laughing, but I don't find the joke funny..." you grimace at the trooper.

"That's because I'm not joking, snarky," Danver responded steadily and even behind the black visor, you could feel his unwavering stare. "Believe it or not, the admiral has taken a liking to you and all of the Chimera crew can tell." And with a salute, the trooper left you with a thousand thoughts swirling.

There was no way someone as stern and withdrawn as Thrawn would have any kind of favorites, at all, let alone aboard the Chimera. He was only using you to get to Luke, that was it.

Though...

Your thoughts drifted to the conversations you'd been having recently. While you couldn't recount exactly how long you had been on the Chimera, you knew it had felt long enough to feel an odd...growth to your chats with Thrawn. He had been what, you guessed, would be considered "kinder" when he spoke directly to you. At times he had even invited you to his office merely to speak about your art or have you critique some other interesting pieces he had gathered over his years of travel. Thinking about it long enough it did seem that you were learning more facets of the Grand Admiral, though nothing about him personally, just...small details that one could only learn about someone from being in their presence enough.

Of course, even under this realization, there was hardly any way you were going to be kind back to him. He was an Imperial Grand Admiral using you to gain control over the rebel cause, 'Over my dead body.' You thought stubbornly to yourself.

If Thrawn wanted to bring the Empire back into power again, he'd have to do it without your knowledge or help. You just hoped he wouldn't catch onto clues about things as easily as he'd seemed to have with your previous art.

Picking at the pages of your journal, you fidgeted in thought.

____________________________

"She seems to be acclimating very well, sir," a modulated voice spoke in reply to an earlier command, "the troopers all seem to love her. While the other crew members don't seem to interact with her all that much, when we escort her on her strict walks around the vessel, she keeps to herself and doesn't seem to nose around."

Something about this sudden growing knowledge of how well you had been treating his troopers bothered Thrawn. You'd been aboard the Chimera for going on three months and yet in your constant visits with him you still refused to open up at all, quipping with biting comments and passive-aggressive retorts, even when asked simple questions.

The duality perplexed him. Of course, he understood very well that he had never been known for his social skills, even back in the Ascendancy. Even then he expected that at some point you would see he didn't desire for your entire stay aboard his vessel to be excruciating.

Though at times it seemed you'd rather it be such way.

You were unbearably tenacious.

Difficult to speak with about any subject, and downright defiant at some intervals.

It...astonished Thrawn.

"Captain," the cold, calculating voice finally broke the long growing silence, "tell me, why do you believe our captive is so," he pondered for a moment, "agreeable with you?" The Chiss stopped his journey, to stand before the large sculpture in his office- scrutinizing it.

Silence ensued once more as the Storm Trooper considered the question, "U-Uh...sir?"

Turning only his head to glance over at the soldier standing taut by the door, Thrawn encouraged, "I am simply endeavoring to understand what it is she sees so sociable in my troopers, Captain."

"W-Well sir, it seems to me that since she trusts us to not harm her, we have gained her confidence. She's mentioned how scrutinizing you are about her, she..." The trooper wavered for a moment, "She seems to distrust you, uh, sir."

"I see."

The curt reply concerned the captain, but he remained diligent in his stance.

"You are dismissed, Captain. Thank you for your time." Thrawn returned to look back over at the large statue.

"Y-Yes sir!" The trooper bowed quickly and retreated through the doors behind him.

Left alone in the quiet of his office, the Grand Admiral considered what he’d been told. "She does not trust me, hmm?" He wandered back over to his desk, lowering himself into his seat. "It would seem my efforts have not had their desired result. Perhaps I must attempt something more... suitable."

____________________________

"Ya know, I feel like at this point, we could honestly just," you paused dramatically, gesturing for a moment with your hands, "stop wasting our time with these meetings, don't you?"

Thrawn sat idly in his chair, behind his desk, elbows propped up on his desk to steeple his fingers in thought, silently watching you. He'd called you in for another round of conversation at random and it had felt as if all fear had left the atmosphere that surrounded him- now you were just annoyed.

"I feel like we've gone back and forth enough for you to understand that your little gifts?" You lifted the journal he requested you to bring this time, "They aren't going to sweeten me up to you."

"Are you unhappy with the opportunity to practice your art once more?" His sudden question caught you off point as you opened your mouth to continue your tirade, mouth now hanging open dumbly. "Perhaps I have misunderstood your subtle requests then. If you are so displeased with my efforts, then you are more than welcome to return the journal."

Was this guy serious? Was he guilt-tripping you?

Lost for a response, you sat back in your seat, contemplatively. Were you being ungrateful? Had this "warlord of the Empire" truly tried to do something nice for you?

No.

He kidnapped you!

No way!

A small intake of air and the soft rustle of clothing caught your attention and looking back over the desk you saw Thrawn had resumed his casual position in his seat- inclining back a bit, a long leg crossed over the other as he grabbed up his datapad. "I have arranged for you to be transferred into your own personal quarters. Your things are being moved as we speak, please come to me if there is anything out of place. There shall be a set of Storm Troopers at your door to ensure your safety," then his glowing eyes met yours, severe and still unnerving, "and to dissuade your premature and unannounced departure from my ship."

Narrowing your eyes at the admiral, you cocked your head in confusion and irritation. "Wha-?"

"It would seem we have nothing further to discuss," Thrawn interrupted with an oddly soft use of your name, averting his eyes back to the datapad in his hands, "you are dismissed. A trooper outside shall see you to your new space."

Why did he keep interrupting you?!

"But I'm not finished!" You protested heatedly, rising from your seat to place your hands and journal on the desk. Leaning furiously toward the Chiss, "Why are you being so weirdly nice to me? You want information, I know it, but I'll be damned if you think I'm stupid enough to fall for these petty acts of kindness as your method of manipulation."

Your frustration was only met with calm silence, not a shifting of his red eyes, nor a flinch in his body. He seemed thoroughly unimpressed by your outrage. 'How dare he ignore me!' You fumed, gripping the desk edge until your knuckles were white.

"Damn it, Thrawn! I don't care if you're a Grand Admiral of some extinct Empire, I will not be ignored!"

"It would surprise you then, to hear that perhaps I am not manipulating you?" Again with his dumb questions as responses!

That didn't settle your anger any and it seemed as if Thrawn could sense that, as he sat down his datapad, leaned forward, and grabbed the discarded journal from in front of you. "Perhaps", he spoke casually, surveying the worn cover, then before speaking again, met your eyes with what seemed like....warmth? "You have genuinely piqued my inquisitiveness and whether you are connected to a Jedi is no longer an appeal of mine, but rather you are."

An odd feeling settled over you at his gaze. Whereas before Thrawn had only ever seen through you- or so it felt- he was staring...at you now. His eyes seemed to carry the oddest hint of tenderness, maybe? It was something new, something you hadn't seen in his stare before, and you had been the subject of most of his glaring recently.

Even as you stood there, voiceless, the admiral's eyes simply observed you. A warmth spread into your cheeks at his open stare and you withdrew from the desk clumsily, eyes averting to anything else around you.

Were you blushing?

Over Thrawn!

How embarrassing...you were supposed to be furious, not...bashful at such an odd compliment.

Was it a compliment?

Standing from his desk, Thrawn positioned his hands behind his back in his typical way, "Come, allow me to show you to your room then."

Once outside the hall, the Storm Troopers began to follow behind, to which Thrawn coolly discharged them. You were so wrapped up in what just happened in his office, you hardly recognized the confused glances they had given one another. The metal grating below you was suddenly far too fascinating to care about the odd looks of the passing Chimera crew.

The entire walk had been silent, Thrawn never tried to quell any uncomfortable energy you were clearly giving off, he was just...quiet.

That was until the two of you had reached your new room and he greeted the two Storm Troopers already stationed, "Please see that she is satisfied with the room." Thrawn then turned to you, to which you slowly met his glowing eyes. His height was as intimidating as ever, that had never changed. "As I previously mentioned, if you find anything not to your liking, I would request that you address me personally about the matter. You know where my office is by now, I assume?"

"Yes, I do." You quietly replied, nodding meekly.

"Good. Then I shall see you for our next meeting when I call for it." And after handing you off to the guards, the admiral departed down the hall from where the two of you came.

Confusion upon confusion racked up in your mind as you stepped forward, one of the troopers pressing the button to open your door for you. "Weird he brought you here himself, huh?" One of them chimed in as you passed him. Thankfully you recognized the voice and it brought some ease to you.

"Shut up, Arrance, I'm already confused enough." You grumbled, the door sliding shut behind you.

Once you reached for the light, you were shocked to see how...cozy the room actually was. An enormous bed sat in the left quarter of the room, framed by an even larger window that looked out into the starry ocean of space. The bed seemed large enough for four people, fitted with a plush comforter and so many warm-colored blankets it looked like a nest you could crawl into and hibernate for months. The pillows looked just as inviting, their matching covers pulling the colors together beautifully. There was an expansive couch that seemed to go on forever and had nearly as many pillows as the large bed, behind it, butted up against the steel wall, and beside the window sat a desk.

As you explored you noticed that you had a private fresher with everything you could need to pamper yourself, an easel with canvases, paints, and paintbrushes, and a very small kitchenette. Everything.

Thrawn had thought of...everything.

There was nothing this nice aboard the Falcon...

Though, your family was there.

Han and Leia.

Chewie.

R2.

...Luke.

As you sat on the couch, thinking about how much you missed everyone, your heart ached for Luke. Hearing his sweet laugh, feeling his warm touches- as few as they were. And while the room Thrawn had given you was nice...you couldn't help but be reminded of how long you must've been away from the group by now. No one had given you an exact frame of how long you'd been aboard the Chimera, not even Thrawn, but it’s had to be months at this point. Months with still no sign of Luke...

You knew he wouldn't leave you in the hands of the Imperials indefinitely, even if just because you were friends...and nothing more.

Nothing more.

Never more.

Not for a Jedi.

Not for Luke.

Though, that would never stop your heart from yearning for more. Luke meant the world to you and loving him came so easily, especially when that precious smile appeared on his face whenever Han would say something stupid, or Leia would mention something about the twins. His gentleness when it came to those he cared about. His determination and love for others.

Luke was a wonderful man. A strong, compassionate man.

You missed them all so much...

You missed Luke even more.

Maybe they'd come to save you soon.

You just had to hold out hope.

_

A knock roused you unexpectedly.

You'd fallen asleep?

Of course, you had. The couch was the most comfortable thing you'd relaxed in for weeks- besides that seat in Thrawn's office that was arguably snuggly.

"Oh right..." you mumbled to yourself as you wiped at your tired eyes. You'd forgotten you’d yelled at Thrawn earlier and then he gave you that weird compliment. "What a jerk."

Another knock brought your attention back and you stood to answer it. With a whoosh, you were met with a trooper holding out your journal. How'd he get that? Didn't they move it in with everything else?

"The admiral wanted me to make sure this made its safe return to you." Danver's voice reached your ears and you looked at him confused.

"The admiral?" You echoed curiously.

The nod of his plastoid helmet made everything click back into place, "Yeah. He said you'd left it in his office."

You hadn't left it! That insufferable Chiss had swiped it from you while you were shouting at him! What was with him, anyway?!

You took a deep breath, leveling your irritation, this wasn't Danver's issue. No need to yell at him. No, you’d save that for Thrawn’s next meeting. "Thanks, Danver. I appreciate it."

Muttering a response, he peaked his head in and glanced around with a whistle, modulator crackling slightly from the sound. "He really did give you the best quarters on the ship. That's nuts."

"I'm sorry?" You responded.

Danver moved to stand out of the doorway once again, "word's been going around that the admiral moved you to the nicest room, aside from his, on the Chimera." He chuckled in good humor, "Looks like they weren't lying. Now you really can't argue with me that you're his favorite, huh?" With a nudge to the arm, the captain left after a farewell, the door sliding shut.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what he’d said. It took a moment, but in stunned silence you walked over to slouch into the bed, the journal still in hand. "What the hell is happening?" You muttered, opening up the pages aimlessly, trying to comprehend the last few hours or so of the day.

Thrawn had allowed you to yell at him, instead meeting you with a very oddly placed compliment.

He then gave you, what Danver called, the best room on the Chimera- after having shouted directly at him.

What in the galaxy was going on?

Then your eyes caught something out of place as you flipped through the filled pages, "huh?" Annotations had been made on one of your drawings of a Storm Trooper- coincidentally, Danver- speaking to what seemed to be another person not pictured on the page. The script looked familiar and you realized why quickly after reading the comments.

It was Thrawn's handwriting.

'Captain Danver's plastoid chest piece has a notch or two more than you have decided to add here. Though overall I find your attention to detail praiseworthy. Not many see things as you seem to. The way you've drawn him, opting to illustrate him speaking with a fellow trooper, shows your level of personal esteem for him. Your art is beautiful, your talent is unmatched. Please, continue, I would like to see more.'

Snapping the journal shut and throwing it on the floor, cheeks hot, you curled yourself into the cozy blankets "Stupid Chiss."

________________________________

Tag list:

@blueberry-thrawn @myevilmouse @blackmonitor @coffeeorsomething-irl @torchbearerkyle @agenteliix @rebelmarylou @danger-xylophones @srryxmate @dindjarinsluvbot

(there are people I know were following but didn't request to be tagged, and I feel bad to tag them but I know they were asking for updates so if that's you and you want to be tagged, please let me know!)

[mina7756]

Top 5 Fire Emblem ships you wish people understood the vision?

Most of the ships I like are pretty mainstream, so this is a hard question to answer, but I'll just talk about them anyway

1. Mareeta/Ced

This is probably the only actual rarepair I like. It's definitely a bit of a stretch since they have 0 dialogue and only 2-3 chapters that overlap where you can deploy both of them (and they don't even have that much if you choose to recruit Saias instead).

If you really wanted to you could find things that they have in common but admittedly part of this ship is that I just like both of them a lot and have no one else to pair them with. Ced has Altena but I don't really like Altena that much, and Tine but I don't think Ced and Tine have much of an interesting dynamic together. Mareeta has Saias which is just weird tbh.

Overall it's not an impossible ship or anything, just one that probably has to happen after the war rather than during it.

2. Tine/Febail

This isn't a rare ship but also not common so I thought I'd include it. I was introduced to the idea by friends and I think its growing on me, partly because you can easily imagine Tine and Febail meeting before the main story. Febail probably worked multiple jobs for Bloom before what we see in game, and Tine sneaks around to help villages in the northern area. And again, I don't have any other ships I was previously invested in for either of them. I kind of want to draw a comic / 'manga' of how I imagine their first meeting could have gone, but I don't know if my drawing skills are good enough for that.

3. Arthur/Fee

They are incredibly mainstream but I feel like I never mention them so I'll do it here. Their banter is cute, and it makes the serious moments shine more, like when Arthur expresses some genuine worry and Fee's confused. Someone bubbly like Fee is great for balancing Arthur's rougher personality.

4. Leif/Nanna

Again they are pretty mainstream, but out of all the mostly-canon Jugdral ships, they don't get talked about that much. From what I've seen it feels like a lot of people just pair them together but aren't that invested in their relationship, but I am. I don't usually like childhood sweethearts as a trope, but Leif and Nanna go through a lot growing up, and it's not a stretch to imagine them relying on each throughout that. They always have each other even if they have to leave other people like Asbel, Miranda and Linoan behind while on the run. Overall I just think they're really sweet together.

5. Lene/Ares

Not a rarepair either but I'm running out of Gen2 ships. This used to be one of my favorite ships period, and I still like it but I did recover from being completely deranged and moved on to other ships for that. I can imagine them in Darna together, not really having anyone else but each other. I also think the point of their big fight is something that actually makes sense, which is good because I don't like when fights are nonsensical and just used for drama. They also have some elements which aren't addressed in game but could add an interesting angle, like difference in class/status.

[twistedwonderlandboiimagines]

Heyo! I'd like to request a romantic TWST match-up if you're still taking them, thank you!

I'm a Libra INFP

Personality: I'm a tomboy that tends to lean more towards an optimistic point of view, always striving to better myself for the people I care about and leave a positive impact on the world around me. As hard as I try to learn and be patient and break patterns I grew up with, I definitely have my moments of backsliding into snapping at the slightest inconveniences and adopting a very passive aggressive persona of sorts. But with that being said, I've also worked hard to develop my self awareness to realize when I've gone too far and to try and make things right when the worst does happen. Compassion is something I try very hard to embody and I've been described as bubbly by my friends lmao.

I'm also a very curious person, a lover of stories that were my friends growing up (if it helps any I heavily relate to Belle from Beauty and the Beast). I like learning what weird and strange things are out there in the world and figuring out how different stories manage to move me in different ways and how other people read into them.

Likes: I draw, I write, I play a little guitar, I sing, I collect art books, I generally adore the arts in any form they take. Physical touch and words of affirmation are my love languages and I give amazing hugs according to a lot of people in and outside my family. I tend to daydream a lot and I get my best ideas from those sessions, and I value my alone time to recharge my social battery as much as I like spending time with the people I care about.

Dislikes: Constantly having to be the only one driving the conversation is a deal breaker for me, I want who I'm talking to to be invested and ready and willing to engage with me. Extreme close-mindedness and inflexibility towards even considering different perspectives is also a deal breaker.

Overall, what I want the most out of a partner is to be seen and understood.

Anon, the past delinquent turned honor student i pair you up is..

Deuce Spade

Lets be honest a tomboy partner would fit him given his history of liking to rumble

He's all for you trying to change for the better given that he's on the same journey himself! It'd be great for the two of you to keep each other accountable (if Riddle isnt around to straighten him out of course

Deuce likes that you've got your hand in a bit of everything in terms of hobbies, it makes him curious to try them out himself and he can show you some of his, like riding blastcycles.

He also very much appreciates your optimism, giving the students at NRC can be a bit nasty to each other at times.

The Heartslabyul student doesn't mind you being an introvert, things are always lively at school regardless so if anything its a change of pace

will literally fight or deal with what or whoever makes you upset; sometimes he isn't the best at keeping his own emotions in check so if you're angry, he is too

As for the love languages, Deuce doesn't mind hugging or physical contact, you can do as much as you want with him, and he always praises you when you've done something he finds smart or cool.

According to your zodiac signs, Gemini and Libra are a strong match!

[prettypetals-900]

The Artful Encounter

Pairings: (2018) Michelangelo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, appreciation of art, illegal art placement.

There have been news of a mysterious art bandit on the loose. "criminal!" They call the person, Though Mikey couldn't help but appreciate the deeper meaning in this person's art and is willing to try and capture them to not only prove to his brothers but maybe even get an autograph...

Your parents arguing echoed off the apartment, it bounced off every corner and every wall as it made its way to your room. Your door was closed though it felt as though they were screaming at each other right in front of you from how loud they were being. The music blaring in your beats couldn't even drown them out. Sighing you took them off and rubbed your face looking at your sketchbook. The piece you've been working on was incredible.

It might've been one of your best piece yet you thought while admiring it. The colors of the vibrant orange contrasting with the blue in the background surely made the word pop. You smiled a bit before reality crashed onto our by the shaking walls and sound of glass breaking. Looking at the time you considered. "Time to go..." You leapt off your bed while packing everything.

Shuffling the duffel bag out from under our bed you opened it adding in the new spray cans you bought earlier that day. Packing your sketchbook as well you started getting ready. Putting on a pair of black cargos, white crop top and black hoodie. You put our hair out and away from your face before putting on your vibrant orange converse and orange bandanna. putting up your hood you sneakily and quietly took your bag and climbed the fire escape out your window.

Not looking back once to your parents screaming but now enjoying the bustling city from outside the mess you considered normal.

In the lair it was a quiet night. The guys decided to watch TV with Master Splinter, who was sleeping peacefully. Mikey relished in the feeling of his brothers and father getting along watching one of many great Lou Jitsu movies. Mikey continued to watch periodically while also drawing on his paper when the movie they were watching was rudely interrupted by the news blaring.

All of the guys groaned as the new played, "BREAKING NEWS! The graffiti bandit is back at it again. Plaguing our city with its filth. This hideous "art" is a terrible influence to all and this guy needs to be stopped immediately..." Leo Rolled his eyes in annoyance. "How come the news is covering this guy and why is it so hard to catch them." Donnie continued looking at his wrist taping on the screen.

"I conquer with Leon, It was physically proven that the were human, The police force are just being incredibly lazy in capturing him." Mikey piped up "I like their art, its colorful and different it's not like its anything inappropriate..." Raph got up instantly his jump shook the living room. "Well Raph can't let this go on, we gotta put a stop to them. What do you say fellas?"

Raph confidently said with a face of determination. "Nah I'll pass," "Yeah same here." Raphs confidence deflated as his annoyance spiked. "C'mon guys we're a team!" Leo smiled smugly before adding his two piece. "Come one Raphie, it's not like he's doing anything bad. Ha ain't hurtin no one. Why can't we just let this one go, plus Lou Jitsu 5 is playing after this!"

Mikeys face glowed with an idea as his eyes sparkled. "OMIGOSHHHHH let me go!" Raph stopped in his track before shaking his head rapidly. "Absolutely not, As the oldest I can't just let you go out by yourself with this dangerous criminal!" Leo snaked his arm around raphs shoulder. "Aw come on big bro, let Mikey do this. I think he can handle himself pretty well. Right D?" Donnie too invested in updating Sheldon's program only waved his hand "Yeah yeah, whatever Leo said is probably right..."

Mikey Squealed and jumped in excitement. He ran to hug Leo and Donnie. Went to hug Raph quickly before raph can answer and ran out the lair waving. "Bye guys I love you! I won't be long!" Raphs eye twitched rapidly as he rubbed his hands "You guys think he'll be aight out there?" Leo shrugged before continuing the movie. "I'm sure he's fine...Hopefully." That in no way shape or form eased Raphs nerves.

You traveled the back streets of New York, making sure no one can see you as suspicious. Your beats blared in your ears as Kendrick Lamar played. The soothing rhymes filled your head as you bopped your it at the same time of the beats. Looking at your phone you tracked at the abandoned building you picked. You finally made it after long walk. It looked big and old.

Nothing about it really stood out, looked like every other building that was abandoned in New York. You smiled happily, a perfect canvas for this piece. You dropped your bag as you picked out the colors you would need, including your sketchbook. Opening up to the page you grabbed your orange and got to work. The music in your beats as background noise almost meshing with the serene feeling of watching the color appear against the only dirty brick wall.

Grabbing a ray of colors to blend and add, every mistake used to make the piece better and better. Your hands turning every color you used as it blended into your skin. The smell is the spray paint comforting as you have gotten used to it. Everything about it was so calming to you, better than anything. You were so invested to your piece you couldn't hear the figure that was immersed in your piece.

Mikey sat on top of the roof of a building directly where he can watch your work of magic. He saw how invested you were and if anybody has been talking shit about your art they were wrong. Its beautiful, the contrast of colorful colors was impeccable. His eyes sparkled with amazement and he smiled appreciating the art. He was so invested that the ringtone of his phone startled him and he almost fell off the building.

Picking up the phone he answered "Chellooooooo?" "MIKEY!" Raph's voice rang against mikey's ear. "Have you gotten there yet? Have you defeated him yet and gave him to the police? What's taking so long? YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T BE LONG!" His voice rang as Mikey kept his phone at arms length for the sake of his hearing. Mikey nervously chuckled. "I see them don't worry Raph I can do this, just trust me.."

Raph sighed long before mumbling an okay "I believe in you lil brother." Mikey smiled hanging up but his smile dropped knowing he has to put this mysterious artist down and bring them over to the police. He brought out his Nunchakus and gave them a good rotate. He was about to grab them and them up before he heard it..."HEY!"

You sensed someone staring for a while, but brushed it off. Thinking it was just paranoia, though until you heard it. You lowered your music in time to hear the whoosh of something spinning in the air. You looked up to see a dark figure with white bright eyes. Scared shitless you didn't know what to do. What if it sensed fear? You screamed out the first thing that came into mind. "HEY!"

The figure stopped and jumped, tumbling a bit before he feels off the roof he was in and landed in a pile of trash. You stayed there for a monet trying to hear any movement before deciding to book it. You didn't even make it two steps before that same whoosh you heard wisped past the air and caught your legs. You fell forward hard as it dragged you towards it. Your scream was cut short when three fingered hand covered your mouth through your mask. "SHHHH I'm not gonna hurt you."

You looked at the figure trying to get a good look at him under the dim street light that lit up the alleyway. He was green and rocked an orange bandanna with all the of stickers on him. Was he a fucking turtle? You shook as he looked you in the eyes. "Don't scream I'm not going to hurt you." You side eyed him until you finally shook your head quickly as an almost pleading yes. He smiled softly before removing his hand.

"W-what are you? Who are you?" He sheeply sat you upright before placing you against the wall your art was in. "The names Mikey, sorry to scare you." You looked him up and down before sighing. He seemed to be of no threat yet. "Then what do you want?" You said sharply. He winced and smiled nervously. "Well uhh you see I uh I'm gonna turn you in."

You sharply look his way. "Your kidding me? C'mon dude I didn't even do anything wrong." You yelled. He looked ashamed while looking at your art piece. He seemed amazed as you looked at your art from an angle. "I'm sorry..really I am. But you've been vandalizing the city with this amazing art. It's starting to make the people of New York angry." You scoffed and looked down to your orange converse. "Psh what doesn't. What I've been all over the news? Do I at least got a good nickname?"

He shrugged before explaining "I mean not you specifically but your art has been everywhere!" That seemed to ease a smile into you, from what he can tell underneath your mask. "They call you the Graffiti Bandit..." Your smile instantly vanished as a look of anger crossed your face. "Your fucking kidding 'Graffiti Bandit'! They couldn't have chosen something cooler like the Mysterious artist or (Y/initials)? I sign them for a damn reason!"

He looked at you before looking at the piece again. "And now I'm going to jail with a fucking stupid nickname and a final unfinished art piece. He hesitated, biting his fingers before looking into your eyes. "I can let you finish...IF you promise to let me turn out in afterwards." YOu looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "And if you try to run I can catch you again with this." he raised his chain from his Nunchaku.

You sighed thinking about his offer, before looking him in the eyes once more and smiling a bit. "You got a deal turtle boy." Releasing you he stood close by the wall as you picked up the stranded spray paint can. You took a step back observing it, trying to regain your thoughts back before finally nodding your head and going back to it. He kept on talking to you finding out his full name is Michelangelo and that him and his brothers saved New York in times of danger.

"That's incredible. Having New York's back like that. You guys must get a lot of praise." He shrugged "Eh people find to like us better if they didn't know we exist." You looked his way with a face that had his heart clench a little. "Well I think you guys deserve the praise, you guys are amazing. Especially a place like New York you protect it. I think your pretty cool Mikey." Though you couldn't see it his face turned brightly red as he smiled. "Thanks (Y/initial)". You turned towards him with a slight smile. "Y/N...since everyone will know my name in a few. I thought you should've been the first one to know."

You finally finished as the sun began raising over the city's buildings. Wiping the sweat off your brow you finally took your hood off and mask. Mikey finally got a good look to your face and might he say, the artwork you did was no comparison to how you looked. The prettiest painting he's ever seen. He blushed as he seen your satisfied smile before turning his way. Your eyes brightening their color as the sun hit them just right. You opened your mouth to say something before you heard it. Sirens...

"Shit.." Mikey too looked the way the sirens were down the alleyway. "Well I'll definitely see you around Michelangelo, It was a pleasure." He looked towards your way, though there was no one there. Just a bottle of spray paint and your beautiful art work in front of him. He could chase you down but something in him stopped as he looked at the art in front of him. Breathtaking, but not as beautiful as you.

He continued looking towards the art before going into the manhole near the alley way after hearing the sirens being a little too close for comfort. He slowly treaded home as he hummed a song heard faintly through your headphones. He felt light and feathery and his stomach was doing twirls. He finally made it to the entrance of the lair and all his brothers was waiting there. "WHERE WERE OU? WE THOUGHT YOU DIED? OR GOT HURT? WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER ANY OF MY CALLS OR TEXTS..." Raph screeched though Mikey wasn't listening.

Leo noticed his blank stare and how he was suspiciously quiet. He raised a brow before asking "Did you at least get him?" He nodded his head no slowly. "Her...It was a her." He walked slowly towards his room, closing the door quietly. ALl three of his brothers looked at each other confused before hearing the new blare in the living room again. On the TV it showed a graffiti piece, mixing of all orange and blue colors. The words spelling 'Escape', every letter drawn in music and art supplies. Interpreting it all together in something beautiful.

"BREAKING NEWS! GRAFFITI BANDIT BACK AT IT AGAIN VANDALIZING OUR BEAUTIFUL CITY!...."

Thank You so much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it!. This idea was incredible to write about. Feedback and ideas are highly recommended. Till next time MUAH!🤍🌻

[sugar-petals]

SuperM as Boyfriends Headcanon

↪ caro’s note. extra long version because i miss ‘em. best boys, they’re all bf material to the moon and back ♡

5k words | bullet points

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub play, shibari, female reader, grinding, poly mentions, threesomes, face-sitting, femdom & vanilla, smut and fluff

⌈ ten

— motto: they won’t underestimate me for long.

most of your social environment is gonna be confused by ten at the beginning 

and don’t really get what he’s all about

or think he’s like whatever, some random guy in a tank top

acting peculiar

finding him kind of hard to gauge

some of your family and relatives might even think he’s totally unusual and a sneaky fuckboy making you mad 

they seriously wonder what you see in him

down the line that perception has turned by 180 degrees

as it should

ten becomes more irreplaceable, relatable, beautiful, perfect and impressive the more you know him

he’s not as mysterious and impossibly badass as everyone assumes

his personality is very approachable to you 

and you find him interesting in every aspect, looks to hobbies to background to personal habits

and also opinions because ten is a guy who really thinks stuff through

so you gotta be roughly on the same wavelength 

he likes discussing controversial and complicated stuff a lot for sure

being far wiser than his age suggests 

you are the first to share those things with him until the rest of the world catches up to this gem of a person

spending so much time with you

in the most personal way he can

he takes you to see the floating markets in bangkok, you spend the summer in thailand

wakeboarding and playing badminton

his entire family knows you inside out at some point this shit is serious

it’s very important to him to go back to the roots every now and then

and that you have been around his home city as well

getting to enjoy the area and time together eating the most savory delicacies

renting a boat and paddling you around to the important spots, he can explain any question you have

this kissing is gonna be so romantic 

who needs a vacation in venice when you can go to thailand with none other than ten himself as your ferryman let that sink in

except eating durian there he is, the boyfriend who can do anything!

with seemingly no effort

ten does little kind services of love for you throughout the day

he pours you herbal tea, fixes some furniture (he’s surprisingly good at tinkering), comes home from the bakery with your favorite pastry, does the laundry with your favorite fabric softener

he also goes on a huge shopping spree with you monthly because fashion is key in this household and it’s tremendous fun

you giggle when he puts on oversized shirts deliberately to look funny

everyone in the clothing store will think oh man what an adorable pair

ten will model the living hell out of the entire stock

and buy you the cape you really really want as a birthday present

said item turns out to be your favorite couple accessory

because you can sit next to each other on a bench at the river and wear it

what’s not to love about a portable blanket

of course he will take to instagram and make it such a cool thing, photographies of you wearing really cool coats and jackets

mirror bathroom selfies together as well, with a back hug, the classic

and not just for insta

you snuggle a lot generally

ten is always available for affection

and accepts all PDA

he’s a kitty after all, he loves the warmth of your body more than you know

remember how taemin said ten’s hands are always cold, newsflash not anymore since you stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie whenever you can

and hello sir your paws will be nice and cozy on my waist

or hand in hand when you waltz through your apartment

time for dance is a must

oh my god ten is so good at all of this

although say he’s definitely faster into latin than standard genres

tango argentino, he loves flamenco as well

don’t believe me? ten is a diehard rosalía stan!

vamos

so, no-brainer, expect a lot of dancy stuff 

that escalates into wild, passionate fucking

which probably looks like an aggressive form of couple exercises

you poor sore souls

ten’s lil kitty butt is falling apart from all the “i can handle a bigger one!”-level pegging and you have aching legs all over

favorite position? full nelson

if you ask me ten’s ass is probably so carved out by the end of this you could fit lucas and kai in there from head to toe

this is not for the faint of heart

sex with this guy is extra cardio

and if you’re into that a threesome is gonna go down sooner or later

with our girl lisa

there. i said it

miss manoban in those knee-high boots, grinding her thighs between yours and you finishing off on ten’s face? the fucking hottest thing ever i need a moment wow

i don’t have to tell you how orgasmic this is gonna be

steamy sex life with ten very recommended

⌈ kai

— motto: you’re like a precious rose. i’ll protect you forever.

to be straightforward with you

he is in so heavily in demand it’s madness

to give you an idea of the scale

mark is basically occupied by yuta until the end of time 

but kai has an entire idol fanclub on top of all erigoms

those sharp moves did not go unnoticed

he gets an inkigayo sandwich every other day

jesus christ

if rent-a-sexy-bf.com was a thing kai would be the most requested

his phone would be blowing up with contracts like

and you also have to pass kyungsoo’s vibe check

and taemin’s

the road to being kai’s gf is indeed the way of the samurai

i mean honestly: kim jongin is without a doubt the hardest member to get a date with

this has got to be the most selective man of the entire industry or something

if he likes you he REALLY likes you

and he will be the one showing initiative

because he wants to make it clear he isn’t just spending time out of politeness or something

although it’s pretty logical that if kai was unable to reject someone he would no longer be an idol but a harem husband busy every hour of the day

seoul would be able to found its own village 

kai town

where like 70% of the population is pregnant

but since kai wants to keep on dancing obviously and he wants to lend his heart to only one person 

seoul has to settle with a singular nini family house instead of a kai district

where you and the man himself are a full-fledged household basically since kai’s nieces double as actual kids

if you wanna be a young ass ‘mom but not mom with kids’ and be married to kim kai this is it

does he have a thing for milfs or something

that thought just came to my mind

anyway you’re mommy anyway wink wink

fucking til’ dawn until even his muscles hurt

going raw at the gym together

him cooking the most random food with the infamous waffle maker

cuddling with an army of teddy bears surrounding you

walking the dogs with the sexiest dancer alive 

and the sexiness is only the tip of the iceberg 

we know he’s all-round amazing

kai is the king of figuring out ways to chill out with you anywhere anytime

and yes innocent chilling

...unless you’re in the mood for something else

up to you

anyway

sweet innocent chilling for now... with the stunner... just smooching at best things aren’t going raw or anything

on the couch in the kitchen in the car when it’s parked somewhere in nature

kai takes you very seriously and is a great listener

he’s literally so respectful and open-minded i can’t

he will keep your secrets and stand up for you if it’s ever needed

yes he is extremely caring and invested

kai does not tolerate others being shady towards you

if there’s an instance where you are hurt and unable to assert yourself don’t worry. he knows how to confront others with measure but a firm determination.

kai takes a lot of that responsibility but only to the degree where you are comfortable

i think you get what i mean by that

and he is diplomatic instead of plain patronizing

you have a right to be protected. it means he not only treats you well, but also makes sure your well-being isn’t disturbed in any other way outside of the relationships

outside influences aren’t to be underestimated

and since kai is a godly man you encounter a lot of jealousy from others

a matter he will take into his hands since he knows he’s the reason

standing up for you also means saying no 

to these jealous voices so this is an important boundary he has to draw

that all kinds of hellbent people want to get into his pants and take his stage image too literally is not up to you to fix

kai is there for you to enjoy and love not to defend

that’d be exhausting and beside the point 

kai prevents stress and negativity to come to you

i hope i explained this well he doesn’t do this to be bossed up or make you weak it’s because he wants to make life easier for you

guys being protective will be chalked up as chauvinistic these days. often rightfully so 

but what i mean is that kai support you in all regards so you won’t be at a disadvantage or feel terrible about something

⌈ taeyong

— motto: we’ll take good care. enjoy the pleasure.

he’s the type of boyfriend who will ask you about things he missed out on while he was busy

things um from the internet

while mark literally knows that one by heart already taeyong will ask you things like what the wellerman song is

and you thought it would be something nsfw

i got you fooled

did we forget that the man literally watched nct memes on youtube

taeyong is both even more 18+ than you think but also even more innocent than you think it’s complicated

this man is just hard to describe he’s so different, i mean every person is unique but he’s an original it’s the extra mile you know

anyway

sea shanties

bopping to it all day since he just heard it 

singing it while he prepares dinner based on a youtube recipe video as he often does

he’s the most adorable person ever ever ever

asking you why shanties are back in fashion 

(good question, requires a deeper sociocultural analysis i reckon)

planning to remix one for his soundcloud lmao i kid you not

maybe your favorite shanty 

featuring fast-pace rap and all

creating his own previously unknown phrases and shit like that you know him

palazzo rocco lemon detox flashbacks

he’s hilarious i swear

taeyong will produce his own shanties for you can you imagine

as he says: my happiness is your happiness

watch out he will drop a shanty music video with extra krumping moves

taeyong is a never-ending source of pure crack

prepare to laugh a lot like, a lot lot

how can a man who seemingly has such a serious outlook on life and such a bonkers kinda face be so lighthearted

it’s like he’s peter pan or something

especially since he has to manage like over 20 brats in nct his cutesy behavior towards you as his gf will stand out to you

yeah so to be clear we all know he’s the cute one in the relationship

and guess who wears the pants

that’s always you ma’am don’t deny it

or wait 

not for long actually because they come off um physically

but not metaphorically

because who doesn’t wanna sit on his face tbh

your favorite reserved spot

he loves it

taeyong has such a thing for your body it’s ridiculous

mister lee got a sexy mama

and you have such a thing for the gloriousness that is him

but neither of you will not admit it as openly as other people would think

all there is... is being flustered

baekhyun probably has to play some cupid now and then

and give you some ideas

like gifting taeyong plushies and things like that

baekhyun knows what taeyong is all about so the advice is very welcome

but most things you find out for yourself

by being a little braver with him you know

you walking around naked in the apartment or basically fresh out the shower with nothing but a towel

will shake up taeyong so immensely, he will back himself against a wall without you even pinning him there lmao!

jeez he’s so deep into kinky stuff but easily shook anyway

i quote him again: “born to be cute, i dunno!”

you can imagine the overwhelm when you rub yourself against him like it’s nobody’s business

it’s so much fun to give taeyong a regular horny meltdown not gonna lie

this man was grinding his whole body all over the superm stage and now he’s basically freezing up and drooling

how many denied and ruined orgasms he’s gonna get, so much overstimulation all the way  

you’ll lose count of it

and just how wet you’re gonna be

is a thing for the history books

taeyong isn’t such a big deal in nct for no reason god gave him every talent 

so great sex is obviously in his repertoire

i think you’re gonna break some records for most fucks per week

you know... guys like lucas taemin kai and baekhyun spend more time wooing and teasing and flirting

but taeyong gets down to business

one glance is enough

⌈ lucas

— motto: the hottest couple around.

ah, big boy

you really got this man’s attention

doing nothing much at all really

he probably just saw you walking around talking to friends

carrying an impossibly huge veggie burger munching and enjoying yourself after going on a jog

yeah boy that’s how you catch his eye

they say love begins in the stomach and that is the true meaning

or the nose, your food smells really good, lucas is going crazy, he’s seeing stars and shit

anyway

the towering burger isn’t the only thing he wants

lucas cannot get you out of his mind no matter how much he tries to distract himself 

with more good food, movies, games

fooling around with wayv or the superm maknaes, and working out

he’s admittedly... a little himbo head over himbo heels with you the feels got to him

he’s not gonna say it’s a date he’s just gonna invite you just because

to hang out in the kitchen while taeyong cooks and baekhyun comes up with the idea to play twister

imagine lucas with his long arms and legs bending himself all over the place

fighting with kai who almost crashed his shoulders into taemin who avoided the accident quickly

making you lose a round

obviously lucas will hustle until your team wins

mostly because he’s so tall and baekhyun is so small which is a huge advantage when stacking each other over the map

let’s just face it baekhyun only suggested this game to bite everyone’s butts and to see you have skinship with lucas

which is definitely a successful plan of the leader

yukhei is in paradise 

jumping around his room like an oversized bunny after you went home

don’t lie, you fell hard for him as well he’s just such a presence

emotionally, physically

a gentle but persistent giant

he’ll do anything to make your relationship happen once he knows you’re interested

if there’s someone meant to be a boyfriend it’s gotta be him come on

he will cave in after a while and admit he can’t just forget about you 

not gonna lie

your ex is gonna be shaking in his ratty boots

his poor eyes will literally jop from their unexpecting sockets

when he sees lucas hanging out with you

with his shining blonde hair and tall stature, that perfect shapely body, with great fashion on top of that

looking like your guardian angel

man, xuxi really does

pulling you out of your slump that’s been going on for months

and bringing back smiles and a good time he knows how to do that best

and big big hugs of course

you can imagine how soothing and grounded it feels with such huge arms around you

he will make sure that feeling is always there when you need it

because you deserve that treatment

which means he will come over very very often

yeah get ready for how yukhei is a lot more driven than you think just dial and he will be there

underneath the meme surface is someone very determined who really really wants you

yukhei is chaotic good incarnate but in that area he isn’t messing around

his brain is like: “gotta be with her”

on repeat

he must call you, he literally can’t sleep without tying loose ends together as quickly as possible

no second wasted with this guy, even far down the relationship timeline

i really pity your ex 

i mean someone dating any superm member would drive their former partner completely nuts 

but lucas is a special case

he has that kind of look and aura that makes other guys dig themselves into the ground like wiggling worms or cope by fanboying over him

i don’t wanna make this sound like a competition and yet — congrats on your noodly blondie boyfriend alright

⌈ mark

— motto: two nerds in love.

how to explain this. mark is a perfect balance of a lover, a talker, and a shy bean

with a tendency toward bean

and flicking the bean

you know

cutting right to the chase are we

mark is very invested in pleasing you as good as he can

and defeating his awkwardness

because if we know one thing it’s that he always strives to become better and better like he can’t help it

and isn’t afraid of almost biting off more than he can chew

how many subunits is he part of at this point is it gonna be nct hollywood as well god dangit

back to the point mark doesn’t treat relationships and sex as something static which is a good and rare thing

he does his best and always looks for room to improve

while being very nervous, very bilingual, it takes two languages or more to express what he thinks about you let that sink in

that’s very shaky first date sex while being extremely in love with each other

lucky you

and an afterglow where he plays the guitar for you

that’s so nice 

he can play it while laying down and shit

while singing

not rapping, actual full-fledged serenading

we’ve heard how that sounds in the relay cam

are you dating some kind of teenage heartthrob or something huh

mark will make it very clear he’ll stick around, this bad bitch is here to stay

or actually, he’s a good bitch, don’t misunderstand

mark doesn’t have a lot of edgy in him unless rap is concerned

he’s the kinda guy to get lost in IKEA with 

having a good time 

as often as his schedule permits

you really have to make use of your time together 

this man might as well the busiest idol out there

and you are no different because birds of a feather

you’re both mr. and ms. independent 

out and about very often

so meeting up becomes something special during comeback season

or wait mark always has a comeback going on

which is a double-edged sword but something you both know you signed up for 

which is why you spend a lot of time around NCT dream, 127, and SuperM 

sm’s publicity agents have to work extra hard i’m telling you

a dating rumor is the last thing both of you would need

since you befriend several members you gotta stay on the low as well

but hey the rage of jealous people of the public is nothing compared to the force of nature that is yuta nakamoto

who seriously thinks himself threatened and robbed

in case you are feeling possessive as well...

...you might have to fistfight yuta

to be able to be with mark

who is basically property of osaka at this point

yuta is a scorpio that’s just the way it is

unlike taeyong who wishes his rap buddy the best, yuta kinda wants to be mark’s wingman and see him date, live his best life

but also have mark for himself to fawn over and to adore, to be fascinated by

we get it yuta. bisexual struggles. very understandable

you have to promise in person that mark doesn’t forget about the holy gaming nights with yuta 

which is hilarious since that’s not up to you but mark’s memory

bestie, yuta uses everyone as a scapegoat don’t sweat it too much

regardless you put a weekly reminder on the fridge

so the roaring lion yuta would be pacified

he doesn’t want to lose his sweetheart can you blame him

the ultimate but also most risky solution is obviously inviting yuta for movies 

which will be appreciated but also cause a storm

mark will definitely break a sweat when you start a popcorn war or try to prove who hugs mark the best 

caught in the middle of mayhem is mark lee’s specialty what did you expect

this either ends with murder or a chaotic open relationship down the line

yuta really is attached but who wouldn’t be

it could be worse mark has double the love you know 

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you wanna know why i’m your candy?

baby tell me are you ridin’?

in fair verona where we lay our scene...

that baekhyun always wants to woo you — his way, which proves to be very interesting to say the least — is never hard to miss

putting in effort is mochi default mode 

no matter what stage of the relationship you’re in

he might as well regularly serenade you under your balcony in the backyard just because

probably singing ‘baby we can stay up’ and wiggling his ass in all directions because he’s a dirty boy gone wild

yeah. nowadays romeo is twerking instead of feuding with tybalt

that’s good for him and everyone involved

you in particular because you get some very racy eye candy

you know how baekhyun is

at least nobody’s around seeing him put on an 18+ show like that

your little guy is one unhinged fella

if it starts pouring he will grind up and down the next lantern and belt out ‘singing in the rain’

you bet he can do some actual pole dance

he’s strong and bendy you know

and loves to gyrate his whole bag of bones like... he wants to hit you with all the body rolls

in the rain

what a freaky man

but hey you wanna stay up for sure 

doesn’t take long until you beckon him to come upstairs

where the only way to alleviate him of his wet clothes—

oh well he has those roger rabbit vibes and you can’t be mad at it

he will play off all his hormonal antics

baekhyun is hilarious

and so perverted, he can keep up with your spicy idea of playing patty-cake don’t worry

how do i know you’re an extra nsfw kinda person?

who else would like baekhyun

he says juicy things all the time

and does juicy things

yes. finally a couple on eye level indeed. 

when baekhyun asks are you ridin’ you ask how hard 

bruh

this is gonna be fun

and remember

beside handing you sacks of money

his priority is always to make you smile

i’m kidding about the bags but

baekhyun is so rich it’ll show in your relationship, but he’s more about the interactions with you rather than the lifestyle

baekhyun didn’t hustle for a bentley he hustled to sing and get out of sm alive alright

financial stability: important

luxury: very nice to have, he can make you the presents you want to have and travel a lot together

but smiles: baekhyun priority

because he so badly wants to know you love him and adore him, he sometimes feels so insecure

of course you do

you always reassure him with your reactions

it’s very important to him don’t underestimate it

baekhyun has always been talking about his ideal type in terms of how he can cheer her up

so even the naughtiest sexy time evenings are gonna be filled with all giggles

anyway other than that your pussy will be dripping

because this guy is as horny as all other members of super m combined

and you have your ways of leaving him tongue-tied and wrists-tied

taemin’s impact

superm isn’t short of bondage supplies we all know that

so yeah. shibari baekhyun is gonna happen

since he does pilates imagine what kinda shapes you can bend this lil guy into

and take some pictures

privé is in trouble 

bondage model baekhyun is bursting onto the scene

you might even run a risque blog that features cropped pictures with him

heh — you think people will recognize him by his body?

nope

first: you only upload HD pictures that aren’t whitewashed

baekhyun is basically never photographed like that

second: who expects baekhyun to be featured on a bdsm blog with his girlfriend

and this is the guy that drives you around in his expensive car with his big black shades on 

well what can i say

nothing is the way it seems

⌈ taemin

— motto: i’ll unfold a whole new world for you.

taemin is cocky, he’s sensual, and: a very smiley person as we know

least boring relationship ever

he will prance toward you whenever he can to involve you in cuddles

touch-starved taemin is a thing

kkoong can tell you about it, he needs kisses and embraces so often

might as well pepper him with it no problem

and put him into your oversized sweaters when he eats ice cream on the sofa, watching movies, and you brush his ever-growing hair

he’s smol he’s gonna fit into them don’t worry

and on the other hand he likes a rough and tough girl who thinks of him like a boy toy

who acts tsundere or like his bodyguard

working out almost daily to the point of sweat all over

a gal probably able to pretzel minho lucas and chanyeol into one giant bundle

taemin truly has the taste of a divo

multi-layered as always

so you couldn’t say the relationship is always the same in sentiment, the vibe of the dynamic could be different every day

we love a complex man

what would be volatile to others is actually an advantage up close

because taemin understands every difficult facet of himself and his partner 

even if those facets might be contradictory

or something that’s felt shameful about

he will accept and listen anyway

the same goes for getting what drives you

taemin is like a walking psychology velvet couch with fancy swirls as arm rests

point is he isn’t fooled by the surface of the world

he knows what has to be known

which also means your looks aren’t the part he prioritizes

and not even outward personality and habit is what he’s drawn to

it’s the mentality and values underneath

that’s true compatibility to him and he can feel it

he’s really really smart

and also finds it important that you get along with shinee and superm, that you think they’re nice to be around and vice versa

especially kai as taemin’s absolute bearly bestie. if kai thinks you’re shady and you don’t like kai either

or if you’re permanently super awkward and taemin’s moodmaking doesn’t help

we have a problem

but fair enough

kai and taemin are basically one soul at this point so if taemin likes you jongin does anyway 

bff telepathy

in fact jongin was probably the one introducing you to taemin lmao!

because he knows you go well together instinctively and he is correct

so not to worry then

and it’s good on taemin to think longterm and not see you as a person outside of social interaction y’know

cough cough he thinks about marriage, you might be ms. lee one day

here he goes again taemin is just very mature seeing you as well-rounded in every aspect of life

without letting his dick make the important decisions at the detriment of making this a relationship of two lives not just two bodies only

but obviously don’t assume taemin is no horny devil. we all know he dreams of the freakiest scenarios and fantasies in this whole group

going kinda crazy about the thought of making you cum which he always wants to try with new methods

which occupies his mind more than a big bowl of super spicy noodles which is taemin’s favorite meal so

at the same time taemin junior is definitely the same clingy attention whore as his sparkly owner

limp wrists from all the handjobs on your side

and very swollen lips from giving all that head on his side

this is gonna be interesting

he puts the 6v6 in 69

equals 69v69 am i right

but i’m serious that’s gonna be a lot of oral action

you definitely ask each other about having sex very often, daily if you have the time and find a nice spot

and how on earth do both of you keep your hands off each other sleeping in one bed

taemin is touchy as hell with no shyness, and you squish squeeze and grope this guy like the mochi he is

ah when things go both ways

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[a-slut-for-smut]

002 | for ereannie? ^^

OOO this is a good one! I actually been wanting to explore what draws me to this ship, so thanks for sending :D

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them:

Definitely that training scene where Annie wipes the fking floor with Eren- seriously when i saw that scene i was like OH HOHOHO N O I C E

Something about a woman so effortlessly handing an overconfident man his ass just tickles the ovaries so splendidly, ya know? i could (and will) dine on that scene for years to come, i mean, let's be honest- how could you not:

My thoughts:

Full disclosure i'm not a hardcore ereannie shipper (altho i do crush HARD on Annie) but this is my preferred pairing for each of them, especially from the start. I just love a ship dynamic where both characters plays a huge role in each other's development, shared parallels and shown to have a mutual respect for one another. Honestly, if Eren had shown even a fraction of respect he had for Annie to Mikasa it would have made the ending much more palatable for me. Also I am so WEAK for ships where the women could very easily whoop the man's ass, just love the power dynamics involved lol. Admittedly my fervor for the ship waned when Isayama in his infinite wisdom kept Annie stuck in a crystal for 84 years/out of the story, and with the Return to Shiganshina/Marley arc i bought into Erehisu/Eren's baby theory because...well, it made perfect sense given logical character motivations and their development.

What makes me happy about them:

My headcanon of how Annie will time and again beat the crap out of Eren and he freakin McLoves it (he asks for it honestly) XD

What makes me sad about them:

How they didn't have any interaction in the ending/Marley arc. And as with most characters in SNK, it was upsetting how their characters ended up, development-wise. Annie brought back more like an afterthought but had no real service to the plot and ultimately just becomes a female love interest in the end. Eren...jesus i dont even know where to begin so i wont lol

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I'll be honest- i haven't read exclusively ereannie fics, what ive read is usually them as a secondary ship in a RM fic. In this instance, I would say one thing i dont generally vibe with so much is infidelity/cheating- its not something i can condone in real life and i have a mutual respect kink so it kinda takes me out of a fic/hard for me to invest fully in that kind of story.

Things I look for in fanfic:

hot steamy smut! (with explicit consent of course)

My wishlist:

I really wish they had an explicit interaction in the end. To think how much Annie contributed to Eren's character (and vice versa) and not having them say one word to each other? What a waste. (i know he "supposedly" spoke to her in PATHS but that whole sequence seemed pretty ehhh/hand-wavey to me honestly). Even Annie having one line/POV during the titan fest brawl would have sufficed- "Eren...was this who you were all along? I could never imagine you could ever be capable of this..." etc etc

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

As i mentioned above, to me Eren with Historia made complete sense given how the manga was progressing/logical motivations/their shared parallels not to mention the character development potential for both was through the roof.

I really vibe with AnnieHitch and Mikannie- i love their dynamic with each other, respectively. I dont mind Aruani (even tho him visiting her alone repeatedly and her having no choice in the matter can come off a bit…creepy...but hey isayama’s warped sense of romance rears it’s questionable head again) BUT i love how Hitch calls him out on it XD

Anyway I think i'd like it better if Annie wasn't brought back to essentially become a female love interest :/

My happily ever after for them:

Honestly...just an ending where their characters aren't completely butchered *sighs*

Actually...on second thought an ending where Annie personally whoops Eren's ass into the next dimension/PATHs or whatever (and he thanks her for it comes to his senses) because i am a whore for those kind of scenes XD

Thanks again for the ask! Happy to answer more :)

[waywardimpalawriter]

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

With Marcus Pike? Maybe BFFs to lovers because I want it to end happy? Thank you 🙏

Love of his life

Pairing: Marcus Pike x best friend!Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Pike,

Setting: five years after the last episode Marcus was in.

Rating: PG:13

Warnings: 2,774

Summary: Conversation overheard leads to feelings of regret at the chance not taken. Will he take that risk and go for who he wants or let it slide away just like the past?

Word count:

Notes: Written for the lovely @hnt-escape asking for the prompt “I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.” Will be in bold in the story. I hope you enjoy sweetie.

Tag List:

Forever tags: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Pedro Pascal tags: @evyiione

Staring into the caramel colored liquid ceramic mug warming your hands, thoughts clouded by a certain brown eyed man and how to handle the feelings you’ve harbored since grade school.

“Trying to divine this weeks lotta numbers from you coffee sweetie?” Soothing southern accented voice breaks through the fog smile in the sweet lilt.

Head snapping up to look towards the blonde, grin firmly in place over her ruby lips, “I wish, would donate at least half to research the antiquities we have that no one’s cataloged yet.”

“Wow devoted,” chuckling, walking over to the Keurig k-cup spinner to pluck the last Colombian dark roast pod. “What or should I say who’s on that gorgeous your mind that’s got your brow furrowed deeper than the Mariana Trench?”

Not wishing to discuss your thoughts right now, you deflect to ask, “Those things waste so much Donna and bad for the environment. Why don’t you just buy the bulk grounds?”

“Great way to keep from answering the true question,” baby blues lock, sincerity written deep and meaningful. Knowing she’s only trying to help having confided many times your dilemma those feelings you’ve held on to for so long brings about. “I don’t know why you haven’t told him sugar I mean you came to DC…”

“For this job Donna, Marcus turned up later… not much later,” last few words muttered into cooling coffee you try to hide behind while taking a sip. “I didn’t upheave my life for a man,” not sure who you’re trying to convince more yourself or Donna.

Established in your position at the museum a month before Marcus’s transfer and at the time he’s heavily invested with one Teresa Lisbon. Memories flood through like film reel before your eyes. Of that very night he comes to you heartbroken bags in hand with no one beside him and no real place to go. Promising yourself to shove your feelings aside and help him get back on steady legs. Even letting him stay till his place became ready to move in.

Loud snort greets your ears, breaking you from memory lane. “You keep telling yourself that and while you’re at it keeping him friend zoned when your clearly in love with him does neither one of you any good. He ain’t gonna wait around forever sugar trust me on that one,” hurt coloring her tone speaking volumes of her own pain. She looks away to watch the final drops of coffee land in her mug. You know exactly why she’s not looking at your right now, the hurt she tries to hide behind the bubbly personality. Fixing her coffee up just the way she likes to hide her own pain she’s shared a few times.

“How,” licking your lips slowly, mug placed beside you on the counter to clasp your hands in front of you. “I’m not even sure how or where to start Donna. He’s my best friend knows me inside and out I don’t…”

“Do you love him?” Simple question with no easy answer as grey blue eyes land on and pierce you with their intensity.

“I…” wringing those hands her question chases thoughts around your head. Finally giving the heart answer, “I love him, just unsure if he loves me in the same way. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to change the dynamics of our relationship and loose what we have for a what if.”

“Oh sweetheart I know it’s not easy to bank on what if’s but trust me when I say that man loves you in ways I’ve never seen and I’ve seen a lot.” Giving you a teasing wink then sobering, “Why do ya think I haven’t tried to snag him up myself?”

“Cause he’s not your type?” Joke sounding stupid to your own ears, glaze dropping to your shoes. “What if… what if I’m not his type? I mean you’ve seen the women he’s gone out with before. I’m hardly in the same league.”

“No your in a league of your own sugar.” Head nodding in understanding Donna comes over resting a hand on your bicep giving a gentle squeeze. “Compensating maybe even trying to replace the one he truly wants sweetheart. Don’t let a good man slip away especially since you love him.”

“I do, he’s,” head shaking at a loss for words to describe Marcus. “Amazing and sweet, the kind of man that’s so easy to love and care for. I’m lost truly without him.” Happy tears blur your vision for a moment thinking about him. How he’s always at your side just when you need him without notice at times. Sixth sense when you need those late night pancakes from the best diner in town. Watching old movies after a crappy break up, snuggled together with popcorn and beer, snacks of all kinds. Snap shot of his face filters across your vision, “I’m gonna tell him in fact,” glancing down at your watch finding end of day fast approaching. “Would you close down for me Donna I need to tell him now before loosing my nerve.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice sugar go get your man,” nodding towards the doorway you start for, coffee long forgotten in favor of someone more sweeter. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“There’s things you wouldn’t do?” Cheeky grin highlighting your features, the sound of crinkling plastic reaching your ears so you look down. Frown replacing the smile at finding a small bouquet of blue tipped carnations laying on the ground. Bending to scoop up the beautiful flowers knowing only one man would’ve brought these. “Shit,” curse flying from your mouth while your feet start to eat up the distance towards the back doors bouquet held firmly in your grasp.

Missing Donna yelling about your keys and belongings, to not forget about the storm rumbling in the background. Wide smile forming watching you go hoping you’ll catch Marcus just in time.

While you pray with each step taken you’ll catch him in time to explain. Thoughts running rampant wondering what he heard and didn’t. If the reason for the dropped flowers has to do with the fact he thinks you love someone else. That last thought spurs you on into a run, thankful for the flats you wore today instead of customary heels you normally wear. Eating up the distance you burst through the back doors into a curtain of rain meeting your eyes as more curses fly from your lips. You pause eyes narrowing through the gloom looking for Marcus’s car, his back, hair surely plastered to against his head. Something to point you in the right direction. At the right moment a flash of lighting illuminating the darken skies, makes you jump but press on determined to find him. While stepping out into the pouring rain, clothes soaked through low rumblings of thunder taking your calls out for Marcus away with the howling wind.

Tears form and slide down cool cheeks, still franticly looking around but coming up empty till you catch the flash of grey out of your periphery. Whipping around you head in the direction calling out his name praying there’s a break in the rain so your voice carries to his ears.

And for a moment that one split second he catches a sound other than the storm raging around him. Sweet desperate voice calling out his name, giving him pause in dragging footsteps. Looking around but seeing nothing but the driving rain, drops soaking his suit and blurring his vision. Before turning to resume his path the voice calls out again, nearer and stronger than the last time.

His doubts cloud the mind, accusing him of hearing things the wind brings from other parts of the parking lot. Till a vision dressed in black slacks, creamy silk blouse, hair and clothes plasters to your body appears in front of him. Hand raised in the vain attempt to keep the rain from your face as you search for him.

Eyes lock surprised deep chocolate orbs meet the relief in yours, “You’re gonna get sick sweetheart go back inside.”

“No,” single word yelled out as you near Marcus, gripping his bicep and moving closer to speak into his ear. Warm breath making him shiver despite the cold rain trying to drown the both of you. “Why’d you leave?”

“Saw you busy didn’t want…” shaking your head Marcus swallows catching sight of the flowers in your free hand.

“You dropped these why?” Hurt lacing the tone in your voice as you bring the small plastic wrapped bundle up between you. “Thank you.”

Eyes dart between the flowers and your eyes unsure how to answer your question as so many of his own chase around his mind. Wanting the truth Marcus gather’s his courage to ask, “Do you love him?”

Confusion coats your veins, drawing up your brows with the same emotion till it clicks. “Yes, very much in fact you just doesn’t know it.”

“I’m done,” pain etched into his voice heart aching behind its prison of bone and flesh. Misunderstanding the look in your eyes and the words your spoke. “I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction. I just can’t do it anymore it’s so much worse than any of the other.” Taking two steps back from your touch that sears the skin under heavy suit jacket and starch white cotton dress shirt. Gaze dropping to concrete unable to look into your eyes a second longer knowing he’s lost the chance. Internally cursing himself for waiting so long, letting other’s in his heart when the one woman he’s wanted all along stood by him through all life’s ups and downs.

Frowning at the loss of touch, his words sinking in you step forward he matches with one back. “Marcus,” soft achingly tender voice reaches out towards him. Heard now the rain has slowed to light drizzle. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you? Not as a brother or best friend, but in love with you.”

“What?” Single word choked off on a gasp, eyes reaching your smiling orbs trying to find the jest. Only seeing genuine love backed by worry and fear that he doesn’t truly have the same feelings. “You never told me.”

“You didn’t tell me either Pike so we’re kinda in the same boat,” carefully reaching out for his nearest hand tugging him back towards you. “So many times I’d try to tell you, to explain, to see if there’s a chance for us. Every time someone else got my shot. I gave up almost for good this time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Moving closer, warm palm coming up to cup your cheek from apple to jawline. Thump brushing slowly over soft delicate skin drowning in your eyes as you rubbing your cheek into his large palm. “Never would’ve guess you felt the same way.”

Not sure how to answer the first question, so you joke instead. “Not only good at picking out a fake piece of art but putting on a good show.” Trying to infuse a little lightheartedness into the tense moment. “Gonna call Oscar see if they’ll give me one of those little golden guys for my performance. Not Ingrid Bergman worthy but I can hold my own,” nervous little laugh leaving your lips that Marcus brushes his thumb over the bottom lip. Stuck dumb by the action breath shallow before held while trying to depict the emotions running through those sweet brown eyes. “Say some Marcus.”

The tremor in your voice shakes the shocked cobwebs from his mind to focus his thoughts. Picking up that you haven’t answered his first question, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Which time?” Breathy sigh leaving your mouth as you try to gather the right words. “Not to mention your my best friend Marcus I didn’t want to fuck that up especially if you didn’t feel the same way,” taking a breath fresh rain mixes with the warm subtle cologne Marcus wears. “Couldn’t risk loosing you and changing our relationship for a what if.”

“And now?” Cupping the other side of your face, keeping your chin tilted upward, eyes searching the depths of yours. Finding the peace he’s missed out on with everyone who came before. Home written in your embrace, sweet light flora scent wrapping around his senses reminding him of just who he needs.

Swallowing, pink tongue coming out to wet your lips, a path he follows with rapt attention. “I recently became enlightened by a good friend reminding me sometimes you need to take those chances.” Both arms wrap around his neck, flowers still clutched tightly, free hand carding through rain soaked strands at the back of his head. Blunt nails scratching gently over Marcus’s neck receiving a shiver that vibrates through your body and has nothing to do with the cool air or wet clothing.

“And you want to take that leap with me?” Inching closer with barely a millimeter’s breath between your lips. Eyes still wide open assuring each other and finally showing the truth and need.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful love affair,” cheeky smile splitting your face at the crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. Knowing full well you’ve gotten the quote wrong on purpose.

“Here’s looking at you kid,” deepened voice sending tingles of excitement racing down your spine. Slightest brush of his chapped lips to yours bringing a sigh and parting your mouth that’s captured and devoured.

Angling your head just right as he licks into your sweet coffee tasting mouth mixing the minty freshness of his. Low groan whispers between your lips, which moves and changes. Nibbling his bottom lip, slipping your tongue over the bruised skin to sooth before sliding back into the warm cavern of his delectable mouth. Dreams having no merit on the real kiss that makes your toes curl a moan of your own existing to join with the groan he’s let loose. Air becoming much needed and you part to rest foreheads together.

“I love you to have for a long time,” admitting his feelings frees a part of him held back for so long. “I’m sorry for all the missed opportunities but if you’ll let me I’ll make them all up to you.”

“Start by taking me home to change then out for pancakes,” bright smile blooming over your lips that press into his. Unable to stop yourself from giving another tender kiss while wrapping your arms around his shoulders tighter. “And kisses lots more kisses,” mumbling the words into his mouth while initiating another kiss for emphasis.

Only breaking when someone clears their throat you both turn to see Donna standing there with your purse in hand. “No making out in the parking lot you two take it home,” grinning extending your purse towards you. “Just remember don’t do anything I would,” before turning to start back towards the museum. “Congratulations by the way took y’all long enough.”

“There’s things you’d do I wouldn’t Donna,” you call after her shaking your head before looking back up at Marcus. Catching the look burning in his eyes, “I’m guessing pancakes won’t happen tonight huh?”

Soft smirk slides over those kiss swollen lips, “Later but right now I have other plans.” Tugging you against his chest for one last deep drugging kiss that leaves you weak kneed and panting.

“Care to share those plans?” Snuggling into his arms as you both head the last short distance to his car.

Opening then crowding you into the corner of the door hands braced on either side to lean in placing a soft chase kiss to your cheek. “Making up for all the missed time and then later,” pausing to brush his lips over your ear. Whispering the last words with gentle puffs of air floating across your skin. “I’ll make you those pancakes and lick the syrup from your lips afterwards and any other place you’ll let me.”

“Only if you’ll let me return the flavor,” mischievous smile stretching across your lips, ducking under his arms to slide into the car. Finding him still standing there, you tug on his jacket gaining his attention.

Darken eyes meet yours, “I’ll even paint you like one of my French girls,” sending you a playful wink while closing the car door and running around to the drivers side. Marcus slides in, key slipping into ignition, simple flick of his wrist the car flares to life and he’s backing out heading for home and a new start filled with promise.

[takaraphoenix]

Three Crows and a Goat

Fandom: Shadow and Bone / Grishaverse

Tags: m/m, character introspect, kind of fluff, jealousy, Asexual Kaz

Main Pairing: Kaz/Jesper

Summary: Kaz Brekker wasn't an emotional man, at least not when it came to expressing his emotions. He rather showed it. Like by getting his partner an Emotional Support Goat.

Links: On AO3 / On FFNet

--

Kaz Brekker wouldn't consider himself a emotional man. That wasn't to say he didn't have emotions; he simply preferred not to broadcast them, or to say them out loud. He was a controlled man, a man who always had control – over himself, his emotions, any situation at hand.

He had been informed that while that made him brilliant at his job, it made him questionable at best as a romantic partner. He wasn't one for physical signs of affection either. Human touch came... hard to him. Very rarely and only with those he truly trusted and loved. So any touch at all was already a huge sign of his affections. Still, when his eyes would wander and he saw other couples, hanging all over each other, constantly touching. It made his skin crawl. And it on occasion woke a strange sense of guilt – not an emotion Kaz experienced too often.

His partner didn't mind. He knew Kaz, knew who Kaz was – and that was who Jesper loved. The whole package, all of it, all of him. Baggage, quirks, issues and all. They had found their own ways of handling some things; Kaz' dislike of touch extended to a sexual level. It wasn't something he desired, even though he was close to Jesper, close enough to touch him on occasions, in reassurance, gently. Not sexually. For long, he had thought those two were linked, the same; he disliked touch, so of course did the thought of touching someone intimately not sit right with him. It was only after he had... fallen in love, that he had come to realize that these two things were not entirely the same, because even when he felt the urge to touch Jesper, it was never in such a manner.

And even that, Jesper was okay with. He'd had such a soft look on his face when he had assured Kaz of that. Yet Kaz knew Jesper was a sexual creature, he was a physical person. And so they had come to an agreement, regarding that. As long as it was purely sex – no emotion, no repeats, no personal details exchanged – Jesper was free to lay with whoever he liked.

On occasion, very rare occasions, Kaz found himself doubtful. Doubtful whether this was enough for Jesper. Because Jesper was not like Kaz – he was an emotional person. He was expressive in his emotions. Affectionate. Perhaps not in the traditional sense either, but still.

All of these factors culminated in Kaz Brekker, feared and respected throughout all of Ketterdam, carrying a fluffy baby goat through the streets. If any of his enemies could see him now-

He tried to carry the fluffy baby goat with as much dignity as he could, but there was very little dignity in carrying a fluffy baby goat. The only thing that kept him going was knowing what the goat was for. He knew both Jesper and Inej had thrown him suspicious and surprised looks when he had volunteered to get the goat; that was a job far beneath Kaz Brekker. There was a reason.

Because Kaz was not too good at showing his emotions. And because Jesper was very expressive in showing what he was feeling at all times. And because Kaz knew what the goat was for.

/break\

On the train, seeing Jesper just completely lose it and have a meltdown, Kaz knew most other partners would have gone over there to comfort him personally, hold him close in a tight, soothing embrace. Kiss him, hold him, make him feel safe. Kaz knew how to do the last of those and on occasions the first two, but this was different. This was on a different level.

"I need you to calm down. Hug the goat, shut the hell up!"

At first, Jesper looked startled. Him and Inej had both suspected the goat to be bait, to be a sacrifice if push came to shove. With furrowed brows did Jesper pick up the goat and gently caress it before hugging it tightly. Kaz could hear him whisper a startled so soft before he wrapped himself around the small furred creature. Fully and completely wrapped around the goat.

Kaz sat stiff, watching with wary eyes. Watching the gentle touch as Jesper caressed the fur, buried his face in the goat's neck, hugging it with both arms. The longer he hugged the goat, the more he calmed down. Physical contact soothed him. This comforted him. And Kaz knew that. He also knew he wouldn't be comfortable trading places with the goat, being hugged with so much intensity, two arms wound tightly, face buried in a neck, full body contact. The thought was overwhelming.

And so Kaz Brekker had gone and organized a goat. A small, soft goat. The one the woman he had gotten it from had assured him was the cutest of the goats. So Jesper would have something, something soft and warm and reassuring. Something to hug.

Perhaps Kaz was not the typical kind of partner, perhaps he couldn't offer Jesper the same things others could. But he was Kaz Brekker and he knew how to make the things he could do count.

The smirk spreading over his lips was pleased and satisfied as he watched his partner calm down enough to get up and get his gun out and shoot with pure, raw precision at any danger threatening them from the outside.

/break\

Kaz ran his hands over his cane. Over the mended parts. It was a love-language in itself, the way Jesper had fixed the cane. Theirs was a subtle way of showing each other their affection, but that did not make it any less strong. Like his hands, his eyes wandered. They were on a ship, about to leave for Ketterdam again. Return home. This mission had been a huge failure all around. Perhaps not a full failure, considering they had seen the 'saint' with their own eyes. Had seen the Sun Summoner, the light, the power, the... miracle. Kaz was not a believer, yet did religion not stop being religion when it was physical and graspable? The girl sitting opposite him was not some fabled saint in some religious tomb to be prayed at. She was no Sun Summoner or Sankta Alina, she was a lost girl. She was a lost girl, a scared girl, as he had seen so many before in his life.

The supposed saint sat between her friend and Inej. Inej, who had barely been able to tear her eyes off Alina since they had met her. There was awe and wonder in Inej's eyes, in a way Kaz had never seen before. Even as she was speaking with Jesper, she could hardly look away from Alina.

"The friends we made along the way."

Kaz quirked an eyebrow at that, looking more intensely at Mal and Alina. They truly expected to keep those two, didn't they? No. Lost girl or not, Kaz wasn't in the habit of keep every stray they met. Though, admittedly, he did invest in one of a kind and there was probably nothing more unique than the Sun Summoner herself. It would make Inej happy, that was for sure.

"I'm talking about Milo," clarified Jesper indignantly when Alina looked to be getting a big head.

"Who's Milo?" wanted Mal to know, confusion all over his face.

It was Inej who rolled her eyes, albeit affectionately. "No one you need to concern yourselves with."

That only made Jesper look even more offended. The goat was supposed to serve one purpose; get Jesper through the train ride safely. Instead, he had... grown attached to the animal. Named it. Bonded with it. Kept bringing it up. Kaz Brekker was not a jealous person in nature – he knew what was his and he made sure they were always clear in what that meant. Yet, inexplicably so, he felt jealous of a goat. A ridiculous motion that he most definitely could not allow anyone to know about. What was, perhaps, even more ridiculous was what followed.

"Mister Brekker. Your... special delivery, sir."

Kaz arched an eyebrow and turned toward the voice. "About time. The ship is about to leave."

He put as much displeasure into his words as possible, though he still took the bag of coins from his belt and handed it over to the young woman, in exchange for... a rope. Jesper next to him gasped m a high-pitched manner as he turned and saw what was on the other end of the rope.

"Milo!" Jesper's voice was loud, drawing unwanted attention and earning a pointed glare from Kaz, causing him to immediately drop his voice. "But how—Where-Why? I thought our funds were dwindled, why would you-?"

As he spoke, or rather rambled in broken half-sentences, he picked up the goat, hugging it close and kissing its head. Kaz made a face at that, though subtly so. Though he may not understand why Jesper felt that way about this creature, he knew the goat was making him happy. Otherwise, Jesper would not have kept bringing it up all the time.

"It seemed like a worthy investment," dismissed Kaz shortly.

Inej was hiding a smile and... Mal made a loud sound. "The goat! The goat that helped me escape!"

He lunged forward and started petting the goat too, much to everyone's surprise. "You too? How?"

"There, in that necklace around its neck, was a bullet. I used it to break my chains. To escape. A good boy, aren't you? Such a good boy!" Mal laughed, ruffling the goat's fur.

"His name is Milo and he is the best boy," agreed Jesper eagerly, petting Milo's flank.

"Milo, is it? Pretty boy," Mal was nearly cooing at that. "How do you know him?"

As Jesper launched into a retelling of how they had first crossed the fold, the other three were left simply staring at them. At least Kaz wasn't the only one watching them in mild disturbance. When Kaz turned a little, Alina had taken a seat next to him.

"You two are a very... different couple," whispered Alina curiously.

"I doubt that is any of your business," stated Kaz just a little coldly.

He wasn't one for chitchat either. Though he had to admit, he was mildly impressed that she had picked up on it. Most people who met Kaz and Jesper didn't realize what they were, that they were partners beyond their work. Perhaps there was a potential to Alina, even beyond being a Sun Summoner. She could be useful. Not that he was making any definite decisions, though he had to admit that it would bring Inej joy. And, looking at Jesper and Mal bonding over a goat, all Kaz saw was yet another argument Jesper and Inej would use to try and convince him to keep Mal and Alina.

"This is very thoughtful of you," continued Alina, not minding him, the smallest smile on her lips.

Kaz opted to ignore her. Perhaps then she would go away. Or stop irritating him. She surely seemed to fit in with them, he mused as he looked back toward Jesper, Mal and the goat.

"Oh. Oh, I'll go and find him something to eat," suggested Mal eagerly. "He deserves it."

Jesper handed the rope over to Mal and let the other lead Milo away. Instead, he turned toward Kaz, basically beaming at him. That expression surely was worth the money spent. Kaz swallowed down the smile fighting its way up onto his own lips. No such things, certainly not in public. Instead, he slowly reached out and rested his hand on Jesper's, holding it gently. If possible, the smile on Jesper's lips brightened even more.

~*~ The End ~*~

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch19. Cut Off One Head…

Summary: The Avengers have been tracking Hydra for a number of months now, systematically making their way through each base that their intel provides them…but a routine business trip turns out to be something far more sinister than Katie and Tony were planning for…

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, angst… 18+

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: The next few chapters take a bit of DARK turn…warnings will be detailed. @angrybirdcr​ provided a special banner for these next three chapters, and another wonderful edit...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 18

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 September 2014

“I’m not saying that I’m not open to the idea, I just don’t understand why you think we need to buy the firm.” Katie said for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. Tony glared at her and simply shook his head as he sat waiting in the reception area of the office block in Minnesota. “I’m not even gonna ask what you were doing that kept you up so late you clearly didn’t get enough sleep last night you cranky brat.” Katie rolled her eyes but she felt a small smirk pulling at her lips as she remembered very well the events of last night as Steve had quite frankly lost his shit at the fact she was wearing the new baby blue lace matching underwear set he had bought her just because he wanted to, but she caught herself. “Sleep or lack of, has nothing to do with it. I’m serious, Tony. We don’t need it”. “Investing” he said holding his finger up “building the brand. That’s what business is all about.” She groaned “Thanks for the lesson on running a business, you know, in case I didn’t know how to, but that is NOT the vision I have for SIP.” “Look, you said yourself when this proposal landed on your desk you were curious.” “I am!” She protested, and she was. From the research they had done, the company that had approached them, Hall General Publishers LTD, held the same ideas as SIP, except they focused on Biographies that were published in series magazines. They had reached out to SIP for a potential collaboration on a fiction series that they had been approached to run and felt it was out of their field, but they were keen to see if they could join forces. It had instantly caught Katie’s attention and imagination but as usual Tony had gone off on one and suggested they buy the smaller company out. “I’m curious about their proposal, and the potential to do business, collaborate yes, but not take over!” “Look, it’s a day out of the office, chance to forget about Tin Man and Hydra” Tony shrugged and Katie gave a groan of frustration again. “And their profits are pretty impressive. We can use them, keep their brand…” “Whatever.” She glanced around at the foyer. It was clinical, white, all clean lines. Nothing like the entrance to Stark, sorry Avengers Tower as it was now called .Mind you, that was to be expected from a ‘rent an office’. Eddie Hall, the MD of HGP had requested the meeting take place away from either of their offices to avoid anyone catching news of the potential collaboration and had arranged to hire a room at block some 10 miles outside of Saint Paul. Tony had shrugged when Katie questioned it, saying it wasn’t unusual for people to hire external meeting venues in order to keep things under the radar. “Miss Stark, Mr Stark, I’m so sorry,” the dark haired man hurrying across the foyer said. He was about 6 foot tall, slim, and was wearing a sharp black suit. Both Katie and Tony stood up, Tony extending a hand.

“Mr Hall I presume?”

 “Yes.” The man said, shaking both their hands, his manner flustered. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to ensure the room was ready.”

“It’s only a few minutes.” Katie said smiled at him, “No apologies necessary.”

 They followed him into the elevator and he selected the top floor and turned to the siblings

“Thank you for coming out here. I know the cloak and dagger thing is probably a bit much but I don’t want people getting wind of it. There’s a few changes coming at the company and I don’t want any of them making any assumptions…” “Understandable.” Tony sniffed, looking around the elevator.

They emerged onto the top floor, and he led them left down the corridor. Katie looked around, the whole place smelt of paint and there was decorating equipment dotted around. She frowned. “It’s a new office facility.” Hall explained, looking at her. “Owned by a friend of mine and they’re still kitting it all out. But he said this was the best room to use. It’s mocked up like a board room you see…” Katie nodded and shared a look with Tony, she was starting to feel ever so slightly uneasy. Tony just shook his head and patted his pocket where his trusty Iron gauntlet cuff sat. Neither of them had come with their suits, this was supposed to be a straight forward business meeting after all. But she took a deep breath, she was probably just being over sensitive after everything that had happened recently…

Hall stopped outside a door to the left and opened the room, revealing nothing but darkness. “Oh, sorry,” Hall let out a sigh of frustration, sweeping into the room. “Yes. Let me just… find the lights.” Tony looked at Katie, arching an eyebrow. 

No window? He mouthed at her, his hand slipping into his pocket as they stepped into the room, Katie not quite sure they should be to be honest. “Yes. Here we go,” the man said brightly, flipping on the light and flooding the small room with light as the door slammed shut behind them.

That’s why it didn’t have a window. It was a fucking storage room. And it contained three men in dark suits standing before them, each with a rifle trained on their chests. Katie instantly stopped, drawing a deep breath of shock. Besides her she saw Tony in the corner of her eye quickly move to pull the cuff from the depth of his pocket, but he suddenly stumbled forward and fell immediately, the cuff flying out of his hand as the man they knew as Mr Hall stepped round them both and leaned against the wall to their right.

Katie spun round to see another man to the left and her eyes widened as she instantly recognised him.

“Grant?”  She frowned, looking up at the face of her ex "What… what’s going on? "You know, I thought when you dumped all those files on the internet you might have actually read them.” He smirked, stepping forward and glancing down at Tony who had sat up and was watching him, his face contorted with hatred and rage. Katie swallowed as she took in his words before she shook her head as her eyes grew wide in sudden understanding.

“Heil HYDRA.” Ward’s smile spread further across his face.

The agents around the room started to close in. One of them, a larger built man who reminded her a little of Rumlow spoke in a deep voice.

“This is the one you say we need?” Ward nodded and at that point Tony slowly got to his feet, backing up, placing himself between his sister and the man who is advancing on her, the two of them backing towards the door.

“Need me for what?” Katie said, her voice soft as her back hit the wooden surface.

“Answers.” The large man said, looking bored at Tony’s display of protectiveness.

 “About what?” She said, a bit louder this time.

“Well, you see Kay…” Ward smirked and Katie turned to her left to look at him as Tony emitted a low growl in his throat at the use of his old pet name for her, Ward chuckled before he started again “We’ve had a bit of a problem since you and your boyfriend, sorry fiancée, congratulations on that by the way.” He smiled, and she glared at him in response “Yes, ever since you took down SHIELD, we’ve been a little bit on the back foot, constantly watching our backs, trying to figure out where SHIELD or the Avengers are going to pop up next. So we figured, we needed a bit of inside intel.” The larger officer yanked Katie’s arm and pulled her out from between the door and Tony, flinging her into the middle of the room where another one of the agents grabbed her. Another one stepped quickly in front of her brother, blocking his path to her.

 “Ok, stop…” Tony held his hands up, turning back to Ward and the other man. “If you want someone, take me. I’m more involved in the Avengers anyway…“

His voice was level but Katie could hear a level of desperation.

“Yeah, much as I’d love to take you in for a kicking Tony, the problem is she’s the only one of you who knows he’s alive and what he’s likely to be doing so…” “Knows who is alive?” Tony frowned as Katie swallowed thickly. Coulson, that’s the only person they could be talking about. But before she could say anything one of the agents butt Tony hard in the back of the head with the handle of his gun and he fell to the floor.

 Katie yelled out and started towards him, but the Agent holding her tightened his grip on her arm to the point of it being painful.

 “Now you’re gonna come with us, out of this building, quietly, no fuss and no escape attempts” The big man spoke to her “Otherwise Ward here is gonna put a bullet in your dearest bro’s head.” “And how do I know you’re not gonna do that anyway?” Katie whispered through her tears.

“Because it’s more trouble than its worth.” Ward shrugged. “And frankly, the thought of him alive, worrying about you is far more satisfying.” Katie glanced down at her brother, who was starting to push himself up, until Ward kicked him hard in the ribs and he collapsed, groaning, as Ward hit him on the back of the head again, knocking him out.

“Alright, alright!” She protested, her voice cracking. “I’ll come. Just leave him alone.” She was shoved harshly forward, her heeled feet slipping slightly as the door was pulled open. She stopped suddenly, turning to Ward. “You better watch your back .When Steve and the rest of the team finds out about this you’re a dead man.” Ward chuckled. “Quaking in my boots, Sugar.” She was shoved forward again, and managed one glance over her shoulder at Tony who was sprawled on the floor before she was shoved out of the room.

***** Tony groaned, as he pushed himself up slowly, the room spinning.

 “Kiddo?” he croaked, as he looked around. He was alone, no sign of anyone. He scrambled across the floor, and tried the door which was locked, before he slumped heavily against it, his trembling hands started to feel his suit pockets. His phone was gone, of course, as was his cuff and Katie’s laptop. He lay his head back against the door as he started to piece together what had happened. It was an ambush, Ward…HYDRA…

 Hydra had his sister. For information. About someone no one knew was alive? Were they referring to Fury? He ran his hand over his face again, and was just about to think about screaming in the vain hope they heard him on reception, but he stopped, suddenly. They hadn’t taken his watch.

Thick HYDRA bastards. 

With shaky fingers he pressed the button at the side and the face lit up orange.

 "Yes, sir?“ JARVIS spoke and Tony almost gave a sob of relief before he spoke a simple instruction, all he can think to blurt out before he gives into the throbbing in his head once more.

“Alert Captain Rogers. Send help.”

***** Steve was in the now finished training room with Thor. The pair of them were currently debating if the large room would stand up to them trying out a new move- Thor hitting Steve’s shield with his hammer to create the same wave it had done in the forest that time. It was useful, and Steve was thinking about perfecting it, seeing if it could be directed in anyway.

 “What metal is it made from anyway?”  Steve nodded to Mjolnir as Thor was throwing it up and down.

 “It was forged from the heart of a dying star- Nidevalir…” Thor said, as Steve picked up his shield.

 “It’s made from a star?”

 “No, metal, which was forged by a star.” Thor corrected.

Steve was about to comment that he still hadn’t answered the question when a red light started flashing in the corner of the room, along with a low siren, and Jarvis’ voice cut across them.

“Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has just sent a distress signal.”

 Steve instantly looked at Thor, swallowing slightly. “A distress…they were on a business trip. “I’ve no other details other than to alert you and send help.” There was a loud clap of thunder and Steve turned to see Thor was now clad in his armour and the God nodded at him as the two of them sprinted from the room. Steve’s mouth was dry and his mind was running overtime about what trouble they could possibly be in, but as they headed down the corridor to the armoury he found his voice.

“JARVIS, tell everyone to suit up and meet at the jet, now.” “Of course Captain. I’ve patched the location through to the jet.”

“I’m sure they will be fine.” Thor offered as some attempt at re-assurance. But as Steve shrugged on the top half of his uniform and grabbed his utility belt, he didn’t feel very re-assured.

Maria Hill met them in the hangar “I heard the signal, is everything ok?” “Tony and Katie…” Steve informed her. “They were at a business meeting but Tony just sent out a distress signal.” Maria looked at him and then nodded “I’ll start doing some digging into who they were meeting.”

 He nodded, and strode up the ramp to the jet. They’d been in the air about 30 minutes when Maria patched through to them

 “I don’t know who they were meeting but it isn’t Eddie Hill” she sighed “He was reported missing three days ago by his wife.”

 “So whoever took them got to him first.” Nat looked at Steve. “Took him out, replaced him with an imposter”

“And it’s probably safe to assume he’s dead.” Steve said, flatly. “Hill, start doing some digging. Into Hall…anything that might help.”

“On it Cap.”

It took them approximately another ten minutes to get to the location JARVIS had programmed for them. And it felt like ten years. Ever since receiving the distress call the entire team had been on tenterhooks, Steve especially, remaining stoic and unyielding, although he felt anything but, knowing his girl could be in trouble.

 The receptionists face was a picture when the Avengers, led by a focussed, stern looking Captain America stormed into the building and demanded to know what room the Starks were in. Tony heard them shouting on the corridor, Thor kicking over paint cans as he went, and he yelled, banging on the door.

 “Stand back…” Steve’s voice was loud before he aimed a huge kick at the door, breaking it easily along with the frame which splintered out of the wall.

“Where’s Katie?” Steve asked, swallowing and looking round, almost as if he expected her to be hiding somewhere.

“They took her.” Tony said, pacing in front of him “I tried to stop them but…”

“Who?” Steve looked at him and Tony sighed, his eyes brimming “Tony, who took her?” Steve’s voice was desperate.

“HYDRA.” he bit out, and Steve felt his mouth drop open before he took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “I don’t understand…“ Thor began, but Tony cut him off. “And you think I do?” he shouted at the God, his entire body trembling as he stopped pacing in front of him “I… we…” He stopped, unable to speak, his breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Steve was too preoccupied to notice. He was simply staring down at the floor, his posture slumped as he removed his helmet which felt like it was suffocating him, his head kept replaying what Tony had told him.

 HYDRA had her. They had her.

 Banner grabbed Tony by the shoulders and gave him a single shake before he looked at him “Tony, focus on me, ok, keep breathing…”

 Tony slumped to the floor and Banner knelt down with him. “How did this happen?” Steve’s voice was thick as he turned to look at him. Tony swallowed and Bruce squeezed his shoulder “It was a trap. The man, Hall. We came to meet him only Ward and…” “Ward?” Clint’s head snapped round at the sound of that name, frowning “Ward is Hydra?”

Tony nodded and Steve let out a lowly growl of frustration.

“They wanted her, said they needed inside intel. I told them to take me, I said, take me instead, but they wouldn’t, Ward said that she’s the only one who knows…knows that someone is alive and what he’s likely to be doing…”

 At that Steve’s mind started whirring. Ward- she’d worked that last case with him and Coulson. She was the only Avenger that knew Coulson was alive, bar him, and no one knew she’d told him. Other than Fury that is.

 “Who’s alive, who were they talking about?” Natasha frowned.

“I don’t know!” Tony bellowed.

“Maybe they meant Fury?” Banner suggested, looking up.

Steve’s voice was quiet as he looked up. “They mean Coulson.”

 “What?” Tony wheeled round to face him “Coulson? He’s…he was killed, they buried him! We were at the funeral!” Steve shook his head before looking up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath “He’s alive. The last case Katie worked at SHIELD, the Asgardian staff case…” “The what?” Thor frowned, but Steve ignored him as he continued.

 “It was Coulson’s team she worked with. Ward was part of it.” “And you didn’t think to tell us?” Clint frowned at Steve

“What good would it have done Barton?” Steve snapped, before once more his hands ran over his face. The room fell silent until Nat spoke again.

“Ok, so even if he is alive, that doesn’t explain why they think she knows something.” she pressed “What do they think she knows that’s so important they’d risk taking her?” Steve grit his teeth “I’ve no idea. But I bet Fury does.”

“I’ll get Hill to find him.” Natasha says, pulling out her phone and leaving the room.

“I need to get to back to New York to access everything.” Tony said, suddenly “Start searching our intel, anything…” “What about the media?” Bruce suddenly said. “Should we release her photo?” Tony looked up but before he could speak Steve answered.

 "No. If we do that…” He shook his head. “The press’ll start digging and it could flush them further underground.” “Cap” Clint protested gently. “If we can get her picture out there, have more people on the lookout…”

 Steve shook his head, a miserable yet stubborn pout pulling at his bottom lip. “No.” “We are in the dark here!” Barton snapped.

 Steve turned on him, puffing out his chest. “There’s no way they did this and didn’t leave any sort of trail.”

 “A trail? Jesus Cap, these bastards grew within SHIELD for over seventy fucking years and no one noticed!” Clint snapped

 “I KNOW!” Steve roared.

Thor, who had been watching the exchange quietly up until that point stepped forward, placing his large hand on the Captain’s shoulder.

 “I know it is hard, but you need to remain calm Captain.” he said. Steve looked up at him, giving him a nod, taking a deep breath. Thor turned to Barton “I agree that we should have everyone we can hunting for little Stark, but maybe not straight away. We should regroup, get as much information as we can.” Clint nodded. “I’ll go see if they have CCTV. Maybe we can identify who else was with Ward.” Steve nodded at him as he turned and left the room.

 “I’m going to see if I can find anything outside.” Thor said “tracks, a trail…” he released his hold on the Captain leaving him in the room with just Bruce and Tony.

 Bruce had both his hands on Tony’s shoulders as the man sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. “I tried to stop them…” Tony sobbed, his head rocking back and forth “I tried, I really did.”

Steve said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead he stood impossibly still despite the ground feeling ready to crumble beneath him.

*****

Thor’s search drew a blank. So after quizzing the staff who were distraught when they realised what had happened, they took the CCTV footage and headed back to base. The jet was silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Steve was trying to make connections. What was Coulson doing, and why did HYDRA, mistakenly, think Katie knew about it? Why had no one told them Ward was Hydra? There was no logic in any of this, other than the fact they were desperate, broken and desperate to take the one person they knew for sure had a link to the assumed dead agent. And as that thought echoed in his head, he realised Barton was right. If he had told the rest of the Avengers about Coulson, then maybe they would have taken anyone else. The fact that he found himself wishing it was one of the others instead of her made him feel slightly ashamed but he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, the jet became hot and he felt the bile rising in his throat. He spun up out of his chair and just made it to the small bathroom at the back of the jet before he threw up.

They arrived back at base just after 2 in the afternoon, and immediately went into overdrive, running facial recognition on the CCTV, Tony instructing Jarvis to sift through the files for any mention of Ward in the vain hope it would give them a clue as to where they might have taken her.

Steve was numb, for once he was failing to direct his team, so Clint took it upon himself to organise everyone, which he was grateful for. Suddenly he felt his phone ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket as fast as he could, a low grown of frustration coming from his throat when he saw it was Sam.

 “Sam, I need to keep the line clear.” He answered, sharply.

“Woah, Cap…what’s going down?”

“Katie…” Steve stumbled over his words “She’s…she’s been taken, by HYDRA.” There was a pause and then the man spoke again, four words, before he hung up.

 “I’m on my way.”

Steve slid his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He was no good to Katie like this. He glanced over at his team, locked eyes with Thor who gave him a nod, and he strode across to see if there was anything he could help with.

It was an hour or so before they made any decent progress.

 "We got a positive ID on one of the Agents.” Hill said as she strode into the common room, handing Steve a file. He took it and glanced down, moving the surveillance photos they had extracted from the CCTV footage to one side, reading the information in it as Bruce continued. “Eric Jones. Ex SHIELD enforcer, clearly still active in Hydra. He worked out of one of the Canadian bases SHIELD had in Toronto, it fell when SHIELD did. We’re still running facial for the others, but I’ve told JARVIS to focus on the guy that Tony said was posing as Hall.” Steve nodded.

“We have a home address for Jones.” Hill added “But we’ve no idea if he’s been there recently or…” “We’ll check it out.” Nat stood up, patting Clint on his chest with the back of her hand. He nodded and stood up just as Steve spoke again.

“How did Ward know?” he looked up and turned to Tony “how did any of them know that you were gonna be there?”

Tony didn’t look away from the window as he replied "I don’t know. The company is real, we did all our research. They’re based in Saint Paul, not far from where we were.”

 “So either Ward got wind of it and took it as an opportunity or Hall was in on it from the start.”

 “If he was in on it then why kill him?” Thor asked gravely.

“Maybe they were worried he was going to blab.” Clint shrugged.

 “When we’ve been to Jones’ we’ll head over there, see if we can dig anything up.” Clint looked at Steve who gave him a nod before JARVIS cut across them.

 “Mr Stark. Director Fury and Agent Coulson are here.” “Send them up J.” Tony said, standing up.

 Steve took a deep breath and looked at Clint and Natasha “You two wait and see what he has to say before you go. It might help.”

*****

The news Fury and Coulson gave was received as well as could be anticipated. Thor let out a loud growl, turning over his chair in anger whilst the rest of the group started to angrily chatter amongst themselves, all except Steve. He simply looked at Fury, then got up from his chair, the anger radiating from every inch of his body as he strode towards him, jaw clenching.

“Rogers…” he began but shut up immediately as the Captain’s fist connected with the former Director’s nose with a satisfying crack which rang around the now silent room. Fury stumbled backwards, falling to the floor, and he wiped at his face, eyeing the trickle of blood from his shattered nose as waved away Hill away who had stepped forwards to help him.

 “Come on…” Thor patted Steve’s chest, “this isn’t helping anyone.”

 “You knew?” Steve glared down at the director. “You knew they had the damned thing and didn’t think to tell any of us that you were tracking it?”

 “It would have blown Coulson’s cover.” Fury staggered to his feet, wiping his nose. “What he is doing has to go under the radar…” “And because of that they took her.” Steve spat “Because Ward knows she knows he…”he pointed to Coulson “is alive, and because we worked with you to take them down, they think she knows something!”

 “Let’s just break this down…” Tony sighed, rubbing his face “How did they get it? I thought the Sceptre was on Asgard?” Tony frowned, looking at Thor. “You took it with Loki.”

 “No, I took the tesseract.” Thor said. “The sceptre was taken by err…not SHIELD, well a part of SHIELD but…”

 “Why did you not tell us about this?” Clint snapped, his usual placid mannerisms now spiked with anger as he turned to Maria. “Why has it taken us raiding fuck knows how many bases, and Nova getting taken for us to find out?”

“Barton, The rubble of the Triskelion took ages to sort out, the other SHIELD strongholds had been obliterated or infiltrated at the same time” she explained “Hundreds if not thousands of things have gone missing. Files, hard drives, laptops, alien artefacts, security badges, flash drives… the list keeps growing. We didn’t know it was missing until recently!” “Recently? How recent?” “Last week.” She looked down and Steve gave a snort as Clint growled.

“You should have destroyed it.” Steve looked at Fury, “Just like everything else you had in that god-damned lab.”

“We couldn’t” Coulson looked at him, and then Steve gave a sarcastic laugh as he understood perfectly what the man was saying.

“Of course not, because you never had it in the first place did you?” “What, I thought…” Tony began but Natasha cut him off.

“Sitwell and STRIKE collected the sceptre. They were HYDRA, they’ve had it right from the start.“

The room fell silent bar silent and a large clap of thunder started outside, making them jump.

“Sorry.” Thor grumbled.

“Fuck this shit.” Clint suddenly spat out, “Nat come on, we got somewhere to be.” he turned to Steve “If we find anything we’ll let you know.” Steve nodded as the arched clapped him on the shoulder and he left.

Nat turned to him, as if she was going to say something, but she didn’t. She swallowed and gave him a nod, before hurrying after her friend. Steve looked down at the floor, which was once more spinning under his feet. Hydra would be trying to get information out of Katie that she simply didn’t have. And the thought of what they would be doing… one more he felt the bile rise in his stomach and he turned, rushing from the room and made it down the corridor to the rest rooms. He pushed open the door of a cubicle, and threw the contents of his stomach up before slumping to the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, and he let out a loud cry of frustration, anger, his chest constricting around him as the tears began to fall.

*****

 Natasha and Clint’s re-con turned up something interesting.

 “Nothing at Jones’ place, it looks like it hasn’t been lived in for months, however, when we spoke to the Deputy CEO who’s running the gaff in Hall’s absence, he recognised the guy posing as Hall.” Clint looked at him “Peter Jackson their head of IT. Ran his face through the system and turns out he’s also known as Gary Jepson, ex SHIELD technician.”

 Steve ran his hand over his face, scratching the stubble on his chin as he glanced down at the photo. He hadn’t shaved since God knows when.

 “So there’s our connection.” He breathed out and Natasha nodded

“Apparently he got the job a few months ago. Timeline tallies with when HYDRA fell. Apparently he and Mr Hall had a mutual love of American Football, they hit it off, used to go for beers at lunch occasionally”

 Tony’s head hurt “I still don’t understand where Ward fits into this?”

“They both worked out of the Fridge.” Natasha said, “At the same time. They must know each other that way.”

 “From what Coulson told us, Ward has been rallying round people he knew.” Clint spoke “And, this is all supposition, but if you ask me Jepson probably tried to go legit, melted into the background post SHIELD falling but when he gets a call from his old friend, who tells him they’re not as dead as they could he reaches out. And then when he hears about the potential deal with SIP…”

 And then it clicked in Steve’s mind. .

 “I don’t think he did hear about it.” He swallowed. “You just said he was their head of IT….” “He could have easily sent those emails from Hall’s account.” Tony gave a groan. “It was all a set up from the start.”

 *****

 It was the week before Christmas. He’d been home from university for 2 weeks and his Dad was already pissing him off. Tonight, both parents were out and Tony was babysitting. He should be out himself, he knew that, Rhodey had invited him to a party, but when Katie had turned those green eyes on him and told him she didn’t want the babysitter she wanted him to stay and ‘hang’ with her (yes, he was especially proud he’d taught his 5 year old sister the word hang) just like he used to before he went away, he’d melted and told his parents to cancel the sitter.

 They’d played a board game- Snakes and Ladders. She won the tie breaker (even though he could have beaten her). They’d then watched The Snowman (well, it was nearly Christmas), Tony doing his best Choir boy impression to make her giggle, they’d had hot chocolate and marshmallows with a candy cane stuck out of the top (yes, he knew she wasn’t allowed it after 6pm but like he gave a shit) he’d then done the whole bedtime routine of supervising whilst she brushed her teeth, but she shoved him out of the room when she needed to pee. Then he’d read her a story, tucked her in well over an hour and a half after she was supposed to be in bed, and was now relaxing with a stolen glass of his dad’s scotch (cheers Dad) in front of Die Hard.  He was about halfway through the film when he heard a small sniff in the hall and she padded into the living room clutching her Winnie the Pooh teddy.

 “What are you doing out of bed?” Tony looked at his sister “I already let you stay up way later than Mom said you could!”

“Bad dream” she sobbed. With a little sigh, he opened his arms and she clambered onto his lap. “There’s a monster under my bed.”

“Nah, I killed it last week, remember?”

“It’s a new one.” She shook her head,  looking at him.

“That so…right…” He stood up.“This calls for the Monster Killer…”

AKA the Vacuum.

Grabbing it, he marched up the stairs and plugged it in. Once it was on he dived under the bed “Get here you son of a…arrrgh…” He made a big deal of thumping the floor and yelling. Eventually he stilled and emerged, turning it off.

“Got it!”

Katie smiled and her hands went up in the air in celebration “My hero, Tones!” before she wrapped her small arms around his neck and he hugged her back.

“I’ll always protect you, Kiddo, what are big brothers for?” "Tony?” His entire body jumped as he looked up and realised it was Pepper. He shifted slightly and let out a small breath. ”Yeah?”

 "It’s late.” She told him simply, but no unkindly. "Come back to bed.”

He shook his head and looked back down at the laptop on his knee. 

“You have to get some sleep.” she sighed, crossing the room before she dropped onto the dark leather sofa besides him “I know it’s hard right now, but – “ "Hard?” he interrupted with a scoff, “Hard? Great description.”

Pepper ignored his jibe and sighed “You haven’t slept in days. We can’t take a step back to where we were after New York. You need to sleep.“

 “I need to keep up with SIP.” he said, shaking his head. “She’s got so many potential authors and projects going…I mean, I can’t let her company crash…what do I tell them all anyway? What do I tell her work force?” “I had an email sent out from HR yesterday.” Pepper said

“Saying what?” Tony rounded on her.

 “That she was on extended leave for the foreseeable.” Pepper said “In the meantime, they’re all reporting into Jenny Jones.” “Who the fuck is Jenny Jones?” Tony looked at her. Pepper took a deep breath.

“She’s the General Manager.” Pepper said “Katie hired her last week.”

He looked at Pepper before the tears sprung into his eyes “the foreseeable…” “I’m sorry.” Pepper says, “I didn’t know what to say.”

 "The foreseeable, until they realise she doesn’t know anything…and they kill her too.” “You don’t know that,” Pepper said, and her voice for the first time trembled.

 Tony looked at her for a moment, before he broke.

*****

The days bled into weeks. And nothing.  They had identified every goddamned HYDRA agent on that CCTV footage now, but they had still found nothing. When Sam had arrived they’d gone back and re-raided every fucking Hydra base they could think of. Nothing. They were stabbing in the dark, and with every day that passed they knew the chances of them finding Katie were getting thinner and thinner.

Steve had a headache. A bad one. One that felt like it was going to split his head in two. He pressed the heel of his palm to the space between his eyes in a desperate attempt to quell the pain.

“Shit, steady on Cap…”

 Steve looked up and stopped before he walked straight into Tony.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“No.” Steve bit back, before he sighed “Sorry, headache…” He looked at his fiancé’s brother, the worry evident in Tony’s face as well. In fact, it seemed the pair of them now sported that expression constantly, and had done since Katie had gone missing just over 3 weeks ago.

“I thought you were going to get some sleep” Tony said as his eyes scanned down Steve’s body, taking in the fact he was in the same jeans and T-shirt he had been at their meeting last night. Another useless meeting.

He lets out a long breath. “Couldn’t.”

“Me neither.” Tony shook his head, shrugging “Kinda hard… “

“I know.” Steve nodded, looking at Tony.

"I just…I just keep thinking,” Tony swallowed. “I keep thinking about… how I could’ve avoided this. How I should have spotted it was a trap, how I couldn’t stop them taking her…” “This isn’t your fault Tony.” Steve shook his head, thankful that he could now say this honestly. At first he had been angry, angry that the man hadn’t been quicker or able to protect his sister, but that anger had fast dissipated. Without the Iron Man suit, Tony wasn’t a trained fighter. He was physically fit, yes, but not everyone had super serum coursing through their veins. The man was as broken as he was at her being gone, his sister, daughter even, gone, without a trace.

 "I miss her,” Tony said, his soft words still cut harshly into the surrounding quiet. “I just… miss her.”

Steve dropped his gaze. He missed her, God did he miss her. They’d only been engaged, for what? Coming up three months when she was taken and were still in that excited phase of it. They hadn’t gotten down to any planning of any sorts, but that hadn’t stopped their late night, post love making discussions about it. Katie gently teasing him and stating all the things she was going to get, like doves, and fire eaters…utter bullshit of course, because she had no desire for any of that showy crap.

He missed her so much it hurt. Her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at him, her bantering with everyone in the common room, the way he would walk into a room where she was speaking with Natasha and the pair of them looked at him and broke into giggles making him paranoid, the way she kissed him, the way she felt, her hands running through his hair.

Tony cleared his throat harshly and Steve looked at him. “Me too Tony, me too.”

**** Chapter 20

**Original Posting**

[gumnut-logic]

Mosaic Beach

It has taken me since Thursday morning (it is now Saturday night) to write this goes-nowhere-piece-of-fluff. I had a low level migraine Wednesday night and felt awful Thursday morning, so the first 850 odd words are me visualising being in a better place other than outside my daughter’s school. Then Scott had something to say and promptly ate my fic. But then at least he was thinking about Virgil.

Also, Gordon is evil.

As always, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ and @janetm74​ for the read throughs and support. You guys are amazing to me :D

I hope you enjoy this totally lazy fic ::hugs you all::

-o-o-o-

It was a lazy day.

Virgil suspected John, who had been kicked off Five the day before, had Eos routing all but the most dire situations to local authorities whether Scott authorised it or not.

There were days where Virgil wondered if Scott was really in charge, since John had so much ultimate say.

But that thought was for another day. He was tired and it was likely going to be a day off - please let it be a day off - and he was going to find a corner of the Island to sit alone and scribble in his sketchbook.

He ended up on Mosaic Beach, a personal favourite on the edge of the caldera. Gordon had mentioned it the day before regarding the quality of flotsam available after the last storm and Virgil thought he would see what he could find.

It was overshadowed by an ancient pokey tree brilliant in red blossom and the sand here was a mass of black and white swirls as the coral detritus fought the eroded igneous rocks – the reason they had given it its name. Gordon was right - there was all sorts of things tossed up the sand and Virgil spent the first half hour wandering along the strip of sea wrack picking up shells and whatever caught his eye.

One of the shells appeared determined to return to the ocean and it was with a small smile that he picked up the tiny hermit crab and watched it curl up into its shell.

Holding it gently in his palm, he sought the shade of the giant tree and sat down on the sand in its shadow. Here the breeze was gentle, the sand cool and, leaning back against a rock, he set the little crab down on a smooth patch of sand, along with his small hoard of shells and let it scamper across the little landscape that resulted.

Sketchbook out, he spent the next few minutes sketching the crab madly as it moved about. It shifted angle at random and he found himself increasingly switching from real life to a character sketch. A little personality sprouted from the page that reflected the little crab’s determination.

Ever aware of the crab’s needs above his own, he sketched fast, took a few photos and then gathered the little creature in his hands once more. He trotted down to the rock pools at the edge of the beach and found a spot he felt the crab would be happy.

Crouching down, he watched it scamper into the water.

His lips curved into a smile.

Gordon would know what species it was, where it lived and how to best care for it. Virgil was pretty sure he knew what type it was. Mel was pedantic about crabs and had given them a list of ‘these are endangered, tell me if you see them, kill one and I will kill you’. Fortunately or unfortunately, it wasn’t a long list, so Virgil had memorised it. This little guy...he should be happy here.

The crab found some weed and promptly hid under it.

The rockpool drew Virgil’s eye a little longer before he finally stood up and let the breeze cool his face. A sigh at the sun’s warmth and he wandered back to the shadow of the pokey tree and sat down again.

The little crab stared up at him from his sketchbook, spritely and determined.

Kind of like Gordon really, despite the claws.

That prompted a smile at the thought of his fish brother’s reaction to being compared to a crab.

He would squawk, but he would love it.

Virgil returned to sketching the shells and bits of coral he had collected. Rearranging them, repositioning for lighting. He picked one up and stared at the colours created by a little mollusc. He was ever amazed at what Mother Nature was capable of. Simple geometrics and chemical formulae made one of the world’s strongest and most beautiful substances in nacre. Another broken shell showed the rainbow of colour that he knew his paintbrush would never quite be able to capture, much less the pencil and stick of carbon he had with him today. He was left with a little snapshot from his phone...which was never quite the same either...and what his memory could provide.

Perhaps it was nature’s way of ensuring it was always the most beautiful.

He shifted to scribbling down the beachscape after that. It wasn’t the first time he had drawn this beach, but as with all beaches, it was different every day as the tide sculpted it.

His fingers grew more and more lazy, his lines wandering through more emotion than reality as the day drifted on. At some point, he ate the sandwich he had packed, quite happy to not care what time of day it was and refusing to look at his watch.

Eventually the sketchbook was set aside and he let himself just stare out at the ocean lagoon, eyes tracking the movement of the distant waves and the laps of the ripples against the shore.

And nature’s rhythms lulled him to sleep.

-o-o-o-

“Hey, big bro, you might want to drop by Mosaic Beach before the tide comes in.” Gordon waltzed past the desk Scott was sitting at with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Scott’s brain was still stuck in working out what the hell Simmonds meant by the ‘urgent memo’ that had interrupted his afternoon off.

“The snoring is scaring away all the wildlife.” With that Gordon grabbed a book off the shelf on the far side of the room and backtracked out the way he had come in...without another word.

Scott was left staring where his brother had been.

But then Gordon was worth ignoring some times.

He turned back to his display and continued to try and work out why Simmonds had ordered sixty plastic flamingoes and then memo’d him about it in a panic.

It took him a good few minutes more before throwing it back at Simmonds’ supervisor in Japan with a ‘concerned’ note.

What did Tracy Industries need with sixty plastic flamingoes?

He shook his head and forced himself to stand up and not invest any more in any comms from the business. Today was hopefully his day off and he refused to fall into the trap of losing himself in all the things that required attention.

All the things.

He paused mid rise.

But no. No! Vacation day. He forced himself away from the desk and out onto the balcony.

It was a beautiful out here. The afternoon sun was blazing in a brilliant blue sky without a single cloud. The sea was murmuring far below. It was an artist’s dream.

He blinked as certain Gordon utterings connected neurons together.

A frown. “Gordon!”

No answer.

Another frown and he strode back inside, following the recent tracks of his fish brother down to the kitchen.

Scott found him reading at the table, a phone that was most definitely not his in one hand and the book in his other.

There were lots of photos of crabs.

“What are you doing?”

“Confirming the identification of a crab.”

“Why?”

“Virg found one down on Mosaic Beach and I wanna make sure it is what I think it was so I can report it to Mel.”

The dots that had been connecting earlier fused into a solid line with an arrow pointing directly at Gordon. “And where is Virgil?”

“Snoozing on the beach.”

“And why do you have his phone?”

“Because his drawings were excellent, but I needed a colour shot.”

“Gordon!”

His brother didn’t even look up. “What?” But then he blinked and frowned at Scott. “He’s fine. Well above the high tide line.” A glance down at the book again. “There, that’s it. Oooh, Mel is going to be so excited.”

Scott glared at Gordon for a whole second longer before storming over and snatching the phone out of his hands. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen and took the path that would lead him down to the reported beach.

Younger brothers were hard work.

The little beach wasn’t the closest on the Island. Probably one of the reasons Virgil chose it to get away from pesky younger brothers. Trust Gordon to find him anyway.

He fingered Virgil’s phone in his hand as he walked. The green leather case was embossed with an elaborate dragon design.

Looking at it, all he could really feel was fondness.

He must be tired. Grandma was right. He needed a day off.

Easier said than done. It wasn’t like he could park himself on a beach and fall asleep.

He grunted as he stepped over some rocks to start the climb down to the little cove. The path was thin and wove amongst several pōhutukawa trees – or pokey trees as Alan called them, their dark green leaves adorned with puffs of red blossom. Birds darted between them squawking at each other. That combined with the surf in the distance and the breeze rattling palm trees, it wasn’t the quietest of places.

Nevertheless, he found his brother sprawled against a rock under the largest pokey tree at the edge of the beach, snoring his head off.

Definitely noisy.

Virgil was dressed in an old pair of work shorts and a t-shirt with a hole in it. Both sported spatters of paint and clearly showed how relaxed his brother was trying to be.

Beside him on a rock, carefully placed, no doubt by Gordon, the brat, was a sketchbook and a box of drawing tools. Virgil’s artist backpack lay folded up supporting his head - again likely Gordon.

Virgil snorted and curled up just a little more against the rock.

Gordon was a shit, but he was a kind one. Virgil slept like the dead and would likely need one of those waves off in the distance to wash over him if he was going to wake up before he wanted to.

Staring a moment longer, Scott sighed, gave up and sat down beside his brother. He dropped the phone onto the sketchbook and looked out at the beach.

Virgil continued to snore.

His biggest little brother had always snored. Scott had cornered him and got him tested for a variety of sleep issues, but he was fine. Just loud.

The terrible two used to make a point of pointing it out as much as possible. But that was before the hydrofoil accident.

Gordon didn’t know it, but due to his injuries, he now snored, too.

The ribbing about snoring in the Tracy household had dropped to a minimum since, Gordon the only unknowing ribber.

But Virgil remained the major noise maker and the brothers worshipped the soundproofing in the villa.

Regardless of the racket, Scott did find it strangely quiet out here. Sitting on the sand with nothing to do was oddly relaxing. Of course, he wasn’t really one to do nothing and Virgil’s sketchbook was right there. Gordon had obviously already stuck his nose into it and Scott was pretty sure Virgil wouldn’t mind if he took a peek.

Would he?

Lifting the phone off the book, Scott carefully picked it up and nestled it in his lap...ever, ever so careful. Okay, so he had some respect and not a little fear of damaging Virgil’s artwork.

The pages were thick and stiff and likely designed to support wet media as much as dry. Most of the work in it was pencil, however, maybe some charcoal? The darks were so deep in some that they had to be.

But Scott was no artist and really only had eyes for the content.

The first page found him looking at himself. Virgil had obviously either captured Scott’s likeness on the sly or drawn from a photo or holoprojection. His drawing stared up at him in almost all three dimensions. The expression on his graphite face was thoughtful, almost wistful. He could see his rendered self was thinking or planning and totally distracted...which was likely why he had no clue his brother had captured this shot.

But the artistic strokes were strong and sure, simple in their complexity.

Scott blinked, moved that his brother was so talented and capable.

Though he really shouldn’t be surprised.

Turning the page, he discovered their grandmother.

He had to smile. The concentration on Grandma’s face was almost comical. A bowl and a recipe book sat in front of her and the very tip of her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she frowned at whatever she was reading.

There was a touch of caricature in the drawing, a little exaggeration, but done with love and fondness, not mockingly. His grandmother was beautiful.

Scott swallowed and turned the page to find several detailed scribbles. They looked like pieces of machinery and the pages had notes written down the sides.

It was a spark moment. He knew Virgil well enough for that. One of those times when his thoughts all came together and saw him running naked out of the shower to grab whatever he could find and get it written down.

Several major equipment improvements had occurred exactly this way. It appeared that at some point, this sketchbook had been the nearest note book and had borne the brunt.

He stared at the diagrams, doing his best to work out exactly what they were. Sharp notation, numbers, that had to be the backend of a pod. It clicked. This was part of the pod assembly redesign from the previous year. Virgil had come to him with some major improvements, including a pod body redesign. What followed had been a massive overhaul of all the ‘birds’ assembly systems and a whole new set up, including colour changes according to which Thunderbird housed which pod. Virgil and Brains had been buzzing for weeks.

And it was possible it had all started here on this piece of paper. Now he could see the scribbled down inner workings of the assembly mechanism and the shape on the second page was a worked and reworked pod shell.

He glanced over at his brother who was still snoring peacefully. Virgil was amazing. Scott could not have been prouder of what his little brother had achieved. Yet Virgil never really boasted or bragged or even highlighted what he had done. He was just there. Always there, one step behind him ready to help.

He must be really tired because now he was getting emotional. There had been a few times in the last couple of years where he had come close to losing Virgil. He hadn’t, but there had been nightmares and many a night where he had spent reassuring himself that his biggest brother was still with him.

And yes, he could stand outside his brother’s bedroom door and listen to him snore.

It gave him comfort.

Gordon had caught him once.

That had been a heartbreaking moment.

Because his fish brother hadn’t said a thing, just reached up, squeezed his shoulder, dropped his forehead against Scott’s arm and just stood there for a solid moment. Another gentle squeeze and he left, not even looking up at Scott before he was gone.

It said more than any words.

Scott sighed and turned the page...only to come face to face with Gordon again. Though this time the joy in their fish brother’s eyes was lighting up the page. He was grinning at a shell and there was a speech bubble - ‘Virgil, come and see this!’

Scott had to smile. Gordon was notorious for sharing his beach discoveries. Virgil was usually the target because at least he knew a little bit about their little brother’s fascinations. Scott loved to see Gordon happy, but honestly, he couldn’t tell the difference between one shell or another. He tried. He honestly did, but Virgil had the patience of a saint and was much more engaging.

Scott loved to watch the two of them instead.

And yes, he saw Virgil sneak things into his pockets. Usually shells, but occasionally rocks and bits of coral. Those finds made their way back to Virgil’s studio and there was a whole corner devoted to marine still life.

Which was why it was no surprise when the next three pages of sketchbook turned out to be exactly that. A curly shell, a pile of cockle shells - Scott knew those at least - they were good for fishing. The third page had a plan for a reef painting. It had scribbled notes, much like the pod redesign pages, but this was based around a sketched layout. Scott frowned at it...it was vaguely familiar. He would have to ask Virgil about it when he woke.

The next two pages sported today’s efforts. The same beach he was sitting on emerged from the paper, along with some sketches of a crab. The first few were realistic, but the last one had the little hermit crab with an IR symbol on its side and one of Dad’s old uniform hats perched on top of its shell. It bore a sash that resembled Virgil’s despite the lack of green colour and one of its claws was bigger than the other in a very exo-suit-like way.

That had Scott grinning. This was no doubt the reason why Gordon had run for the crab book. Mel, in her position of Director of the Kermadec Expedition south of them on Raoul Island, was very particular about the endemic crabs on all the islands in the area.

He wondered what she would think of them inducting crabs into IR.

He wondered what she was doing today and if she might be available later for a nice evening together.

That thought was very distracting and had nothing to do with crab identification at all.

Virgil snorted, rolled over off his backpack and face first into the sand.

Scott startled, fully expecting a woken bear of a brother to surface from that.

But Virgil just kept snoring, now snorting sand as well.

He placed the sketchbook down, scrambled around his brother and gently shoved the folded backpack under his head again.

His fingertips brushed sand off Virgil’s face.

And he found himself sitting beside his brother again.

Why was he out here?

Because Gordon was evil and dangled the concept of Virgil drowning in the tide simply to aggravate him enough to do exactly what he did.

Gordon was a shit.

But a good one.

Another sigh and he lay back against the rocks and got comfortable, because, let’s face it, he wasn’t going back up to the villa without Virgil. His brother was safe, sure, but walking off and leaving him to the elements ran against his grain.

And Gordon knew it.

He would throttle, and possibly hug, his fish brother later.

Besides, it was nice out here, taking a moment to just be.

Virgil would approve.

Virgil would fake being asleep just to get him to do it.

Scott’s eyes darted to his now softly snoring brother, a sudden suspicion at the forefront of his thoughts. He would put it past either of Virgil or Gordon’s conniving ways to conspire to get him out here.

Virgil was drooling a wet patch onto his backpack.

Ugh.

Well, maybe not.

Perhaps he was just being paranoid.

Perhaps he just needed to relax.

Relax.

He closed his eyes and folded his hands in his lap. Kayo was good at meditation. So was Gordon. Virgil did some connecting with nature thing that seemed to work for him.

Exhibit A snorted as if in agreement.

He could try.

Out of all the sounds he could hear, only one really held his attention.

That same soft snoring. No waves or wind or birds squawking brought him any kind of comfort.

The sound of his brother breathing evenly beside him, safe and sound, was the most beautiful sound in the world.

What that said about him...well, he didn’t care right now. He was tired and worn out. Maybe Gordon was right. Maybe this is what he needed. He should care, should be annoyed, but the rhythm was lulling and, god, he was so tired.

So goddamned tired.

Virgil kept breathing and Scott followed him into sleep.

-o-o-o-

Hidden in the foliage of the grove of pokey trees behind his two brothers, Gordon just smiled.

-o-o-o-

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

No More Countdowns

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 6!) The countdown is over

Warning: None, I think!

Words: 1,755

A/N: This is, potentially, the last part. However, if you want another, let me know!

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five

Master List HERE!    Permanent Tag List HERE!

A continuous beeping roused you. The noise, though not loud, pierced your skull. It was a repeated noise, one that wouldn’t stop, and that is what frustrated you. You were tired and your body ached, you just wanted to go to sleep. In the second between each beep, your mind seemed to lull before being roused again.

You weren’t going to get any rest.

 Instead, you open your eyes, only to immediately close them when the harsh lighting burns. You let out a quiet moan before opening your eyes again, blinking against the harsh light in an attempt to get your eyes to adjust.

 Slowly, everything comes into focus and you can see again. The ceiling above you is a clear white and when you looked to your side, there’s a window where you can see the blue sky. It was an incredible sight to see and you couldn’t help the emotion climbing through your chest. Your breath stuttered, and then you were releasing gentle sobs as you stared at the sky.

 Part of your mind said that you were reacting stupidly, but you ignored it. You never thought you would never see the sky again. You would prefer to be outside and seeing it, with a gentle breeze blowing through your hair, but this was a sight you were grateful for.

 You had thought that you would never see the sky again, only the cold, grey concrete. But there it was, just outside the window, fluffy white clouds floating by. You had never taken the time to look at the sky before but now, laying there, it was so beautiful.

 “Y/N, you’re awake. You’re crying!” a voice said, catching your attention and pulling your gaze from the window. “Are you in pain? Shall I get a doctor?”

“Its okay, I’m okay” you assured Penelope, giving her a watery smile. “I never thought I’d see the sky again… or you.”

 Your arm is heavy, but you reach towards her. Her own hand quickly darts for your own, grasping it tightly and rubbing her thumb over the back. Its so good to see her. Though her eyes were red from tears, she still radiated light. Seeing her sent a surge of warmth through you and your tears came down faster.

 “I’m so glad you’re here” you told her, squeezing her hand with as much strength as you could.

“Of course, I’m here!” she shook her head, as if you thinking otherwise was ridiculous. “The others would be here too, but Hotch made them go, especially Reid. He was so worried about you, Y/N, you should have seen him. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“What are you doing here then?” you ask her, your eyebrows furrowed.

“I couldn’t leave you on your own. Plus, someone has to keep everyone else up-to-date” she replied. “Actually, Reid and Morgan wanted to stay with you too but Hotch ordered them out…”

“mmm” you murmured. You shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable spot on the hard hospital bed but let out a groan when a jolt of pain shoots through your chest.

“What are you doing? Stop” Penelope orders, hoping to her feet to readjust you and alleviate the pain.

“What was verdict?” you question, sighing as you relaxed into the pillows which now supported your neck better.

“You’re lucky to be here. The knife hit bone, deflecting from your heart” she replied, her voice quiet as she didn’t want to scare you. “They said you’re going to be okay though, so…that’s good!”

“How long was I gone for, how long did he have me?” you questioned. “What happened to him?”

“He’s gone, Hotch shot him after he stabbed you” she told you gently. “He had you for two days.”

“Two days?!” your eyebrows flew up, your voice raising. “He had me for two days? It only felt like a few hours…”

“I’m sorry it took so long to get you out” she apologised.

“Its okay” you told her.

 You give her a tired smile, squeezing her hand when she sniffled. Penelope was such a gentle soul. She was the heart of the team, she cared for you all with more love than you thought it was possible for one person to have. Of course, Penelope would be here when you woke up. She was there for everyone’s awakening when they had stint in the hospital.

 -

 When you wake up next, you’re not as annoyed at the beeping. It showed that you were alive, how could you be annoyed at that? You laid with your eyes closed for a few more minutes, breathing in the sterile air which, while unpleasant, was a gift in itself.

 Upon finally opening your eyes, you see Spencer. He sits slouched in the hospital chair, his left ankle resting on his right knee. His right arm holds up a book, eyes scanning the pages with his usual speed, while his left elbow sits on the arm of his chair, his finger pressed against his lips. He hadn’t noticed you yet and you took the time to take him in properly.

 There was a reason why Derek called Spencer ‘Pretty Boy’. He fit the nickname perfectly with dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a jaw line which you could cut yourself on. His long hair, which he had grown out and cut a lot through out the years, was tucked behind his ears.

 You had been sure that you were going to die, that you’d never see him again. The relief that rushed through your chest stole your breath away. Spencer was here, in front of you. You wanted to reach out for him, to hold his hand and to confess your deepest secret but you couldn’t.

 He looked so lovely sitting in that horrid green waiting chair. You had always enjoyed watching him read, you found it amusing how quickly he could get through a book. He would never just skim the pages, though that’s what most people thought he did, but he’d get fully invested and distracted from the world around him. You couldn’t blame him; the pages of his book were no doubt better than the world around him.

 It didn’t take him long to finish the book. He closed it with a sigh, scrunching his eyes shut and running his hand over his face. If the large yawn was anything to go by, he was tired.

 “Someone hasn’t been sleeping” you observed, your voice dry and raspy.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake!” he smiled, quickly reaching for the water on the bedside table. You smiled gratefully, taking small sips as he continued to talk. “Hotch banned me from the hospital last night, so I got a few hours. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up before.”

“It’s okay” you reassure him with a smile. “You’re here now.”

 Your hand took him, your fingers slotting together with his. It felt so good to touch him, to feel his skin against your own. Your hand tingled, electricity travelling up your arm in a pleasant way. You had missed him in the two days you had been gone.

 “You saved me; you know” you smiled gently at him. “There was a maze… I didn’t know how I was going to solve it but then I remembered Halloween.”

“Right hand?” he asked, leaning towards you.

“Right hand” you confirmed. “I also had to pick a lock… I remember you teaching me how to do it with hair grips.”

It was quiet for a moment before he sniffled, “I’m sorry I didn’t come over to yours, or that I didn’t meet you. I’m sorry we didn’t get to you earlier, before he did… this” he indicated your injuries, looking you over sadly.

“Its not your fault Spence, none of it is” you assured him. “I was scared, you know. Not of dying, well actually it was of dying, but there was something else… I was scared I’d never see you again.”

 His eyes softened and he seemed to melt at your words. Spencer was often an awkward man who didn’t know how to express his emotions but you could always read his expressions. A little smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

 “I-” he coughed, clearing his throat. His voice was a little higher in pitch when he next spoke, indicating his nerves. “I was scared too. I was scared that I, that we, would never get you back. Those two days… it felt like forever and… I hated it.”

“You have me back, now” you told him, squeezing his hand. “I… I have to tell you something though.” “Okay” he nodded, leaning forward to listen to you.

“When I was in there, when I thought I wasn’t going to make it out, I realised that if I died, my feelings would die with me. They would disappear without ever being acknowledged” you began slowly. You paused, taking a moment to draw in a deep breath. “I… I like you, Spencer. In fact, I think I’m in love with you.”

 Spencer stared at you, his pretty pink lips open in disbelief. It was as if he was struggling to understand what you had said to him. It was okay, you told yourself, that he reacted in such a way. Finding out your best-friend liked you would be a shock one would not be prepared for.

 Though your heart wanted to believe otherwise, your mind told you that Spencer didn’t feel the same about you. That’s okay too. He didn’t have to reciprocate your feelings. You just hoped that he would still want to be your friend after finding out.

 You had to tell him how you felt. Being so close to death, it made you realise how many things you hadn’t done because you were scared. This was one of those things, telling Spencer your feelings. It was probably the biggest thing, the one you were most scared of. However, you couldn’t keep it to yourself. It was worth the risk of total rejection. Tell him, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest.

 “I like you too. In fact, I think I’m in love with you” he repeats with a gentle smile.

 He leans forward, gently placing a kiss on your cheek. This doesn’t need to be rushed, there was no countdown anymore. You both had time to explore your relationship together, and you looked forward to it. 

A/N: This is, potentially, the last chapter. However, if you do want me, let me know and I might whip something up.

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[barnesandco]

Plzplzplzzzzz can you write a buckyxdeaf reader imagine, I just got my hearing aids after being diagnosed as moderate deaf a few months ago and there’s not enough of them imagines!!🥺 where reader gets her hearing aids or gets insecure about her deafness

Relearning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: One very short allusion to the Winter Soldier. Insecurities about disabilities. Brief mention of a supporting character’s nightmares.

A/N: Thank you again for thinking of me for this request, nonny. I hope I was able to provide what you wanted. 

They day they arrive, your face falls like a confirmation of your worst anticipations. Hearing aids, as small and inconspicuous as possible, hidden if you close the fist you hold then in, lie on your palm, unassuming. Bucky's the only one who reads the tension in the hard way you've set you shoulders, and makes some indications to Steve that he picks up on immediately and clears out the common area. Nobody was staring in the first place -- only Tony had come up to the two of you at the chess table with the case in hand -- but Bucky knows you need your space, your time. He doesn't expect you to seek that distance away from him, too.

When the area is empty, you sit with Bucky's hand over one tightly clenched fist laid on the table, almost drawing blood, the other shaking furiously. He rises from his side to make his way to you, and you stand, too. But before he can get to you, you leave. Hearing aids in hand and tears barely held back, while Bucky feels as helpless as he ever has.

-----

Going back to his room, he thinks of when it all began. The explosion in Belarus a year ago, just before he could work up the courage to ask you out. The blast impaired your hearing and you started lip reading, made sure nobody approached you from behind. Refused to let Bucky learn sign language for your sake because you were convinced it would get better soon, even though he knew you were learning it yourself. Only, it didn’t, and the doctor’s appointments reinforced that idea, wrote it in concrete, and you tried to live with it regardless.

Naturally, you had to relent to medical opinion at some point, and you underwent further testing and Tony starting working on your hearing aids alongside a biomedical engineer from MIT named Hailey. This was the destination, and he suspected it would be hard to come to terms with, but he wished he had prepared for it better. If only he knew what to do.

-----

It takes you a full day to leave your room. The only reason Bucky doesn't break down your door is because Friday told him you're still eating.

When you emerge, it is a Saturday morning. Exercise hour. The morning is golden and yellow-green against the backdrop of the grounds the Sun has just risen over. Summer has sunk deep enough into early May's bones that the temperature is lukewarm.

He's hidden in the breakfast nook in the kitchen wearing ridiculous sheep patterned sweatpants -- Wanda's idea of a gag gift -- having opted out of the gym in hopes that you might reappear, and you do. Eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, ethereal radiance dimmed but he accepts you to be the most wondrous person he knows even now.

Especially now, when you are hopefully able to utilize the sense that used to be impaired. The hearing aids look unusual on you, but only the way in which new things do. Something you do not recognize but are prepared to learn.

He watches you ready your breakfast. A couple of Wanda's blueberry muffins and jasmine tea. You love tea and he loves you. The crinkle in your nose, that he has missed so, as you wait for the water to boil. An itch behind your ear -- a new gesture, but just as endearing -- while the kettle simmers and hisses.

Still unaware of his presence, with your eyes focused elsewhere and ears not quite tuned to their aids, you sit at the kitchen island facing the window, the grass lawns, the fresh air seeping in through the opening. He watches you relish the morning on your face, your closed eyes and the curve of your lips loose and relaxed instead of in a frown like he last saw it. The moment is as still as ice, your forms frozen in glacier time, and Bucky, for all his hatred of the cold, would gladly stay in it if you'll let him be this close to you.

His own limbs release the stress in his shoulders slowly, springs unwinding in his marrow with creaks audible to his mind, and he  breathes a little slower, more naturally, more at ease now that you are here. His life vein, his gentle love.

The muffins are consumed slowly, your tongue peeking out to lick the last of their taste from your lips, the way Wanda's baking deserves to be savored. You nurse your tea in your hands for a long time, trying to take all the heat you can through the porcelain. Your fingers are always cold, Bucky knows. He has had too many tangled-bedsheet mornings, with your hands offering enough weight for him to feel but never enough for his skin to warm yours.

For a second, in between one rustle of the leaves in the border trees and the next, he forgets where he is, and loses himself in the memory of pressing your hands to his neck, letting you warm yourself by his collarbone and relishing in the hot goosebumps elicited by the movement of your hands down his abdomen.

But then you put your mug in the sink, and on instinct, Bucky rises and calls your name. Loud enough that he knows you'll hear him, but soft enough not to startle you. Everything is a delicate balance with you, a see-saw he is more than happy to keep in the air for you.

You're surprised to see him there, and you start to turn away, but Bucky speaks again.

"Please. Please, honey. Don't turn away," he pleads to your crestfallen expression, heart tearing at the seams. You need to understand that he is not going to give up on you for this, just like you've never turned away his metal arm.

Your hoarse voice, tired and sad in equal measure, says "Sorry." And you leave, again.

-----

Bucky does the only thing he can think of. He goes to Clint. The archer’s Bed-Stuy apartment emits sounds of vacuum cleaning and Bucky rings the bell twice before calling him. His phone bell is paired with his hearing aids, so he answers quickly, and lets Bucky in.

“You’re... cleaning,” Bucky states in a questioning voice, looking around at the apartment he has never seen in such a clean condition previously.

Clint clears his throat uncomfortably as he heads to the kitchen. “Yeah, Nat wanted to stay over for a bit and you know her...” he says with his face in the fridge, rummaging for Coca Cola, and indeed, Bucky does know. He knows of her clean-freak tendencies and the spate of nightmares she’s been having that might induce her to seek Clint’s comfort from the new, bad memories a mission in Moscow last month dredged up.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Clint asks pleasantly, forcing away the sympathetic sorrow in both of their minds.

Bucky blanches. He isn’t here for pleasantries, but he’s sure Clint will understand. “Could you teach me sign language?” Bucky asks back, and watches Clint consider the question. Clint knows about the recent arrival of your hearing aids, and your consequent insecurities. 

“Of course,” is the answer, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Looks forward to learning something new. Something to bring him closer to you again.

-----

Bucky spends a month with his heart aching whenever you pass by him, thankfully no longer hiding away but still refusing to let him in, and he tries to invest his energy into showing you he loves you still, loves you always, and he does not think any lesser of you. 

Clint is patient. It takes Bucky’s hands a while to get used to the smooth, elegant flow of fingers to fist, to shape, to mold into meaning because he is so used to using his words. All that time with the mask has made him grateful for every letter he gets the chance to utter, but he will gladly give it up for you. If this sacred tongue that involves no tongue at all, that relays meaning through the extension of his forefinger, thumb and pinky from a fist -- love -- and the hand over his face -- beautiful -- and two peace signs joined at the top -- partner -- is what it takes to be yours, he’ll practise till you smile again.

-----

It takes another month for you to sit across from him at the chess table he has been waiting at since your hearing aids arrive. You hesitate by your chair. Bucky lifts his hands.¨

Flat right hand over the center of his chest. Clockwise arc. Please.

Thank you. Your fingers go from touching your lips to bringing your hand forth in a flat palm in front of him. Once you’ve sat down, Bucky rolls out the chess pieces, and you set them up.

Bucky watches you with scared scrutiny, praying for no wrong moves. Once the pieces are set up, you make your move, and then wait for Bucky. I love you, he signs, while the hubbub of the common area falls away. The world is silent save for the screaming brightness of your face. His only melody. His quiet choir. His silent muse.

I love you, too, you sign, and reach across the table to take his hand. Your smile is shaking, like it’s holding the weight of worlds, and Bucky takes the burdens away, leaning across to kiss your lips. The moment is a bubble of wonder, of marvellous adoration, where the air holds its breath. Your hands find Bucky’s hair as his come up to cradle your jaw gently. A metal finger traces over a hearing aid while his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. Stronger smiles form against each other’s lips. This is what home feels like. 

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Keep Me Company

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader

Word Count: Approx 3300

Warnings: Adult language and situations, non-overly graphic sexual times

A/N: Written and submitted for @wi-deangirl77​‘s That’s Some Supernatural Schitt writing challenge. Thanks for being patient!! And my gosh, @plaidstiel-wormstache​ was a magician with her beta skills.

Set sometime after S12. Arthur Ketch and the woman in this story have an established relationship. You know how it goes, something casual develops into something more...maybe.

Arrogant.

That’s what he is, but the word’s not sharp enough to be an insult. Not one he’d care about anyway.

“You seem a bit wound up. Something on your mind?” he asks.

She wants to tell him that she hates him. It’s the easy thing to do. It’s not even like he’s a good person, but it wouldn’t be true and he’d see it for exactly what it is - antagonism.

Always polite, patient, and god damn glorious in bed. He’s done nothing outright to deserve such wrath, either. Except for doing nothing out of the ordinary at all.

“How so?” she tries for casual and evidently fails based on the look of annoyance he throws her way.

“You’re quiet. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re bored.” 

“Well…” she trails off, unsure of what to say or how to say it. She knew what came next - sex. Of course, before that there were drinks. Her glass would never be empty, from bar to table to the hotel suite, which is not usually the issue. Then there was dinner, followed by a dessert that would be left unfinished at the table. As she mulls it all over, she wonders if maybe that was where this night went wrong; unfinished thoughts clouded by alcohol, or maybe the wine was too relaxing. Either way, the brain to mouth filter malfunction was unstoppable.

“You should be nicer to me,” she blurts out.

That gets an eyebrow lift in response, then a squint as he thinks over her words. “I do believe I have behaved like the gentleman I was raised to be.”

“That’s not,” she heaves a sigh as she collects her thoughts, “I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then by all means, please elaborate,” he says as he sets the cloth napkin on the table and sits back. He’s letting her pick this fight and he knows it.

“I don’t appreciate being put on the spot.”

“I don’t appreciate my companion keeping secrets from me.”

That word. So emotionless and generic. It’s what sets her off.

“You know that you sound like Humperdinck?”

“What?”

“Your voice, your accent. You sound like Prince Humperdinck from ‘The Princess Bride.’ He was an arrogant asshole too.”

His lips purse and she watches the corner of his mouth twitch. “What, exactly, does that have to do with our evening?”

“Nothing. It just annoys me.”

He scrutinizes her, “I see.” He calls for the check and doesn’t bother to initiate further conversation. He still gets up first and helps to pull out her chair for her. Then guides her with a hand at her waist, and steps forward to open doors.

The car ride is silent aside from the quiet music playing and while it’s not comfortable, she’s also foolishly not telling him the night is over. Her back aches from the tension and from twisting her body to face away from him and toward the window. The dark tinted glass doesn’t give much of a view of the outside, but she can watch his reflection from time to time as it catches the light and catches him with that damn smirk of his.

Arrogant and smug, what a combination.

When they finally make it into the hotel suite, he drops the careful grin he used in public, twisting his neck with obvious annoyance.

“Well now, shall we talk like adults or do you plan to insult me for the evening?” He pulls the door closed behind her and then moves to the closet, meanwhile she stands still in the entryway of the suite, stubborn. 

“I can do both.”

“As fun as that sounds, it’s not what I had in mind for our time together.” He removes his jacket and hangs it in the closet, smoothing down its front before turning back to her.

“Right, because that would mess up your routine, and here we are already ahead of schedule.” She turns so the zipper of her dress is facing him, “Go ahead, let’s do this.”

He pauses with one hand at the knot of his tie, ready to loosen it. Again, the look of scrutiny aimed her way. “Ahead of schedule? What does that mean?”

She turns to him and sighs, her expression flat, she was fed up. “It means, Arthur, that every time we do this, it’s the same thing. A call, a fancy dinner, drinks, dessert, then back to the hotel suite, another drink, you undress me and then we end up in bed.”

“It’s more than that,” he argues half-heartedly, “And you’ve never left unsatisfied.” It almost sounds like a question, or perhaps an accusation.

“That’s true, but…”

“But what?” he steps closer, hands in his pockets and face unreadable.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Her face burns hot, hating herself immediately for how needy it sounds.

He stares, his face unchanging. His breathing measured and posture the usual - upright and commanding. 

Her body burns hot and cold while her stomach twists and flips. She’s afraid to move because just about anything might set off the instinct to cry at the moment, either from anger or embarrassment. She tries to keep the tremble from her voice as she asks the next question on her mind. 

“Maybe this one is easier: would you miss me if you never saw me again?”

“You know that in this line of work--” He begins, calm, rehearsed, but it angers her further.

Arrogant, smug, and standoffish.

“I am not asking for promises. Jesus Christ, I know exactly how things are, I don’t need a speech about how we might die on a hunt, about how we need to focus on the bigger picture. Okay? I know all of that.” Her face falls, “I also know that you are not the heartless killing machine that people describe you as.”

He opens his mouth to deny it but she cuts him off. 

“No! No, Arthur. I mean, yes, you kill, but you’re allowed to care for people too. Like it or not, you cared for Toni in some way I will never understand, and,” she hesitates, “And there was Mary Winchester.”

He visibly reels just at the name, but does well to keep control over his reaction, not letting much more out even as he speaks. “Why? Admitting something like that puts us both in danger, allows others to use it against you, and for what? A moment of happily ever after? To satisfy your curiosity or to feel as though you’ve won?”

“You’re not void of emotion, no matter how hard those bastards tried to beat it out of you. I feel like you care, and I’ll admit that I want you to. But whether you honestly do or don’t, I just don’t want to feel like a whore you pay for with an expensive meal and a hot shower. If nothing else, don’t you at least consider me a friend? Or is ‘companion’ really the best I am ever gonna get?”

In a blink, he resets to a more neutral expression, lips only slightly pursed as he thinks. “Is all this really because I called you my companion at dinner?” He turns and moves to a marble counter, pouring the bourbon into two tumbler glasses. He hands one to her and out of habit, she takes it, hand trembling, holding it to her chest as she watches him take a large sip. 

“I don’t need you to tell me anything that isn’t true.” Her gaze drops to the amber liquid in the glass, “I don’t need promises or anything else. But, what I do want is to know that I am not just a placeholder, or a warm body.” Looking back up, she checks he’s listening, seeing if her words are hitting their mark, “I care about you, and I would sure as hell miss you if you left my life after tonight. I just...I just want to know that...God this all sounds so much worse than I imagined.” She turns and paces away, fingers swiping along her bottom lashes to collect the tears gathering.

“I thought you weren’t asking for promises,” he accuses.

“I’m not!” She erupts. She immediately realizes it was the wrong reaction as he squares his shoulders and widens his stance for an argument. After taking a sip and letting it slowly roll down her throat, she softens her tone and tries another approach, “I’m asking for emotion, for you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see a difference.” 

Arrogant, smug, standoffish, and dense. 

“You’re serious?”

“I would hardly call myself an expert on this subject. And by subject, I mean genuine human emotion. Though, you know, it never ends well for those who want the best of both worlds. Believe me, it’s best to draw the line right there.” He tells her, using his free hand to indicate an imaginary line, but failing to meet her eyes.

And there it is, slight as could be, but still a chink in his armor. There was the man she knew wanted affection, but denied himself at every turn.

“Yeah, I am getting that. For all your skills picked up from the Men of Letters, how are you so terrible at this?” She takes another sip from her glass, “Nevermind. Do not answer that.” 

Arrogant, smug, standoffish, dense, abstentious.

She takes a moment, weighing the pros and cons of her thought before expressing it out loud, “Do you think that avoiding happiness is going to keep you from being hurt?”

He scoffs, slipping the tie loose from his collar and pulling it from around his neck. In an uncharacteristic move, Arthur drops it onto the chair nearby instead of neatly setting it away. He sips on his drink while considering the question, eyes wandering like the answer might suddenly appear written on the walls. Moments pass during the quiet, but when he finally lifts his head to speak, his expression has softened.

“I don’t avoid happiness.” He talks as he sets his drink down and moves towards her, “I have plenty in my life to keep me happy,” he takes her drink from her hand, “I try, and evidently fail, to avoid attachment or sentiment.”

He takes her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing across her knuckles, then turning it over and gently placing a kiss to her palm. He then turns her hand again, leaning his cheek into it, meeting her curious gaze. 

“I see the weakness in those who invest too much in others. I’ve felt it in myself. Misplaced expectations and projections of fears and needs muddling things up.” He grips her other hand and holds it between their chests, tight but not too tight. It’s meant to keep her attention on him, not that she could focus on anything else when he’s that close and unguarded.

“With something to lose it’s nearly impossible to make the hard choices, and that is who I am. I’m the one called in for the less appealing jobs; someone with nothing to lose and no one to leave behind.”

“Arthur,” she whispers, heart aching and chest tight with hurt. But not by his words this time, by the truth in his tone. Hurt for him.

“It’s alright, love. It’s the role I play,” He lets their hands drop from his cheek, his grip loose in her hand, but she clutches it tighter. 

“Do you really believe you wouldn’t leave anything behind?” She asks, watching him, waiting for another flicker, some small flinch to indicate he would let himself have this.

He frowns at her, like an animal that can see so plainly the object of desire, and yet knows there’s a trap they can’t make out. He pulls his hand from hers and turns.

“Nothing but ghosts, and maybe a few women,” He huffs, trying to turn the heaviness of the question into a joke. 

That’s it, that’s the last rejection she can take. She turns for the door, even opens it, before he’s in front of her, stopping her, eyes full of terror for abandonment. 

“Don’t leave,” tries to order, but winces at the desperation in his voice. 

“Ask me to stay,” She whispers. “Or tell me that I mean nothing to you and let me leave. You really can’t be that desperate for a fuck, can you?” She stares at him dead-on, letting him hear it in her words, and read it in her body language that she isn’t bluffing. 

“I…” He clears his throat, straightens his shoulders, trying to gain control of the situation, while fidgeting with discomfort.  When he doesn’t say anything, she makes another move for the door behind him.

“Stay.” He watches her, as if unaware he’s said it. 

Vulnerable. A word she never thought she would use for him.

She doesn’t need him to say it again, she heard it loud and clear. It doesn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction as she stares back and eloquently asks, “What?”

“You know, I don’t often make requests unless I am certain I will get what I want,” he tries for the usual Ketch swagger, but it sounds more broken than anything.

“I couldn’t have been more clear that all you had to do was ask.”

“Then stay?”

They watch each other for a few seconds, making certain that neither would move. She lets go of the door, allowing it to slam shut behind her, then puts a hand at the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss her. He’s pliant, but steady as he goes along with her guidance. His one arm reaches around her waist while the other spreads wide at the back of her head, holding her mouth to his.

His feet move along as she shuffles them back toward the bed, but he stops them before they can tumble onto the sheets.

He pulls away, eyes steely blue and dark, and huffing breaths against her cheek. “It was never my intention to make you feel unappreciated.” His fingers move while he speaks, nimble fingers pulling down the zipper of her dress and letting it fall open and loose on her back.

She looks up at him, making certain he sees the genuine acceptance she offers, “I know.” She shrugs her shoulders, letting the straps fall and the fabric begin to fold down and around her, caught over his hands.

He slowly begins to lower himself down to the ground, onto his knees, hands gently skimming over her body, her dress following, before both rest at her hips, eyes never leaving hers. “I certainly never intended to make you feel unwanted.”

A trembling breath passes between her lips while she looks down at him. He stares back confidently yet penitent as he kneels in front of her, hands spreading over her as though eager to grab, but full of restraint and remaining tender.

“I fully intend to make it up to you,” his voice is soft and steady. His thumbs move to meet at the center of her stomach, just below her belly button. Then, with fingers spread wide, he slides them down, pulling the dress until it falls in a circle around her feet. He hums and looks her up and down appreciatively, “Many, many times over.”

Sometimes he can be vulnerable and affectionate, too.

She looks up and says a silent ‘thank you’ to no one in particular. Her hands rest at her sides, sometimes flinching when his touch almost tickles, but patiently waiting as he teases her. His lips skim along the skin above her underwear, and his hands roam across her lower back, ass, and the backs of her thighs. His breaths are warm and controlled, heating her skin as he moves close, but not exactly to where she is starting to grow wet. 

Her own breaths become shaky and uneven as she waits for what feels like an unfair amount of time, one hand clenched in a fist as she debates just shoving her fingers into her own underwear to get things moving along. With the other, she pushes through his hair. It’s longer than he’s kept it before, and she can feel where it’s twisting into curls at the ends. Her fingertips tickle along the back of his neck, just under his hairline, feeling the sweat already start to dampen his collar. 

She pulls her hand back to drag her nails through, drawing a low growl from him that she feels more than she hears. He tilts his head with the movement her hand as it strokes through his hair and he stares up at her again, pink splotches marking his cheekbones and giving away his excitement.

“You can really get started with that anytime now,” she tries to joke, but it’s edged with desperation.

“As you wish,” he says with a playful glint in his eye.

She gasps, “You -” but doesn’t finish because of course he takes that moment to start to press his thumb in circles of pressure over her, making her nerves tingle, setting off a rush of pleasure. “Ohh. More,” she whispers.

He cheekily replies again, “As you wish.”

Vulnerable, affectionate, playful.

There is no stopping her smile now, “You bastard,” she accuses, but the insult falls as flat as she does as he pushes her down to the bed. She lands with a surprised laugh which turns airy as he pulls her underwear down from her waist.

He starts to kiss at her calf, moving his way up her legs with his mouth and hands constantly wandering, massaging, tickling. “I am a bastard, but I still know the classics. I am certainly more like Westley than you give me credit for.”

“Tell me how perfect my breasts are then,” she mumbles.

He chuckles and stops at the tops of her thighs, muttering something that sounds like an affirmation before he uses just his fingertips to graze along her sensitive skin. He watches for a few seconds as he spreads her wetness back and forth. She feels the heat of his breath as he moves in, and gently presses his lips and the tip of his tongue against her. When he places his mouth on her, she immediately bucks up into him, greedy for pressure and movement. 

With a blink, he turns his look upward, leering at her. His lips spread slightly as he applies more pressure, allowing two of his fingers to tease at her entrance, all while he watches for her reactions.

She remains still, playing along with his little game for a moment, but when he slides away, just shy of where she wants his fingers, she loses all patience.

“What happened to making it up to me?” She pushes herself up to rest on her elbows.

He shifts himself onto the bed until he is face to face with her again, looking her over as though trying to memorize her. 

“Well, you are going to stay, aren’t you?” He stares into her eyes as he waits for her answer.

“Yes,” she tells him, unwavering.

“Well then,” he slides back down her body, stopping to kiss across her collarbone and down one breast, and then the other. The soft kisses tickle more than they linger, but lead in a direct path back between her legs, where he settles on his knees on the floor. “I’ve got time, haven’t I?”

Thorough. That’s another word for him.  

[nekoabiwrites]

Oh my god, they were roommates...

IT’S @not-so-innocent-bi-sander‘s BIRTHDAY! At least in my time zone~ And I tried my best to make a fic that covers all that Jordan loves :D

AU: Human/College AU Pairing: Prinxiety Words: 3408 Warnings: Panic attack, nudity. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Virgil didn’t think he’d ever see him again and yet, here he was... and he was hot!

--

“Across the hall from your room is our final roommate, Virgil Evans. He pr-”

“Virgil Evans?!”

The loud exclamation of his name had something clicking in the young adult’s mind. The voice was eerily familiar, though Virgil would have sworn up and down that it was just a hallucination and that no one was even out on the landing. The now muffled voices and the thumping of heavy things hitting the ground told him that someone was definitely out there, or at least was before they moved into the empty room opposite his own. There was no way it could be… could it? He went to shake the thought from his head and get back to work, but a sudden excited knocking at his door interrupted him. With a slight shake of his hand, Virgil walked up to the door and grasped the handle to see who was on the opposite side.

Everything stood still immediately once the door was opened. Virgil was, metaphorically, flung back in time by the mere sight of the man before him.

They had both been akin to outcasts in middle school; one a fledgling emo who was too scary and quiet, the other a small pudgy child who was too loud and excitable. Somehow, they were complete opposites yet fit so well together, almost like puzzle pieces. They liked to play make-believe, watch Disney movies, draw and paint. Though, on a deeper level, there was far more in common.

Virgil had been in denial in middle school. He realised that he found his friend absolutely adorable and really cute, and he realised one day during a pretend scene of true love’s kiss saving the day that he actually did like kissing his friend. But Virgil couldn’t say that, it could ruin his best friendship and – most definitely – the rest of his entire life. So, it stayed hidden and Virgil pretended like all of his emotions weren’t there. Up until the day he left.

One day, Virgil was waiting in the usual spot when his friend approached him, looking sad. He told Virgil that his family were moving away, and he was going to have to change schools. It felt as though Virgil’s entire world was crashing around him. A week passed and he was gone. Virgil was back to being alone. He thought he’d never see his friend again. Apparently, he was dead wrong.

“I can’t believe it! It’s actually you! I’d recognise your emo ass anywhere, though I didn’t expect you to get better at it!” His old friend laughed heartily, giving Virgil a once over.

Virgil rolled his eyes and leant against the doorframe, arms crossed, “Didn’t expect you to become a meathead like your brothers, but I guess we were both wrong, Roman Prince.” Virgil put extra emphasis on his last name, which caused a grin spread across his face as the man before him almost inflated with indignation.

“How dare you!” Roman pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, “I will have you know I surpassed them greatly with my grades, thank you very much!”

“Like that was hard.”

“Are you undermining my achievements?!”

“A little.”

They continued to argue back and forth for a few more minutes before a quiet voice interrupted them and both of their heads turned to the new participant in the conversation. “Um, are you two fighting? Please don’t fight, at least not on the first day…”

Virgil ducked his head in embarrassment, “Sorry, Pat… Didn’t mean to freak you out…”

“Yes, many apologies. We weren’t arguing. Just old friends teasing each other as you do!”

Patton’s eyes lit up, “Wait! Are you the friend from middle school that V-”

Immediately, the emo was out of the doorway and in front of Patton, his hand clamped over his mouth. “Patton, shut up!” Virgil hissed, his face already beginning to burn in embarrassment.

A chuckle had Virgil’s stomach churning, “So, Virgil has mentioned me, hm? I guess I am unforgettable.”

“Whatever. I’ll be in my room.” Virgil muttered, slinking back into the dark bedroom. He shut the door in Roman’s face, who tried to get one last comment in. He listened carefully to the sounds in the hallway; the short conversation between Roman and Patton, the footsteps descending the stairs as the door across the hall shut and vague noises of Roman unpacking started. Only then did Virgil allow himself to whisper scream as he collapsed onto his sheets. He asked a question in his mind, ‘How the fuck did he get hot?!’

--

Virgil hoped that, over time and with exposure, his sudden surge of attraction to his old friend would dissipate. Perhaps Roman would have weird habits that would turn Virgil off or maybe his personality – having changed over the years – would grind on Virgil’s last nerve until every ounce of attraction fizzled away. Of course, things were not that simple.

Roman was just as energetic and friendly as he had been years prior, easily making friends with not only the other roommates living with them but also many other students, and even the grumpy old lady who lived in the house next door who always complained about the weird phantom noises they were apparently making at 3am when they were all asleep (or at least, lying in bed). He always had time for Virgil though.

By the end of the first week he’d been living in the house, Roman had somehow gained an all-access pass to Virgil’s room at most reasonable times of the day. To the point that the two would just sit and do work before eventually falling into long discussions – or arguments – about nothing in particular. Some days, they’d simply fill each other in on their lives since they parted ways. Roman was extremely invested in Virgil’s life and what became of the other kids from their school, and Virgil could say the same about Roman.

It was during one of these conversations that Roman asked a particularly interesting question. He was laying on his front, head held up by his hands. There was an open notebook to the side of him, though it was all but forgotten at this point.

“I haven’t heard you mention anything about the topic but I’m very interested, so I’ll ask anyway. How many of the girls did you have throwing themselves at you when you got older? I bet that dark and mysterious vibe got them all, didn’t it?” Roman wiggled his eyebrows playfully, grinning slyly as Virgil choked on the drink in his hand.

The emo put the cup down and smacked his chest a couple of times before rasping out a short “What?! No. The fuck?!”

“Oh… Sorry, I just thought with your good looks and the whole… aesthetic you have going on, you’d have the pick of them all.” Roman said sincerely. Virgil’s cheeks darkened at the compliment and Roman’s eyes quickly lit up. He swung around, throwing his legs off the side so he could assess Virgil closer, “Virgil… I don’t mean to pry, and you don’t have to answer me but… were there any… guys?”

The immediate spinning of Virgil’s desk chair told Roman everything. The sly grin creeped back up onto his face as he stood, approaching the chair that now faced away from him. Roman faked a gasp before resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair, “Did I get it right?”

Virgil huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. In a single swift movement, he grabbed the rainbow stress toy from his desk (a gift from Patton) and threw it over his shoulder, attempting to hit Roman’s shoulder with it. However, the tug on the back of the chair and the undignified high-pitched yelp followed by stumbling steps had Virgil thinking he’d missed his mark. It didn’t stop him from laughing after he turned in his chair and found Roman pouting at him indignantly.

“Oh, yes. Laugh it up. It’s just so funny that you tried to assault me!” Roman tossed his head with a sniff, a haughty look upon his face.

Virgil managed to control himself a little in order to respond, “You look like such a jock, but you are way too gay for that. And I hope that this answered your dumb question, Princey.” He picked the stress toy off the ground and held it up for Roman to truly get a look at before putting it back on his desk.

Roman perked back up once he saw the toy properly, “Well, thank goodness for that! I don’t think I could have lived knowing someone as pretty as you was straight.” He situated himself back on Virgil’s bed and went back to looking over his notes, while Virgil stewed over what he’d just heard.

The weeks passed and nothing was getting better for Virgil. It had gotten to the point where he couldn’t just bottle it up within himself anymore, he just had to talk to someone. That’s how he found himself laying on his back on Logan’s bed, staring up at the precise constellations that dotted his ceiling.

“If you truly want my opinion, Virgil, it seems there is enough evidence to show that your affecti-”

“Ahhh, don’t call it that!” Virgil threw an arm over his eyes, as if that would help him get away from the truth of his smart friend’s words, “Is there anything else you can say instead?”

“Virgil.”

Logan placed his tablet pen back into its holder, twisted the lid of his laptop back to its regular position and turned to face his bed. His left leg crossed over his right and his arms tightly crossed over his chest, looking at Virgil with his stern steely gaze. The emo lying there almost squirmed away, as he could feel the piercing gaze even without seeing it.

“Ughhhh, I knew you’d be no help!” Virgil slid himself off of the sheets and onto his feet, heading towards the door, “I’m gonna go see if Patton’s in. Maybe he’ll help me more!”

Logan said nothing, simply shrugging – which Virgil caught sight of in the mirror next to the door – before turning back to his work, “If you think he’ll help, then go ahead. Unlike you, I am actually trying to complete my studies, so you’ll know where I will be.”

A light twitch of a smile came to Virgil’s lip as he muttered a thanks under his breath before fake-storming out of Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled his phone from his pocket and went to text Patton. His attention was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice the sound of a new door opening near to him. It was only when he collided with something warm and solid that Virgil realised someone else was in the hallway with him. He quickly lifted his head to apologise, but found his words catching in his throat at the sight.

Roman stood just in front of him, still damp from his shower that he’d clearly just finished. His hair was slicked back with the water, though a few strands had fallen across his forehead from the slight jolt of someone walking into him. Virgil’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the trail of a droplet that had already run its course down Roman’s torso, drinking in every detail of his clearly well-looked after body. He was just muscular enough to have definition, as well as being incredibly broad chested – which really made Virgil realise how much taller Roman had grown as Virgil had clearly made contact with his pecs when they’d bumped into each other. His eyes travelled even further before Virgil could even consider tearing his eyes away from the sight before him. Roman’s body was almost that unbelievable triangle shape that he’d only seen on magazine covers, advertisements and movies. It even had that V-shape that guided Virgil’s gaze to the towel that was hanging low on Roman’s waist, being held up by only one of Roman’s hands.

All of a sudden, Virgil came back to himself. Thankfully, it had only been a few seconds since the impact, and both had been a little startled. Virgil, however, took several steps away, blushing a deep red. He stuttered, attempting to find something to say as he backed up to Logan’s door again. As he fumbled behind him for the door handle, Roman approached slowly, looking concerned. Virgil hadn’t even noticed he’d started to panic.

“Virgil. It’s okay. We’re both okay. Try to breathe…” Roman spoke calmly, holding his hands before him. However, he’d seemingly forgotten that his hand was the one thing keeping the towel from falling to the ground. As he went to reassure Virgil with both hands, Roman could feel the fabric fall from around his waist.

Virgil outright screeched pterodactyl-style and dove into Logan’s room, his face burning. He didn’t see Roman also turn a fantastical shade of red as he saved at least some of his modesty as the door had been slammed shut just as quick. The larger of the two listened at the door for a few seconds. He waited until he heard Logan speaking to Virgil, coaching him through breathing techniques to quell his panic, before heading back to his room to get dressed.

In Logan’s room, Virgil was slowly uncurling from the tight ball he’d managed to get into in his panic as his breathing was starting to return to a somewhat normal level. His eyes were swimming and his head was pounding, but he was able to make out the shape of Logan kneeling beside him.

“Are you feeling better, Virgil? Would you like me to fetch you some water?” Logan asked, analysing Virgil’s body language.

“That… um, please… yes.” Virgil wheezed, stretching out on the ground. He carefully stretched each muscle from the tips of his fingers to his toes as Logan cautiously stepped around him and out of his room. Virgil allowed the sense of embarrassment to wash over him again and his face continued to burn, though his panic was manageable. He could not believe that he’d almost lost it over Roman, of all people. He went to audibly groan whilst slapping his hands across his face, but the sound of Roman’s voice had him stopping mid-movement to listen to every single syllable.

He heard Roman address Logan, clearly both in the hallway nearer the kitchen.

“How is everything?” Roman asked, concerned.

“He is doing relatively well, compared to the state he came to me in, if that’s what you are asking.” Logan’s voice was getting closer. Virgil sat himself up, so he wasn’t caught by Roman lying on the ground.

“That’s good. Um, could you tell him that I’m sorry for whatever happened. I don’t know if it was my fault or what, but I just want to cover my bases, just in case.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know. I think it’s best if you don’t come too close. Seeing you again may cause a slight relapse.” Logan stated as his voice came right up to the door. Virgil was now sat with his back pressed against the bed, trying his hardest to look natural.

“O-oh. Right. Of course. Um, well… I hope everything is okay…” Roman sounded disappointed, but a set of footsteps started to retreat away from the room and up the stairs.

Logan then opened the door and entered, his face as stoic as ever. He handed the glass of water to Virgil before sitting himself back into his desk chair and continuing to work. Eventually, there was a rustle of bedsheets that told Logan that Virgil had gotten off of the floor and sat himself back on Logan’s bed. Virgil was muttering something under his breath.

The chair spun back around before stopping on a dime as Logan sighed, “Virgil, if you are going to say something, please let me hear it. I would like to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Virgil gave his friend a withering look that had no malice behind it as this was just the way they worked, “I said ‘I’m going to fucking die’” Virgil made air-quotes around his words.

Logan smiled wryly, “If you’re going to do that here, could you at least make it quiet? I do have a project to finish.” He waited to see Virgil smirk and stick his tongue out playfully before turning back to his laptop, giving Virgil some space to think.

It was after dinner when Virgil started to make his ascent back up to his room finally. There had been a long conversation with Logan once the emo had his thoughts in a semi-coherent order which had ultimately ended with the conclusion that both sides had a mutual interest and that Virgil should really just go for whatever he wanted. It was just as that final point was made that Patton knocked on Logan’s door in order to call him out for food.

“Oh! Virgil! I was about to call you and Roman down, but since you’re here, come on out!” Patton cheerfully said, grinning from ear to ear. The peppy student practically skipped away to call out to Roman, leaving Logan’s door wide open. Both of the other students emerged, slipping into the kitchen quietly. As food was being served up and they were all eating, Virgil avoided eye contact with Roman, even as his roommate was trying his hardest to catch Virgil’s eye. He was working out the script in his head, as Virgil knew he would never do it if not today.

It was only once he was halfway up the stairs and Roman called his name that Virgil even contemplated looking at his roommate again. When he did, his face flushed pink once again at the memory of what he’d seen. Virgil pushed that all away however, as Roman took the stairs two at a time to catch up to him.

“Are you alright? I wanted to check on you after what happened earlier, but Logan said I probably shouldn’t. Just in case. But I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Roman rattled off as they both headed up to their rooms.

Virgil stopped outside his room, leaning against the closed door. “Yeah, I’m good. Just was a little… surprised, I guess?” He mumbled, looking at a very interesting piece of the carpeted floor.

“Good. Good. I didn’t want to uh… traumatise you or something.” Roman laughed nervously, which got Virgil’s attention. He’d never heard Roman nervous before.

Slowly, Virgil raised his gaze, “Well, um, thanks? I guess? Logan helped me. We talked about a lot…” he trailed off, unsure of himself.

“What did you talk about?”

“Just… what happened and things.”

“Things?”

Virgil was shifting his weight from foot to foot, his nervousness getting the better of him. He was trying to remember the script he came up with in his head, but nothing was coming to him. This wasn’t how this was all supposed to go. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. The emo growled under his breath before practically shouting, “I fucking like you, okay?!” Immediately, Virgil clapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes widened in shock at his own outburst.

The silence rang out between the two students. Virgil was unwilling to move and Roman was almost moving in slow motion. He tentatively reached out, loosely grasping Virgil’s wrist in order to pry his hand away from his mouth. It only took a step to close the distance between them, “I like you too, Virgil. Took you long enough to notice.”

Virgil was shocked this was working out the way it was. He was barely aware of what happened before Roman’s lips were brushing against his own, silently asking a question that required an answer. Instead of words, Virgil simply threw himself onto Roman, crushing their mouths together.

Immediately, his back was pushed up against his closed door once more as Roman took charge of the situation. The larger let go of Virgil’s waist in order to grab the door handle and push it open, leading Virgil inside. As the emo let his bedroom door swing shut, he watched Roman tug his shirt over his head and tossed it aside before taking one large step to close the distance between them once again. The lock on the door hit home immediately.

--

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